Pictures from Christmas 2010

From my house to yours Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas 2010

This is my 59th Christmas and after probably 30 years I turned my traditions upside down and it worked out so very well that I was left with the understanding why nothing should be written in stone... well except the menu for dinner. THAT can't change. I always spread things over 2 days. In the past we had Christmas Eve dinner and opened up a single gift on that night. Then I stayed up till all hours wrapping stocking presents and making breakfast casseroles... and as a reward to myself I also consume a significant amount of cheap champagne. I would go to bed for about 2 hours then get up, light the tree, and pop the breakfast in the oven. I made the kids come back at about 7 am to open stockings and presents. It was always a little tense.. fun but tense(can anyone say tired). I know the "reason for the season" and I love the celebration of Jesus birth, BUT I still think I was hanging on to the illusion that I had to have Santa Clause pass for my adult children. I think that was more for me than them. I also changed my guest list. I had only family and a long time friend, my kid's 'Taunte" Jill. We had 7 at the table and while I missed the wonderful guests I had had in the past I have to admit that this was lovely. We ate a wonderful meal and then opened presents and we had the best time. I am now faced with the daunting process of taking all the decorations down. Keep in mind that I only utilized about 10 of the 20 some boxes of decorations that I have in the attic. My only 2 New Years resolutions(along with the usual following my diet resolution.. but this doesn't count because it's one of those "givens") is to clean out the attic and organize my "lovelies" and to finally get my kid's 1995 present organized and wrapped. I started picture albums for my kids that covers from their great grandparents to present. I have not gotten far and Becky gifted me with a Family Tree Maker download that I am very excited about. If it takes me the rest of 2011 I WILL get this done. So to all my friends and family I hope your Christmas was blessed and that in the midst of all the eating and gifting that time was taken to reflect on the birth of our Lord Jesus.

I have posted pictures in the next blog.

Well Quite Frankly Scarlet, Aging Sucks

I just can't stop myself. I just finished jogging down memory lane in my last blog and I am still thinking about aging. I don't have a choice. I. Am. Getting. Older. It. Sucks. You can give me all the rah rah crap about the serenity of our elder years and how age brings wisdom and best of all how 60 is the new 50. Horse shit. Younger is better. My skin, hair, eye sight, and boobs all were better younger. Well the boobs aren't. After the cancer I have permanently perky boobs sans nipples... they are so very perky you will be able to sit a glass of champagne on them while I am laid out in my casket.... I miss being able to see day light between my thighs. I miss my size 10 string bikini and my tight narrow leg jeans. I miss my memory. I miss dating. Between husbands I loved to date. It was up to the yahoo I went out with to impress me. I juggled several yahoos. I had a good time. Oh man do I miss tanning. The big C stopped that in short order and quite frankly as said before tan fat looks a hell of a lot better than white fat. I miss thin ankles and high heels. I miss thin fingers that aren't bent with arthritis. It loses the impact when I am pointing at something and my finger is off by 30 degrees. I even miss jogging..sort of. Well what I really miss is getting whistled at when I jogged by in my shorts. Now, if I jog on the treadmill the staff at the gym will give me a standing ovation, but it's not the same thing. I miss being able to hold my urine. But my lack of bladder control may not be the fault of those pesky kegles muscles it may be a mind thing. I can pee just before I leave work and by the time I get home 20 minutes later I am hobbling in the house cross legged trying to make the pot before I wee wee down my leg. Nah... it's still the kegles. I think I must have had a kegal centered stroke. I miss being able to stay up till all hours and then get up after 3 hours sleep and go to work and feel great.

Things that I don't miss and I do like about aging.

I don't miss shaving my legs every day. I shave one a month if I think about it and maybe not even then. I am not quite as hairy as I was. I don't miss being polite all the time. While I am not rude exactly, I just pretty much say what I want to say. Younger times I would have worried about what the person thought about me.... now I just don't care and I go by the theory that Honesty is really the BEST Policy. My memory being what it is half the time telling a lie to be polite is risky because I will forget what I said. I really do like the fact that I have been around long enough that a)nothing much surprises me b) if by chance I am surprised I can be rude about it and make a pithy comment. I like knowing things. I know a lot of things.... don't ask me what right now but as it comes up I realize I know things. I like that I have read thousands of books and I am very pleased that few are self help crap. I like that crossword puzzles in the NYT or the USA Today don't stump me for long. I like the fact that age has taught me the importance in paying attention to politics and letting my voice be heard(people at work don't like that but then of course they are younger) I like the fact that I have had close friends for 30+ years that have stood the test of time. There is something about knowing a person that long that is special.
I like that fact that generally when I speak, people listen... and usually do what I want.

They have a new pill out that has been successful with mice. Apparently the physical side of aging has been reduced by like 20 mouse years..... I want to test that pill.

Memory Lane

Well I just hit the big 59. I am staring directly at 60 and it leaves me breathless. I recently made a whirl wind pass through trip to Columbus, Ohio and passed by my old homestead( see 2 blogs down with pics). This blog is going to ramble some so bear with me as I jot down memories that I thought were gone. I drove by my old elementary school and through my old neighborhood. Nothing much has changed and I remembered a simpler time. I told my friend how when I was growing up it was not unusual to walk three streets over to visit my friends Susie and Sandy. I never felt scared after dark, no one tried to pick me up, I never knew anyone who had been kidnapped by a predator or even what a child molester was. It was funny but visiting brought back happy memories and those that had hurt. Each year during elementary school I went to Nancy Northrup's house for her birthday. Her father took us to the Jet's baseball game and we spent the night at her house. She had a doll called Pitiful Pearl and I can still see it in my mind's eye. When I passed by my elementary school I remembered Marta who lived across the street... I thought she was the most cool in my 6th grade class and I could see her as she was then. I remembered Debbie Curry who had a real swimming pool in her back yard. Debbie was covered in freckles and I was jealous because I didn't have any. I remember in 5th or 6th grade that Barb, Melanie and I had desks together and they got mad at me because I was horse crazy and that's all I talked about. I was extremely irritating and unknown to me for a time they took turns and wrote down everything I said( thank you Jesus they didn't have a tape recorder)and finally they "talked" to me and told me why they hated me. I cried that day and Marta asked me to her house after school and that made being snubbed by my desk mates tolerable and she told me the whole class thought that Barb and Mel were 'weird' and not to feel bad. I passed by the front of the school where we used to play 4-square. I was playing there the day President Kennedy was killed. I played with Patty Weigand as a child and was in awe of her fake silver Christmas tree that changed colors via a rotating color wheel. Patty got a Chatty Cathie talking doll one year and it flat killed me, I wanted one like that so badly. I remembered that after Astronaut John Glen went up Patty got a live chicken for Easter and called the damn thing John Glen. Scott Fortenbacher lived one street over and I wonder if he still has that Lionel Train set. The set up took up most of his basement, it was a guy thing but still pretty neat. I thought of Melanie(a different Mel) who got the first Beatles haircut and Betsy Hicks who had Friday slumber parties and couldn't eat peperoni pizza until after midnight because she was Catholic. We were poor and we couldn't afford many up to date clothes. In junior high school Sandy Kennard got "Villager" clothes and I was pea green with envy. Susie Loik had the coolest bedroom and played tennis in her bare feet. Susie and Sandy both had that "something" that made others want to be around them and I was glad that we were friends. We called our parents Mr. and Mrs. and we moved freely around each others homes. I was called Girt... I don't remember why... and in high school we wrote notes to each other daily(today we would have texted). I thought of my first real crush( NOT returned) in elementary school, his name was Bernie. I don't think I was particularly popular but I did manage to go to all three senior proms (Tom, Ray, and Randy in that order). I spent winters skating at Westgate Pond and summers swimming at Bender's pool (also called Hilltop). Our world was different then and better. There were rules and we obeyed them. If we didn't we got in trouble. Our parents did not expect the schools feed us and teach us manners. That was the job of our parents AND if we acted the ass we got it BAD at home. A note from the teacher was a guaranteed grounding. School was for education. We prayed in school and daily said the pledge. We didn't have the worry that indiscretions, real or imagined, would be put on YouTube or texted to the whole class. We sniped and gossiped about each other as girls will but it pretty much stayed in the neighborhood. I don't remember being really bullied nor was I mean. I think I just pretty much went with the flow. I was a Blue Bird, Campfire Girl and Girl Scouts and hated all of them. I took piano lessons from a neighbor, Miss Ruth Thatcher. Miss Ruth was blind and utilized light knuckle slapping when a wrong note was played. I hated to practice and the knuckle slapping got old thus the only thing I can play now is chopsticks. The library is still there at the end of the block. I wish I could remember the librarian's name. I owe her so much. She encouraged my reading and fed my imagination. I am what I am now because of where I was raised. I took what I was given and made it better. End of my ramble.

PS. Before I forget.... to my tablemates Barb and Melanie..... bite me.