In retirement, nothing much pushes me. And when I'm in a place where I'm pushed, I don't react well. But, I was fairly organized as I got my holiday boxes ready to mail this morning. My goal was to have six boxes ready for the mail and in the back of the car when I left the house for a noon appointment, and I made it! I even found the time to finish making a fabric bag for Emerson's gift, to wrap three small gifts, and to have a brief conversatio
n with my sister. One box I had just sealed when it occurred to me that the elderberry jelly wasn't in it. I hated to open it, but I did, and the mental eye was right. I owed that box some jelly. And in the process of my work, I made a huge mess of the house.
I made it to my hair appointment on time and had a great visit with my stylist. We discussed how Christmas traditions have changed in our families. "I have to focus on other aspects of the holiday," I said, to which she replied, "Yes, and my first focus is not to cry." We laughed.
I picked up Mike at TaxTyme and we went on to our broker's office for an open house where we had lunch. I couldn't help but think that we've been attending these affairs for twenty years. When we started we were by far the youngest couple there and it's still true to some extent.
After lunch Mike went with me to a postal station to mail the boxes. It was great to have help. And we didn't have to wait in line as I had feared.
We shopped for a while, then Mike went back to work and I shopped some more. I stopped at Walmart to pick up more towels to embroider. Arriving home as evening was beginning to fall, I was greeted by an eager Nellie who insisted we should go for the walk right then. I obliged. Supper was with the geocachers at the Pizzeria, where we visited with a couple originally from Oklahoma. We told them about our trip to Mississippi last summer.
Some goals for this holiday season will not be realized this year. For instance, I have a dream of "going green" – eliminating all wrapping paper and bows. But somehow those re-usable fabric bags just didn't materialize. (Get it – materialize – LOL.) It probably has something to do with the lack of push. "But," protested Hallie, when I mentioned my disappointment, "you still have lots of paper. You could use it up."
"That's just it," I explained. "I amassed quite a bit before I realized we just don't use much wrapping paper any more. It will take me forever to use it up and I'd rather store fabric and yarn than wrapping paper."
Meanwhile, Debbie at "about.com: Sewing" posted instructions for making fabric sacks to accommodate standard-size boxes. Yes-s-s-s! I like it when someone paves my way.
And then there's an afghan I'm crocheting for a young friend. It won't be ready for her this Christmas, but I don't think I'll hold it for next Christmas. I'll finish it and get it to her this winter. KW
Christmas 1933, Ina’s son
Vance (my dad) set out from his home in Raymond, WA (125 miles south of
Seattle), to spend Christmas with the folks on the farm. Apparently he became
concerned about the weather and stayed in Seattle, but somehow the family at
Gilbert didn’t get the message that he wasn’t coming. His sister Myrtle,
however, did make it home, traveling to Lewiston from Portland on the train.
She writes as follows on December 29, 1933:
I
got through in good time, the train was five hours late into Lewiston and we used
all the tracks north and south bank, but still I got in in plenty of time to
catch the stage* to Orofino. Ed Ingram came for me and we had a hard time
making it in from the highway – six inches of snow on top of soft roads. There
was a heavy mantle of snow over all the trees. I got a picture of the house [before]
the snow began to go. But we will have more, I hope. Myrtle Dobson (Aunt Lynn), Christmas 1933
