Christmas, By God!

There - I've offended millions in one swell-foop.

It's Christmas season. Hanukkah is past and now we're into Christmas - not "The Holidays" or "The Holiday Season" or any of that other nonsense.

If some group wants to establish some new winter festival, like Christmas or like Hanukkah which commemorates an historical event, go for it - but do not demand that I or others who ascribe to the joy of Christmas stop expressing ourselves. That ain't gonna happen. So, in keeping with that bold and clear statement:

Merry Christmas!

In our household, we won't be doing Christmas cards. Buying ten cards for $10 and then paying $0.50 each to mail them ($5) on top of the time and energy spent writing that once-a-year note to people I otherwise don't communicate with makes no sense to me.

We won't be exchanging presents. Spending time and energy running from store to store to store looking for something that will probably end up in the back of the recipient's closet makes no sense to me.

Winding up in January looking into the figurative wallet and thinking, "Geez! Did we really spend that much?" makes no sense to me.

We won't be driving ourselves crazy with setting up the tree, stringing wires and decorating it. Getting out all the other knickknacks and decorations to spread through the house - living room and dining room and family room - all so we can take it all down and put it away again in two weeks.

Ours is a quiet period of normal living. And I like it this way.

When daughter was still at home and before MIL's illness back in 2012 we did the seasonal craziness - the tree went up the day after Thanksgiving. We would spending a day diving into the attic, pulling out the boxes of decorations and setting everything out. We would check the lights and argue about how best to wire the tree. Then, when it was all over and up, I would dive back into the attic to put the storage boxes away, all so the process could be reversed the day after New Years. We also did the cards and the shopping and the stressing out.

Since then, since MIL moved downstairs into our living room, taking up the space formerly reserved for the Christmas tree, we haven't done it. And, quite frankly, I have not missed it. I don't miss the decorating, the card writing (which took hours even though I only sent about ten or fifteen cards each year), or the running hither and yon to find that "perfect" whatever.

Aside from that, I live with two people who aren't sure about anything "religious" and for them to get all excited about Christmas was nothing but seasonal induced greed - what will I get / what can I have. And that's not what this season should be about. That's what it's become, but that's not what it should be about.

MIL refuses to acknowledge God or any higher power. So be it, that's her outlook. However, she is fretting because she cannot write or send Christmas cards this year. As if anyone is going to really miss that extra piece of paper in the mail. Yes, it's a nice sentiment, but this goes straight back to my 1:1 relationship. These are people with whom she doesn't communicate except at Christmas - and the sentiments in the cards sent and received are predominately "this is me in my world" instead of an on-going interested exchange of news and views.

Hubby doesn't seem to know what he thinks or believes. He talks about people "up there" influencing and affecting our lives, but refuses to acknowledge God or any other higher power. Whatever.

Then there's me. I am a believer in God. My relationship with Him is personal - 1:1. I talk to him. I know that He's there in all things and all moments so I try to always do the right thing for myself and for others. Do I believe that He is jotting down every little thing I do or ask for? No. There's an entire universe out there and I'm less than a dust mote in it. I send good thoughts, energy, to those who need it. Does it influence the outcome? Probably not, but if it makes me feel better or makes the people who ask for thoughts and prayers feel better, it's a small thing to do, so I do it.

With 2015 coming to a close, and 2016 looming large with all of its new offerings, it's an exciting time.

Next year I will be a Grandma for the first time.

Next year I will have new responsibilities at work (that came up yesterday and will start Monday, but won't really start rolling until after New Years).

Next year our new plant will open and, hopefully, start operating. That might lead to new things, too. We'll see.

In the meantime it's life continuing.

I went out and bought another pair of new shoes because the first pair is so comfortable. $19.99 per pair plus sales tax. Less than $45 for two pair of shoes that will probably last two years - and I got an argument and lecture when I got home.

I signed up for health insurance through my work. It's a funded plan in which a set dollar amount is deposited into a bank account in my name every pay period. The intent is that the money will accumulate and be there when and if I need it. I got an argument about that, too. But I'm standing firm - that is not going to be touched for anything but my medical expenses, as designated. (Hubby has a different idea but tough. He'll have to get over it.)

I forgot to return five cans of cat food this morning and got scolded for it. As if I can't take them and exchange them another time.

Life as usual in our household in other words. So, instead of the Christmas tree and cards and all the rest of it, I have two pair of shoes that I need. I have the beginnings of a health insurance nest egg I can use. I have five extra cans of cat food that will, at some point, go back to the store. It's all good and it's my little corner of this world on the Saturday before Christmas. Hubby's frustration and vitriol slid off my back like water off a duck because it's so common, so expected and normal, so that's all good too.

Have fun shopping! Watch out for those crowds and don't get carried away with the spending. Me? I'm going to kick back and relax.

Best~
Philippa

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'tis The Season - Grumbling & Philosophy

Oh, yippitee skippitee, Scrooge is here.

The company holiday party (nope, not allowed to call it Christmas since someone might be offended) is coming up this Friday. I've had offers of hand-holding from a number of people so even though I don't really want to, I'm going. I'll sit with my hand-holding buds and shoot the breeze and will probably end up having a good time. There's going to be line dancing and, knowing me, I'll probably jump into that.

Heck - that'll be a trip down Memory Lane.

When I was about four my mom enrolled me in ballet classes not knowing that I'm a follow my own drummer personality. Or maybe she did and didn't care? I don't know. All I know is that at four years old any stage career I might have developed disappeared in the middle of a dance recital.

Black leotard with a short red tutu, a black overskirt with red polkadots. I remember that. I also remember being the one kid in the line of however many there were reaching to the ceiling while everyone else was bending to the floor and vice versa. It didn't go well. But I did get a bouquet of red roses from my favorite Aunt when it was all over.

This should be more fun though since I doubt anyone else, except maybe one or two hardcore country western listeners, will have a clue what they're doing either. In the end, it'll be fun and funny and a laugh and that's what it's all about.

With my buds and music I can pretend I'm sitting in a bar someplace. Although the room will no doubt be more brightly lit than the local bar.

Since I was in charge of the music I dove deep into my past and requested 'Twisting By The Pool' and 'The Sultans of Swing', both from Dire Straits.

Hopefully when it's all over everyone will look at everyone else and say, 'that was fun! Let's do it again next year!'

At home, we won't be celebrating the season because there's both too much and not enough going on.

MIL is becoming incontinent. Twice in the past few days hubby has been down on the floor scrubbing stains. I just hope, callously perhaps, for all of us that this phase doesn't last too long.

I spent an hour of my evening last night Googling about incontinence and its various forms. Imagine spending an evening Googling about excrement. Not pleasant. Not how I wanted to spend my evening, but what I did because we're looking for solutions. Is it dietary? Probably not, although it could be. We'll remove what we think is problematic - sodas, milk and dairy - and see what happens. Is it related to her diabetes? Probably. Nerves don't work so she doesn't necessarily know when it's time. It's also simply a part of aging. And this is where it gets into things I really didn't know about, and won't share because, who knows, maybe you'd like to spend a couple of hours Googling about incontinence in the elderly and its causes.

Unfortunately, there don't seem to be any solutions. This is end-stage and it's only a question of how much longer. Weeks, perhaps months but no longer based on what I read. This isn't something that goes for years, so there is a bright spot - caused by bleach on the carpet in the living room.

Maybe I shouldn't say this here, but I am determined, after seeing how my parents went out and seeing how MIL is going out, not to do it as she's doing it.

Dad died of cancer at home, surrounded by family. It was hard to watch but it was over in a matter of months. No dragging it out.

Mom, sadly, died of a long-term infection, but she retained her dignity up to the last several months when the pain for her and the burden of caring for the infection got to be too much for my SIL and brother. Up until the end she had her marbles. She could speak and decide for herself, and she decided when the time had come to move into assisted living. She did, and a few months later was gone, but there was none of the stress of caretaking a senile person who has trouble formulating sentences and thoughts, who struggles to get to the bathroom on time and who has trouble swallowing and throwing up half of what she eats on a regular basis.

If I reach that stage, I'm outta here. I will not burden my family with this kind of thing. I will not spend months or a year or more living like half-a-vegetable which is where we are with MIL. There are ways and I'll find one.

I think that's a major difference too. She fears death and I don't. I don't want to die, don't get me wrong, but thinking about it doesn't scare me. It's inevitable and is as much a part of living as being born.

I also wonder what's next because I don't believe it's a one-and-done. If it is, I won't know it anyway so I won't have a chance to be disappointed. If it's not, the next phase is something to look forward to. I think. Unless it's like Dante's Inferno and this is Level Three and I'm heading for Level Four or something. But, again, if it is, if I am, there's nothing I can do about it.

So the Holidays will come and go and January 1st will start our next calendar trip around the Sun. Things will change and others won't and it will be interesting to see what happens.

In the meantime, I hope you have a wonderful day and month and year and... Whatever the future brings your way.

Best~
Philippa

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Fall Is Here - At Last!

Golly gee whiz - we've had RAIN here the past couple of days. It's been so sporadic for so long (years) I had become cynical. Every time I heard some weather person say 'we're going to get rain' I would shrug, look away and mutter, 'yeah, and pigs will fly among a squadron of lead balloons soaring across interstellar space' or words to that effect. But we did and we have and it is SOOO nice!

On top of that, it's cold outside (for these parts, anyway). Frost on the roofs and a decided nip in the air again this morning. That, too, is wonderful. An exclamation mark on my very favorite time of the year, weather-wise. The time of year for sweaters and gloves and scarves, for looking forward to settling in someplace warm after being chilled.

The trees are glowing gold and yellow (we don't get a lot of red or scarlet around here, some, but not swathes of it like back East in New England). Leaves are carpeting the sidewalks. And roads. And the leaves on the road aren't so good because they're slippery (traction), but they'll go away soon.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying the cool weather, fall-blue skies (which are a different color entirely from any other time of year), and the bite in the air when I step outside. Just walking down the street is a pure pleasure. The chill in the shade offset by the warmth when you step into the sun - it's a marvelous dichotomy.

This morning I woke up before my alarm - a nice thing to do since it gives me a chance to just lie there and think, 'ahhh, I'm comfy' before Reality jabs me in the ribs with its sharp elbow. Because the window was open the room was cold, but the extra blankets made up the difference. It was lovely to be snuggled down under the covers and begin to plan my day.

We, I and several colleagues, are in the throes of planning our company's holiday party.

I should know better by now. I'm certainly old enough to know better by now. Never volunteer for anything. But I did and now, for better or worse, I'm on the committee.

Which is fine. I do enjoy doing stuff like this. It's organizational in nature, so it's right up my street and I know it's going to help make the party a success if it's planned and laid out for everyone. It's just that I'm on the fence about going to it myself.

I am NOT a social butterfly. Mingling in large groups is, for me, less pleasurable than a root canal performed by a quack without benefit of lidocaine or novocaine or any painkillers whatsoever.

Inevitably, I feel so awkward and out of place that I end up standing by the wall or in an inconspicuous corner wondering 'what the hell am I doing here?' Followed immediately by a glance at the wristwatch and internal query, 'I wonder if anyone will notice if I leave? Damn! I've only been here two minutes.'

If I do try to mingle (it's called 'force of will'), I'll sidle up to a group and stand there, feeling as if they're itching to close ranks and block me out, except they know it would be rude. Then, if I do interject something into the conversation, I inevitably feel as if I'm:

a) intruding
b) irritating everyone who was already there
c) making an observation that was already made thirty seconds before I joined and, thereby, looking stupid, or
d) all of the above.

Pretty much about as welcome as a turkey vulture at a picnic.

Can you tell I don't like parties and socializing? Small groups, intimate groups of people I know well and with whom I'm comfortable conversing, are fine - but since hubby is even more insular than I am, it's rare to find myself in an intimate setting among people with whom I feel completely at ease.

Now, with all of that said, one of the first things I want to do in my next stage of life is to have a celebration for my changed state. A manner of 'coming out party' where I can shed the vestiges of what has been and step out among a select group of close acquaintance and friends into a new place in my life.

Today, however, I shall look forward to taking a lovely drive along country roads on a beautiful autumn day through stands of trees changing their colors. That's the upside, the happy take-away from this situation. That and a free lunch since we're going to be sampling our options for dinner. Which I hope will be buffet style. There's no good way to serve a plated dinner for that many since the first people served will have cold meals by the time the last table is served, or the first table served will be sitting on their hands, looking around for dessert by the time the last plate is served.

Yeah. I'm sure it'll be a buffet. Which does have a certain appeal. Maybe I should go after all? Mm. I'll think about it.

I hope you have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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