Holiday Musings

Again with the musing, you say. Yup. Get used to it. I like to think about what holidays mean, what they don't mean, and how to get the most pleasure out of them.

With Thanksgiving behind us, I turned my attention on "what's next." First, it was disemboweling the turkey carcass and turning it into sliced meat for sandwiches and broth for hearty soups. Then it was pulling the Christmas decorations out of the garage and dragging them to the front porch.

Thank goodness for more football games than any human should watch. With various games in the background, I managed to get the tree up, decorate it, and decorate the remaining hard surfaces in the house. That is, those hard surfaces that I felt like decorating.

Like many people, Terry and I have waaaay too much stuff for the holidays. Not everything comes out every year. A few things stay behind and are not seen for years. One of these days, I'll find them and march them over to Goodwill. Maybe someone else will display them.

Still, I am as decorated as can be.

While all this activity was going on, I realized how happy I am. I love my husband and our life. I might even love it more if I weren't working three days a week. I don't yet know when I'll pull the plug, but having nine days off in a row made having nine more off in a row veeeery attractive.

Thanksgiving Musings

I have so much to be thankful for every day of the year. Sometimes, though, it is a good thing to take stock of the list. Today is that day.

I am grateful for my family, in all its iterations and variations. We are not a "typical" family, whatever that is. We all have good health, keen minds, and jobs. In today's environment, all three have equal weight in the plus column. My husband and I will become grandparents for the first time next spring, so we are doubly grateful for the little pink peanut growing in Aleta's womb.

I am grateful for finding my sense of place. After decades of living hither, tither and yon, I am so glad Terry and I found our sense of place at Smith Mountain Lake. I can lay my eyes on still or roiled waters. I can look at mountains near enough to touch. I am grateful for the artistic and literary communities that have embraced me and encouraged me to follow my dreams.

I am grateful that I live in a counntry where I can engage in political discourse and peaceful discord without fear of reprisal or arrest. I may not like everything that is going on, but I pray that cooler heads will prevail and collectively we can move the country forward one baby step at a time.

I am grateful for the turkey roasting in the oven, for being able to put food on the table, for my loving husband, and all my friends.

I wish everyone a loving and restful day. As for me, I plan to spend the afternoon in a turkey coma watching football. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

The end of home games

Alas, Saturday was our last home game this season for Navy football. We made the trek north to Annapolis five times this year. And wonder of wonders. Not a single rainy game this time. Last year, we were sodden at least twice.

Saturday's game was a fitting farewell to our senior class. Each senior marched onto the field with family and sponsors to be honored. Having watched these young men play for four years, I can say our officers' core is in fine hands.

Our small community of season ticket holders disbanded until next year. As with any community, our friends had good and bad luck. Death of a parent. Surgery. Success of a son who is going to fly for the Navy. Redeployment for a Marine pilot who taught at the academy for the past three years. We will miss watching his son grow up. Zander is quite a fan at 22 months.

Most of us are skipping the Army-Navy game. At least in person. Something about being wimps sitting out in Philadelphia on December 11 and freezing our tails off. We agreed that hot toddies, fires and home-made chili won out over $9 beers and crummy hot dogs.

Until next year. Go Navy. Beat Army!

Fred First on Earthcare

Yesterday, the Friends of the Franklin County Library and Smith Mountain Arts Council worked together to bring Fred First to speak on his love of our planet earth. Fred lives in Floyd County and has been blogging about his exploits there since 2002. I've been reading his blog since 2008 and love it.

Fred drove down and back in dense fog (see his latest blog entry) on a barely two-lane highway unfit for cars or trucks. Even the deer avoid it. The enthusiastic audience loved his presentation, though, so I trust the hair-raising trip was worth it.

Fred read a couple of essays, talked about his passion for the earth, showed us a wonderful multimedia show of photos and music, and even let us complete our Christmas shopping. Yes, he thoughtfully brought copies of his two books, Slow Road Home and What We Hold in Our Hands. I saw many of the guests walk out with copies of each. Wonder how many will find their way into Christmas stockings. Mine belong to ME.

BTW, I filtched Fred's picture from his blog.