Stick Horse Cowgirls

  When we think of holidays, we think of bustle, I know.  In my own life this is largely because I just haven’t gotten things done ahead of time, like I always plan.  But Christmas holiday preparations have their quiet serenity, too.  This morning is one of those times. The bustle this week was at my work.  This morning, as I wrap gifts, son is snoozing on the couch, after having coffee and conversation with his Mom.  The hard rain I awoke to has softened to a drizzle with occasional patter, and inside my home is warm, snug and comfy, although it is not cold enough here for a fire in the fireplace.  I am, I know, drinking too much coffee this morning, but it is so good as I linger in pajamas and as I Scotch tape beautiful paper around these gifts. As I wrapped, I realized that for years my gift list grew and grew with each year.  My sister and my youngest sister-in-law were prolific in their progeny (each with 4!) as compared to the other sib...

I awoke with a start this morning before 4 a.m.  It is not unusual for me to be awake at this hour, but to be so fully awake and with such purpose right off  is not my norm.  What has got me going is the holiday bustle.  Belatedly. I’ve mentioned earlier that MIL came up with the bright idea of going out to eat.  It seemed, at first, an affront to long-standing family tradition, but as I thought it through, I came over to the other side.  We’ve found a lavish Thanksgiving buffet to attend and have duly made our reservations.  My family will gather at the restaurant this year, and each one of them seems excited by the change. Because I am not cooking for the meal, I have not purchased one, single extra item from the store.  Son is away at the beach for a week, so it’s only me here.  My mother is coming tonight.  So I knew I had to get a few things in for while she is here. And then it happened: the slide back toward busyness. ...

I am not especially "crafty." I love arts and crafts (don't all children?), but to call me "artistic" or "talented" craftwise is a stretch. Still, our creative juices seek outlets, don't they? Whether they are very high-grade creativities or not. And I find that it is the crafty activities that lend themselves to capturing personal family memories. When my son was small I developed the habit of keeping up with significant events through the year. I have used a calendar for this or a list in my Bible where I would see it frequently and add to it as things occurred. Along toward Christmas, I would take myself to the craft store, buy the largest plain ornament I could find, and white, green and red paint pens. At the top of the ornament, I printed my son's name and the year. Then all over the ornament I would print the "happenings" of the year. These are not the most beautiful ornaments we have. But every year when we decorate ...

My son (my conscience) has me working out at the "Y" five days a week. Those of you who know me personally know what an accomplishment this is, as I hate physical exercise! I must admit, however, that it is making me feel better and better both physically and from that emotional lift of accomplishment. With the exercise has come a decreased appetite for junk food and overeating ("they" told me this would happen, although for me it is counterintuitive), and that has felt good too. Why, oh why, then did I stuff myself crazily yesterday? Can't I enjoy Thanksgiving with family, be thankful and not overeat? Apparently not. After eating turkey, ham and all the trimmings plus two kinds of pie yesterday, my son and I climbed into the car bloated and sluggish as we have not been in months and slunk off from my brother's house. By the time I left the feast scene (leaving every scrap of what I had brought, knowing how dangerous leftovers are), I felt like I was flee...