Going Along with the Script

I live in the desert with palm trees and cacti, where seeing snow is a rare event.
Having grown up in a snowy winter climate, I've got it in my head there ought to be several inches of white fluffy snow on the ground.  

When our kids were little, we used to make a day of getting our Christmas tree and we'd bundle up  and grab a hack saw before heading to the nearest tree farm to trudge through the snow looking for the perfect tree.  

It was always cold and always exciting.  

 

There! That's the one!  

Once the tree was lying on the snowy ground, we'd drag it to the cute little red house to have it wrapped up and tied to the faux wood paneled, rusty station wagon. 
Upon paying for the tree, they gave us candy canes and hot cocoa to warm us up.  

Behind us a mother warned her unruly child he wouldn't get anything from Santa if he didn't behave.  The elves were watching of course.
It was all magical.

 We did all this so we could witness the sparkling eyes of our boys Christmas morning. 

 This year, I decided to get a real tree.  

Truth is, the decade old fake tree was having light issues.  The dust on it made me sneeze. 

 It was a sudden inspiration to get a fresh tree.  

Freshly cut and shipped from Colorado.
  

I didn't get to trudge through the snow to find this perfect tree.  I walked through a local parking lot designated to selling seasonal items.  Most recently it was pumpkins. 

There!  I saw the tree.

The perfect Norway Pine.
It wasn't covered in snow nor was it cold outside.  Mid 60s for the afternoon temps and add a Snarky College Kid working the tree lot and you have true holiday merriment.  He eyed the tree and made up a number for the price and added a lovely tree stand with a "life-time warranty" all for the
bargain price of $100.  

No candy canes or hot cocoa.
  

A mother  behind me was talking excitedly about Santa and asked her daughter what she wanted for Christmas.  Snarky College Kid told her he had inside connections with Santa which may have amused the mother, but went right on past the little kid.

   

With the freshly cut tree on Youngest Son's car we went back home to set up the tree.

 I now I realize why I switched to the fake trees ten years ago.

A bit of a challenge it is, setting up the real tree.
It doesn't have pre-strung lights.
It drops it's needles.
It oozes sap.
And it requires water. 
Lots of water.
And Snarky College Kid didn't drill a hole deep enough into the trunk for the $20 "lifetime warrantied" tree stand to fit into, therefore it didn't sit in the several bottles of water I had poured into the container..

  

It didn't take Youngest Son and I long to decorate the tree
with the keepsake ornaments I've collected over the years.

A little Christmas music to create the mood and voila. 

 

Our Fresh Colorado Spruce tree is up.

and

I've set up my Victorian Village.  

 The exterior is lit up with pretty red lights and a wire snowman from China.

Still, I don't have the Christmas Spirit.

It's been a challenging year and this challenging year is coming to an end.
I'm hopeful for a better 2014.

For now, I am simply going along with the script.

Merry Christmas
with love,
Me

What If...

What if the only things you had today were the things you were grateful for yesterday?  I wasn’t outwardly grateful, yesterday.  I don’t think I even expressed thank you more than a couple times—once for my menu and maybe again for the bill when it came and for someone holding the door for me.  I don’t know, maybe I said it a few more times, 

but that isn’t gratitude in the real sense. 

  

Gratitude is something to be thoughtful about; pensive perhaps.  If I was only thankful for a menu and a dinner bill, I’d be dead this morning.  I should be thankful for breathing.  I’d be sitting here holding my breath until I turned blue and eventually pass out.  
 How many things do we take for granted every single minute of every single day?  I didn’t express gratitude for my home, my car, the gas in my car, or my closet bursting with clothes.  In the morning I would be sitting here all warm and.... no I wouldn’t be sitting here actually.. I’d be on the curb wearing rags. 
I didn’t express gratitude for my home.  I didn’t express gratitude in being able to draw or play my cello.  I wouldn’t have my cello this morning or my art.  I didn’t express gratitude for my pups—no wagging tails or happy licks for me this morning.   I didn’t express gratitude for the food in my refrigerator or the heritage turkey waiting to be roasted.  No, I’d be hungry this morning and all day today.  

The list is endless in what I should be grateful for… highest on my list would be breathing of course, but my wonderful family and dear friends come at the top of the list.  I can’t imagine waking up this morning without a single one of them.  They, are what I am thankful for.  I hope this means that tomorrow all these things will be here for me… 

💗

Happy Thanksgiving 2013

What is Your Heaven?

What is your Heaven? 

My hair stylist and I had this discussion, not too long ago.  I was intrigued with the thought and so,
I played along.
If you could design your own heaven, what would it look like? 

My heaven?   

Sunshine and rain showers.  

A majestic shady oak tree and a thick patch of grass with a softly worn quilt on which I'd curl up with a book so good, I wouldn't ever want the story to end.  

Wide open spaces with flower-filled meadows and the singing of red winged blackbirds

At the touch of a button, I could change the scene to

a white sand beach with ocean waves 

creeping up to where I sit, washing my footprints away.

Seagulls squawking, "mine! mine!"... no, let's scratch that one.

A lap-full of grandchildren and puppies that never grow up.

And they never leave messes only kisses.

Okay, the kids can leave messes, but no puppy messes.

I would be able to speak fluent French.
Why French?

Well, it would be important to be able to speak French in my little French Café,

where I would serve (and enjoy)
Crême Patissêrie

and
endless cappuccinos
without getting fat or jittery.
Along with a little French accordion music playing in the background.

And a

an hour glass that never runs out....

 

What is your heaven?

Murmuration

Something special.

Murmuration from Islands & Rivers on Vimeo.