Christmas lights in the city

Tonight Gay and Stu and I had dinner out. Then we rode around Roswell to see all the homes decorated for Christmas. The houses were strung with white lights from top to bottom and many pretty scenes were set on the front lawns. Some were overdone for my taste and some were simply beautiful. Many had Santa and the Nativity Scene on their lawns, but not together, thank goodness.

I was told that the tall rooftops were adorned by companies that are paid to fasten those strands of lights and I wonder about the cost. I don't have much decoration for the holidays here in my apartment, but I have enough to look festive. I think I might string some lights on my little deck overlooking the lake.

In years past, Barry hung lights on our upstairs and downstairs decks. We have a wreath on the wall of the top deck. It is dark this year. I am a little nostalgic for the way we celebrated Christmas in years gone by when Barry was still a part of me. 

We participated in the music for church, singing special songs all during the month of December. We sang in the choir and for several years Barry was the choir director for our little Presbyterian church in Hayesville. Though small, we had a loyal and devoted group who practiced every Sunday and when we were planning for our cantata, we rehearsed for weeks. 

Barry also sang in a men's group, The Singing Disciples.  

Singing makes you happy. I was always happy at Christmas in our house in the mountains. 

1995, our first Christmas in our mountain house

Barry loved Christmas and never minded going to get a live tree, hauling it up the stairs, and fitting it into a stand. It was lots of work. 

It has become evident to me that when we get older, we have to face the inevitable -- Live trees are too much physical effort for us. In 2008, after he became ill, we bought an artificial tree. It seems like a rite of passage to elderhood. 

Last year Gay and Stu finally gave up the live tree, too. I have given away my most treasured ornaments. I won't be decorating another tree. 

In the years after Barry died, I put up a small tree on a table. I decorated it with tiny ornaments and it was pretty. Gay came and helped string lights on my deck. I liked to have my women writer friends over for a Christmas luncheon. We had such a good time. I miss those days.

But life is different now.  The only thing that never changes is CHANGE. It happens all the time and we must accept it if we are to continue living and doing what is important to us. Every day I find something good in my life and realize that I am surrounded by love and caring people. What more could I ask for?

I hope you, my dear readers, have a safe and happy holiday season filled with love and joy. I hope we can all put aside our differences and remember to love one another as friends, family, or neighbors. 

THE SINGING DISCIPLES
Barry is the second man, left side, second row

Christmas in Ukraine

A CHRISTMAS POEM

William Everett is a friend of mine and an excellent blogger and poet. This week he wrote a moving poem that touched my heart. We see on television the horror of bombed-out buildings, but this poem goes deeper when we hear a baby crying. 

I hope you will visit William's blog and read his poem.

https://williameverett.com/2022/12/christmas-in-ukraine/

Take time, please, to read about this man who is exceptional in many ways.

A Fabulous Piece of Art Displayed at Christmas

This Triptych is a painting in three parts. Each end piece is hinged to the center and folds. Gay Council Moring painted this, and it is perfect. Each detail is exact with individual scenes and the Nativity Scene in the center. It is prominently displayed at Christmas in the Moring home, and I enjoy it. The beloved piece of art is around forty years old. 

The artist is my sister, Gay Council Moring.

Gay Moring is a graduate of the University of Georgia where she studied art and Valdosta State University where she earned her Master's in counseling.

Latest addition to my family

This is Henry. He is my brother's great-grandchild and he was born on my mother's birthday.

I am always intrigued by the similarities of names in generations in families.

This adorable child is the great, great, great-grandson of my mother, Lois Robison. 

His name, Henry, is a family name from his mother's family and is also the same name as my grandfather, William Henry Robison whose daughter, my mother, was born the same day and month as little Henry. They were both Christmas babies. 

I have not met little Henry yet but just want to kiss that sweet face one day. He is blessed with a loving mother and father and an extended large family. I know he will always be loved and cared for by many people. How blessed is little Henry who celebrated his first birthday in December.

Christmas Season, joyful, festive, sad and sorrowful

"I’ve found that this time of year requires a delicate dance. You may be feeling festive, joyful, or celebratory one moment, and then all of a sudden feel flooded with emotions from holidays of the past. You may find yourself missing people who are no longer part of your life, longing for traditions you no longer have, or struggling to implement new traditions. You may find yourself caught up in the madness and then find yourself trying to do your part to do less and keep it simple."  Maria Shriver's latest I've Been Thinking column.

Maria Shriver seems to write about exactly what is going on with me and in my life. I subscribe to her newsletter which comes to my Inbox each Sunday.

This is the most unusual Christmas ever in my life.

First, I have no holiday decor in my house or outside of my house. In fact, a small Thanksgiving plaque is hanging near my door. I do plan to take it down before I leave for Christmas.

I have been busy ordering gifts for Gay and Stu and a couple of close friends. I don't go out to shop in the stores now. Health issues that cause lots of pain, keep me from enjoying the stores as I once did. I loved going to the malls where Christmas music met me at the door and filled my heart with happiness. Amazon and other online shopping stores make my life easier, but this year I had most of the gifts mailed to my sister's house in Roswell, GA because I was afraid they would not arrive in Hayesville before I leave. 

I will be wrapping boxes on Christmas Eve. Due to a recent bout with unrelenting pain, I accomplished nothing at all for the past few days. Just tried to sleep as much as possible because when I am sleeping I am not hurting. 

My friend, Raven, came over Saturday to help me with some things like loading a chair in my car. 

She is unbelievably generous and caring. She brought Buddy, her little dog who is about the size of Lexie, so they could play in the backyard. Lexie was more interested in Raven, her new best friend, and followed her when she took Buddy out of the gate. In a split second, Lexie realized she was free and took off down the street. Luckily, Lexie came when Raven drove her truck nearby and dropped some treats on the ground. I was in my car going after my little escape artist when I saw Raven coming with Lexie on a leash.

After the bad week I had, I was not ready to face losing my little cuddle buddy. I am so glad Lexie came to Raven and did not continue running as she often does with me.

As I might have said before, I deal with several health issues that torment me at times. In recent weeks, I have had two relapses of TN, a nerve disorder that is often brought on by a reaction to chemicals such as perfume, scented products or cleaning supplies. Now I am having sharp pains in my face and neck, but I think my mouth is involved. This time it seems to be a Temporomandibular joint dysfunction and has been very hard to get over.

So those are some of the negative issues for me this Christmas, but I look forward to going down to my sister's beautifully decorated house for Christmas. I will not be making the cornbread dressing for Christmas dinner this year. Just not up to it. But we will have a wonderful dinner at the home of Lee, my niece, and her husband Dave. Dave is an excellent cook and he does the bulk of the cooking. Stu, my BIL, makes the sausage stuffing like his dad made. 

My Cornbread dressing usually made at holiday times

I hope to move into my apartment at the Morings' house when I go down there this time. The only thing holding us up, I'm told, is the stairlift that waits to be installed when the installer can get to it. 

I am excited to see what has been done since I was last in Roswell. I love the paint on the walls, the cabinets in the kitchen, and the vanity. I saw them when I was there at Thanksgiving. But now the floors are in and I know that makes a big difference. 

So, Christmas will be a happy time when I can be with family and when I can get into my new home away from home. Send me positive vibes for a pain-free and drive down south this week. 

I hope your holidays are fun and healthy and that you spend some time, face to face or virtual with loved ones.

Banana pudding made by Gay for holidays. This is Mother's recipe

We always remember our loved ones when we gather for meals, especially Barry, June, and Mother. As long as we remember and speak of them, they will be with us.
. . 

Words and Pictures that take me home

Photo: https://grannymarigold.blogspot.com/

Words and pictures can set our memories loose. This one makes me think of home and Christmas holidays. The word home is a prompt that provokes pages and pages of writing for me.

This picture takes me back to Santa's Forest, our Christmas Tree farm. Barry and I joined Gay and Stu in planting and growing trees on the family farm in southwest Georgia. It was Gay's idea and she convinced us to go into the business although Barry had misgivings from the start.

None of us knew how much hard work went into growing the trees from little plantings we purchased in February, heeled in, until we could plant them in the rows we had plowed with our little Kabota tractor. We began with a five-acre farm and planted one acre, a new crop, each year because it took five years for the trees to be large enough and shaped properly to sell. Gay was amazing. She learned how to prune those trees and each summer, she hired a crew of teenage boys and taught them how to properly trim the limbs to make the pines look like Christmas trees. 

Gay and I heeling in the young plants that would become Christmas Trees in five years.

We soon found that I was not much help with all that outdoor work. 

My allergies were triggered by the spray used to kill weeds and keep insects from harming the trees. But my little sister was determined to make a go of that farm and she did. She might go home looking like she had been dipped in a vat of green dye, but that was because she had been on the tractor all day greening the trees so they would look pretty to the Christmas shoppers.

The fun part of tree farming for me was selling the trees to the people who came to cut their own.

Families chose the one tree that would best fit into their home. We played Christmas music that helped keep us all in the holiday spirit. It could be heard all over the farm. We rented a small trailer for the season. It was used as our sales office and the place where we could retreat when the weather was cold and nasty. 

Many friends and their families made tree shopping at Santa's Forest a family tradition. Although we had fun and enjoyed working together, it became a full-time job for Gay. I am happy we gave this enterprise a go. I learned so much and I think we all learned many things that have served us well over the years.

The tree farm became too much for Gay to handle alone.

It was sold to a family member who soon learned that tree farming was not as easy as it seemed. He let the trees grow large and thick and turned the farm into a once-a-year event that has been fruitful for him. Santa's Forest is now The Haunted Forest and people from all around the area make an annual October trip to the haunted forest where they get their Halloween excitement.  Family members and their friends work together to create scary thrills for those who are brave enough to enter. 

Christmas holds so many memories for me and they are all centered on family and home. 

Do you have happy Christmas memories? Where do they take you?

Books make great Christmas gifts

Paws, Claws, Hooves, Feathers, and Fins

Now Might as Well be Then

Feannag by Carroll S. Taylor

Blanche by Brenda Kay Ledford

Liri: Poems of a Woodland Woman by Mary Ricketson 

Making My Way in Ethics, Worship, and Wood: An Expository Memoir by William Everett

Small things make me smile and lift my spirits.

Christmas makes me happy

As soon as I returned home after Thanksgiving, my sister Gay and I decorated my house for Christmas. I don't put up a tree, but my house is festive. 

I saw people with outside Christmas lights before Thanksgiving, and I was glad to see them. We all need some cheering up.

The day after Thanksgiving,  Gay and Stu drove me around Roswell, GA to see the lights and decorations in the neighborhoods. Living in a rural area, I seldom see this. 

We need the happiness and joy that Christmas brings us even if the holidays will not be the same as in the past. I find myself looking for small things to make me smile and lift my spirits. Across the street from me lives a lovely young mother with the cutest little boy. Sarah and Ivan come over often to bring me my mail and to walk Lexie. While I was away, Sarah looked out for package delivery and made sure the boxes were put inside my door and out of the weather. Tomorrow she will pick up some things for me at the grocery. 

One day Sarah said they were exploring my yard because they had seen something interesting. She homeschools Ivan and I assumed this was part of his studies. When I saw what interested him, I made this photo.

The giant mushroom is growing on the stump of the huge tree that fell over in my side yard. The trunk of the tree, lying on its side, is five feet high. The rest of the tree was cut and hauled off, but this mammoth wood sculpture is an interesting piece of art I see each time I drive from my house. Plants have begun to grow on it and inside the hollow.

Ivan was captivated by nature's creativity. He and his mother researched and found the name of the brightly colored, layered growth. I was told it is actually edible, but no one wants to give that a try. 

One of the negatives of being a mature adult with no children is I seldom see and talk with young ones. My nieces and nephews who have children and grandchildren live many miles away. I was once a teacher of small children and the kindergarten students were my favorites. Four and five-year-olds are such fun. I think Ivan is older, but he is still cute and well-behaved, too.

It pleases me to see a single mother doing such a wonderful job of parenting. It also pleases me to see a young person who is quick to give a helping hand, who calls to see how she might help. I hear there are some who think of no one but themselves. Their parents complain about their children, but I know people like Sarah and another young woman I will write about later, who are caring and giving, and do it because they think it is the right thing to do. 

I see the Christmas spirit in them and in the world around me. I will hold on to that for now. 

Tis the Season

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY READERS, MY FRIENDS NEAR AND FAR.

As we approach Christmas Day, a very special time each year to reflect on our good fortune, our losses, our happy times and our sad ones, we appreciate the reason for the season.

I think of this holiday as a time to renew hope in the world, to believe that we will survive as human beings because we are basically the product of our past, our forefathers and mothers who often struggled to provide the best way of life for themselves and for their world.

We have goodness in us even when we do bad things. When I hear the voices that speak out of fear, I try to turn them off. I believe that we still have strong people who won't give up and give in to the worst of human nature. 

I have seen the best in people recently, when out of kindness and caring, they left their comfort zone to give me aid when I most needed it. I know that people do this all the time, around the world, for no pay or recognition. While we hear the bad news day after day, we also hear of good deeds, good people who just want to help their fellow human being. I wish we heard more of the good than the bad, but sadly, bad news is good business for media today.

The worst part of this time of year is the begging that goes on, asking us  to give to those less fortunate, to give to political parties, to foundations and groups that help others, and the guilt we feel when we can only do so much. I get more requests for donations this time of year than any other time. 

I have a giving budget. Throughout the year, I give to the organizations I feel most passionate about, where I feel the most is needed. At Christmas, I don't receive a bonus or extra money to put into my bank account. December is not a month when I have windfalls that I don't need. As a senior adult with a fairly fixed income and too many bills to pay, I have very little cash to give to others. 

I do what I can all year long, and still keep funds to support myself. I don't want to become one of the people who needs charity. But it is a fact that those who have the least, give the most. Those who have the most and use the most resources, give the least to others. 

**************************************************************

When I see this art work out each Christmas as part of my sister's holiday decorations, I spend time just enjoying it, looking at the detail and seeing the work of love it really is.

My photo is not good, but you can appreciate the artistry of this folk art by my artist sister, Gay Moring. It is a gorgeous piece of work, in three pieces, on wood and the brush strokes are perfectly done. 

I hope you have joy and happiness and peace in your hearts and in your homes this special holiday season. I hope the new year brings you good health, love and less stress in your life. I hope you laugh every day. 

Try to find the humor in the worst of times, and you will come through better and with less pain. Even a trip to the ER can have moments of humor. That's a bit of wisdom from someone who knows.

Read this post on Senior Women for a glimpse of a Christmas that went awry.

http://www.seniorwomen.com/news/index.php/goosed-those-years-when-fate-takes-a-hand

How will you spend your holidays this year?

Christmas and Cooking Favorite Foods

What a busy time for all of us, holiday time, when we try to get together with all our friends, shop for everyone until pretty soon we are overwhelmed with too much to do.

I used to have writer friends over at Christmas, but this year I have run out of time. From now until I leave to be with my family, every waking hour is completely filled. 

I do look forward to our Christmas luncheon on Wednesday at Coffee with the Poets and Writers. We will have Open Mic and many of us can share our writing. We will bring food and it will be a great spread,I'm sure. 

Tomorrow, I will prepare my dishes for the luncheon. 
Tonight I found myself perusing old cookbooks, many of them fifty years old, and recipes I began collecting when I was a young wife. Among the pages of stained and worn covers were clippings from The Albany Herald newspaper with names of local people who shared their family favorites. 

Our local EMC newsletter contained a section for good southern recipes by south Georgia members. Many fine cooks lived in our rural community, and the recipes were all made "from scratch." 

Although I enjoyed reading cookbooks and often used the recipes, I did not cook as much as those who had children to feed every day. Barry was not a big eater and, unlike other men, he never asked what we were having for dinner or when we were going to eat. I was brought up to believe that my job, as a wife, was to make a well-balanced meal for us, with a meat, vegetables, potato and bread. He would have been just as happy with a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk.

Lois Robison Council

My role model was my mother who was an excellent cook, but she had plenty of practice. From the time she married at eighteen, she cooked for her husband. I imagine she learned from my grandmother. As our family grew, Mother cooked three big meals every day. 

I watched her make biscuits, amazed at how fast she could pinch off a piece of dough, roll it around in her palm for a few seconds, and toss it on a pan with each one lining up, touching, so they would rise to perfection in the hot oven. She used self-rising flour, buttermilk, and Crisco shortening, so simple, but so, so delicious when eaten with gravy, jelly, eggs or whatever was on the table. In summer I couldn't wait to break open a large biscuit, slather it with mayonnaise, and place a slice of fresh garden-grown tomato inside. That was the best sandwich I have ever eaten. I can taste it right now!

I tried to learn from watching Mother, and at one time I could make them pretty well, but the buttermilk I buy today is not the same and neither is the shortening. The best shortening for making biscuits was lard, but that was before animal fat got such a bad rap from all the health police.

It's good, I think, that I don't make biscuits because, like my mother, I would make them every day and eat more than I should. My sisters, brothers and I could each eat two or three during a meal. 

Do you have any recipes that were passed down from your mother or grandmother that you still use today? 
Do you remember any particular dishes cooked at your home that you miss having today?

Back home after Christmas

Lexie loves Christmas. We are in front of the tree at the Moring's.

I am back home after spending a wonderful week with my sister and brother-in-law, Gay and Stu. When I walked into their house, Christmas enveloped me. Their tree is always perfectly decorated. The mantel, table tops, buffet and dining table offer lovely Christmas themed arrangements.

They attended church two times while I was there. They sing in their choir and take their responsibility seriously. In spite of having been sick for over two weeks with a bad respiratory virus, they were able to attend rehearsals and sing the cantata as well as participate in the Candle Light Service at Alpharetta Presbyterian Church.

I felt sad as I left today, looking at the tree for the last time. Both Gay and Stu loaded my car for me and it was loaded! They are generous and very caring people. I will get out the things I need tonight, but the rest will wait until tomorrow when I have help.

We went out to eat several times and Gay and I went to see Mary Poppins Returns, a lovely musical with good acting. We did a little after Christmas shopping, as well.

I have been fighting a respiratory illness for the past few weeks and eventually was prescribed an antibiotic. I was doing much better until Christmas night. We had such fun at the home of my niece, Lee, and her family, eating and laughing so hard we could not stop. But later that night I developed something new or my original illness worsened. Now, I think I have bronchitis. I coughed so hard my chest hurts and my throat does, too. It was good that I came home. Now I can stay in bed or just do nothing until I get over this malady.

Any time I am out with people, it is easy for me to become ill. I can be exposed to a small amount of chemical such as perfume, cologne, candles or things I am not even aware of and in a short time I am sick. I believe that I react badly to live Christmas trees because they are treated with chemicals to keep them green and pesticides to kill insects you don’t want to bring into your home.

Today while reading about toxins in our home, I found some interesting facts that pertain to all of us.

Formaldehyde is in many of the products we use and have in our homes. Who would think our sofas or chairs could be hazardous to our health.  https://hpd.nlm.nih.gov/cgi-bin/household/search?tbl=TblChemicals&queryx=50-00-0

Formaldehyde is a known carcinogen. Formaldehyde is in most manmade fragrances – perfumes, scented items people use on their bodies every day. Learn more on Toxnet.  https://toxnet.nlm.nih.gov/cgi-bin/sis/search2/f?./temp/~3Tzcp3:3

An article in Readers Digest is very helpful for those of us who want to only use natural cleaning products in our homes. If everyone would use these kinds of products, people who have health issues with manmade chemicals could go almost anywhere and not become ill.

Great cleaning tips with natural products that do not contain dangerous chemicals. https://www.rd.com/home/cleaning-organizing/natural-cleaning-products/

I look forward to 2019 and am making plans now for good things to come. I hope you have stayed well during the holidays and that you will usher in a wonderful new year.

Christmas Present and Christmas Past

Here I  am on Christmas Eve, 2016, snuggled in bed listening to Christmas Carols and other Christmas music. 
Lexie is sleeping, curled into my knees. She was in her crate most of this day but when she was set free, she did manage to slip out the front door and run away for a short while. 

Gay and Stu, sister and BIL, went to church  tonight. They sing in the choir at the Presbyterian Church in Alpharetta, GA. I always like to  hear them sing. Barry's Memorial Service for our families was held at that church in 2009, and several members of  the choir sang the most  beautiful music. Ollie, the pastor there is a gifted man. I'll always be appreciative of the service he presented for us in memory of my dear husband. 

Barry Beall on his horse in Georgia

Like many of us, Barry loved Christmas. He enjoyed having people come to our house in Albany where we lived twenty-five years. He and I cut our own tree from one of the  many Christmas Tree farms in southwest Georgia until the Morings and Bealls joined in partnership to grow our own trees on the family farm. When our trees were tall enough, we spent most of  our weekends in December selling them to the  public. 

Our farm was called Santa's Forest. Gay drew a delightful Santa and painted him on wood for our large sign that we  put up a few weeks before Christmas each year. The selling  of the trees, meeting the families that came out together to purchase that all-important-part of Christmas, brought happiness to us, and all four of us enjoyed that part of having the farm.

The hot, buggy summers were not fun. Spraying the trees for insects, pruning them twice each summer, and greening them before harvest, was hard work. My sweet sister, whose idea it was to become Christmas Tree growers, felt such a responsibility that she did all of the labor. I was not much help with my allergies. Barry and Stu worked all week, so Gay climbed up on our little orange Kabota tractor and spent many, many days working to bring in a harvest we could sell. Our father was obviously proud of her, and I think that was because he felt he had finally found one of his children who enjoyed farming like he did. 

Gay and I are heeling in the little pines until time to plant them in the field. I am in front in the red hat. It was a cold February. 

Having a business built around Christmas put a dent in our time to decorate our houses, buy and wrap presents and entertain our friends. When Gay realized that she was the only one of the four who really wanted to grow Christmas Trees, she sold the business to our nephew. 

Like my father, I was very proud of her. She had so much determination and self-discipline. She would call me and say she was coming  out to work on the farm and I felt my heart sink. I could not bear going out into the ninety-degree weather which sapped my energy. An hour working outside left me limp as a dishrag. I felt like a wimp, a traitor to my sister, but I was just no good as a farmer. The chemicals in the spray made me sick, and I worried about Gay breathing in those toxins. I was extremely happy when the tree farm was sold. I was glad Gay had been successful with her business even though her partners did  not hold up their end of the agreement. 

A real Christmas Tree was always important to us.
Barry never minded struggling with a tall tree, forcing it into a stand and helping me with the lights. Stu is the same. He strings the lights for their tree and Gay prunes any branches that need to be cut to enhance the cone shape expected. She knows how to make a Charlie Brown tree look like a Fraser Fir.

I have  not  had a real tree in my  house since Barry died. I bought some small artificial trees over the years, but  it was not until this year that I found one I  like. It came with the LED lights already strung and all I had to do was stick the two parts together and plug it  in. Not so  much fun, but it gives a nice Christmas touch with the lights Gay and I strung on the windows behind it.

Gay and Stu still buy the real tree, wrestle it into the stand, and Gay still prunes away anything that doesn't look like a Christmas Tree. The three of us open gifts on Christmas morning. We miss Barry. I feel an emptiness that will never be filled, but we enjoy our Christmas morning. Stu makes a great Santa Claus as he gives out the gifts, even some for our canine family members. 

The years pass quickly, and before we know it, it will be December 2017. 

When we were young, it seemed we had plenty of time. Now I reflect on Christmases past and wish I could go back to visit some  of those times. I'd like to do a few things differently.

I wish I had made a big effort to include Barry's mother in our holidays after she was too old to drive down to visit us. She spent many Christmases alone. 

I wish I could see my mother in her kitchen making fruit cake and eggnog, having a little drink of the whiskey with Stan, her son-in-law, before pouring it into her recipe. Her house smelled like Christmas to me, and I miss that smell. I miss her.

I wish I could tell my father how much I appreciated his picking up pecans all during the fall, having them cracked and picking the fruit from the shells by  hand. He  put in hours and hours of time to give each of his seven children bags of shelled nuts for Christmas. I don't think I ever really thanked him for his thoughtfulness and hard work.

We can't go back, but we have great memories that will be with us, in our hearts, as long as we live. We can make new memories, and we can share our memories with others, in our writing, in our family stories, our journals, and our stories will become their stories one day. 

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my readers in the United States and in other countries in this wonderful world.

Christmas - now I can enjoy the season

Today I feel I can relax and enjoy the holidays. Until today, I have had something hanging over me that kept me from focusing on Christmas.

I hosted a panel discussion yesterday at our local library on publishing and marketing your writing. Thankfully, I had volunteers who helped me. We all learned from the three authors on the panel, each of whom wrote different kinds of books. Even the best authors, however, stew under the pressure of marketing their books. 

Photo by Joan Ellen Gage

I tried to shed some light on how poets can get prepared before they have the books in hand. With the glut of books on the market these days, it is very hard for a new author to get attention. 

But today I feel relieved it is over. I just wish it had gone perfectly. I am a perfectionist in many ways and when I am responsible, I want it as near perfect as it can be. 

I realize you can't control the behavior of others, but it irritates me that someone agrees to be on a panel discussion but stands up and does a presentation on himself instead of taking the questions and becoming part of a discussion. That is bad etiquette, and he will not likely be invited to take part in another program. This little quirk upset the schedule and made us run over our time so many people did not have a chance to question the other panelists. 

Readers, have you ever faced this situation? I felt my other two panelists were cheated out of their time to talk. I finally had to cut him off by going to the podium and preparing to speak. 

One thing I have learned in the past twenty years is that if you want to be successful in anything, don't be pompous, arrogant or demeaning of others. What one must do to be successful is think of others first. 

This author did have some good content to offer. I hope those attending took away all the information given and can use it in their own writing career.

I am now ready to finish my Christmas shopping, online, and wrap presents. This past week I attended a lovely afternoon party with good friends and had lunch with two of my dearest friends, Mary Mike and Estelle. So the holidays have crept in a bit already, but from now until December 26, I am all in. 

Estelle Rice and Mary Mike Keller

I hope all of you, my special friends of the blogosphere, will have a glorious holiday season. Stay well and love one another. 

Holiday memories get to me this time of year

Gay, June and Glenda in 2011 

Holidays bring up the nostalgia of long ago celebrations with family, many long gone now. 

I grew up in southwest Georgia in a simpler time when we found our Christmas tree in the woods on the farm where we lived. Max, the only one of my four brothers now living, took on the responsibility of taking his little sisters to find the right tree. Looking back, I am sure he spent many hours inspecting the pines and cedars during the fall months so he could take us right to the one that would serve us best.

From pictures taken back when Gay and I were little children, it is evident that we did not have many trees shaped like the typical ones we see today. We might have a cedar tree one year and a pine tree the next. (They would be called Charlie Brown trees today) 

I remember the cedar trees were flimsy with soft branches that would not hold up ornaments of any weight. The pine trees smelled good but were sticky with resin that got on our hands and clothes. The long needles drooped sadly. They, too, were difficult to decorate. 

We did not have lovely ornaments bought in stores when we were really small. We made our colored chains or used garland saved from years past. We hung faded blue and red balls bought when my brothers were kids. However, we always had silver icicles dressing up the humble tree. 

After 1946, we had electric lights on our tree each year. That was what I loved best, the twinkle lights and bubble lights. Max made us a star from cardboard, paint and glitter. I couldn’t have been happier with a Christmas tree when I was under the age of six, than I was with the ones we brought home from the woods. Nobody I knew bought a Christmas tree back then unless you purchased an artificial tree, and no one in our family would dare do such a thing. 

As long as my mother lived, we always had a Christmas tree at her house and until she was unable because of declining health, to handle the big gathering, all of our family came there on Christmas Day, exchanged presents and ate a delicious meal. This time of year the memory of those days wells up in me like water from a spring. I can close my eyes and feel the joy of family, smell the scents of Mother's fruit cake cooking, the dressing we always had for Christmas dinner, the fresh smell of the tree, and hear the voices of my mother, sisters and other dear family members, talking, laughing, sharing their love for each other. 

Today’s Christmas trees wear the most beautiful ornaments and wrappings. I can hardly believe the time and money it takes to decorate even one. 

A few years ago, I visited a cousin, Steve, and his wife, Maria, in Dawson, Georgia. They have renovated one of the old houses still standing in that town and it is beautiful all the time, but at Christmas it looks like Santa's elves have sneaked in and turned the place into a wonderland.

Below see some pictures of their house at Christmas. 

The Christmas tree in the living room of my cousin's house had not one bare branch on it, I'm sure. 

This tree was in a bedroom with ornaments that matched the decor of the room. Every room of this huge house had been meticulously decorated for Christmas. My eyes could not take it all in.

One of the many fireplaces in the vintage house where Steve and Maria live in Dawson, GA. 

The tree below was in the home of Gay and Stu Moring, my sister and brother-in-law. This was before the presents were added. When I see this perfectly shaped tree I smile. So different from the trees we had as children.

We learned how to make a perfectly shaped tree when we grew up and owned a Christmas tree farm. Gay still prunes away anything on the tree they purchase that doesn't look like a Christmas tree. 

I don't dare put up any kind of Christmas tree this year. 
Lexie, my puppy/monkey gets up on tables, into flower pots, trash cans, closets and I can imagine what she would do to a Christmas tree. But she does have a stocking hanging on the mantel that she has not yet discovered,  therefore it is safe -- for now. 

Christmas Day 2014

We have come  to the  end of another Christmas Day. When I was a young girl, the end of Christmas left me feeling sad, even crying sometimes. I didn't understand why I felt such sadness. My sister didn't feel sad. No one in my family seemed sad  but me.

Now I understand it. During Christmas season, everyone I  knew was happy. Mother was extremely joyful because all of her children would soon be around her table again. She  never minded all the cooking a
nd cleaning, the shopping and gift wrapping. Her cheerfulness rubbed off on all of us. Daddy smiled more. Christmas was a family time, a time to show the love we had for each other. 

We sang Christmas Carols, played Christmas music on our record player, and gift giving for the children was a big thing. Anticipation is often more exciting than the main event. My husband said he believed I had rather plan a vacation than actually go on the trip. I think my sadness at the end of Christmas Day was because of the let down, the drop of the  adrenaline, the end of preparation for that special day. 

And part of it was disappointment. The Big Day never measured up to my high expectations. My family didn't behave as I had hoped. I wanted a Hollywood Christmas, just like the ones in the movies. My family laughed and told stories, but kept serious feelings under wraps. No one uttered words like "I love you." 

This weekend while I was away, a couple of young people stayed at my house. They were visiting my neighbor and she didn't have enough room for all her company. One was a young Muslum who was so excited that he would have the  opportunity to be part of a real Christmas holiday celebration. He asked his friend, "Will it be like in the movies?" 

Barry and I were big fans of Andy Williams and I loved his Christmas TV specials.

I don't know what the young visitor expected or if it met with his ideas of what  it should be. I never  had a Christmas like in the  movies. The happiest were with my beloved husband who never outgrew his boyish love of giving and receiving at Christmas. He deliberately and very slowly opened each gift, taking as long as he could while everyone waited. The kids complained loudly and begged him to  hurry, but he liked to tease them.
His passing has affected my enjoyment of the holiday and it affects my sister and brother-in-law with whom we always spent the day.

Now, six years after his death, I can say I really enjoyed  this Christmas. I missed Barry and we talked about him with love and laughter. The pain has lessened enough that I can find joy in being with friends and family so dear to me.

Barry Beall

Tonight I am excited about the coming new year. 2015 is going to be a good year. I feel it in my bones, and I am not crying tonight.