OMGosh! It’s early evening already and I failed to take a moment to collect my thoughts around gratitude. […]
Waning October is a warm respite whispering hello to cold frost and snow. Still, [tweetthis]if I look closely, […]
It’s been a while since I posted an outfit. I’m sure you’re not interested in what I wear while typing or to the gym.
Today CoCo and I went to Rainforest Cafe. We celebrated her friend Allison’s birthday with lunch, a huge desert, and a little shopping. It’s the first of Allison’s birthdays that has come and gone without her in this world. Rainforest is one of their favorite spots. (For more about our loss and what Allison gave to us, click here.)
[tweetthis]No, Abby, no. You failed to think this one through.[/tweetthis]
I like reading “Dear Abby,” the same way I like reading the Horoscope or guessing how old the celebrities are on their birthday (I give myself ±2 years for a “correct” guess. Did you know Gloria Steinem is close to Mom’s age than mine?) Oh Abby, you got this one so wrong.
My version of the letter and the response:
Dear Abby: I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving at my house with my children for the past 44 years. Last year my daughter-in-law, Daisy, wanted to celebrate with her mom because of her mom was recovering from cancer. I relented. This year she wants to do the same. She kindly invited me and hubby to join her and her parents. I don’t want to go, told her so, invited her and her parents to my house. She hasn’t replied. I’m afraid I’ll be missing the grandkids. – Grandma KnowsIt.
Abby: Daisy obviously wants to start her own family tradition. Suck it up, go to her house, and agree to alternate years with her.
Me: Abby, did you miss that KnowsIt has children, not just a child? Agreeing to go to Daisy’s house, and alternating years, disrupts the whole dynamics of Thanksgiving. Tradition belongs to more than Daisy and KnowsIt. Daisy, 44 years means that KnowsIt is probably at least 64 years old. Maybe she can keep up the tradition for another 20 years, but chances are she’ll want some help some time sooner than that. KnowsIt, did you forget that 44 years ago, you started a new tradition?
Okay, so here’s the advice from The Black Tortoise. (I learned this, like so many things, from Mom’s example.)
As families grow and change, traditions should be flexible. KnowsIt broke with tradition at some point. I mean, she hasn’t been hosting Thanksgiving from the day she was born, and even if she did, that would have broken someone’s tradition, assuming Thanksgiving was part of her DNA. Changing tradition willy-nilly, with no discussion with your other children is a recipe for disaster. DON’T DO IT. By the way, have you talked to your son about this?
Today I have moments of silence; moments between moments; moments to contemplate. Thank you thank you thank you. […]
Loved-One found this spider. Isn’t she beautiful? We posed our Isaac for scale, and well, for a little […]
This house started hosting a Halloween Party twelve years ago. CoCo wanted the party, and I wanted to […]
Whoa! I feel a little stressed this morning. Wait! It’s already afternoon. The weather remains mild. I have work that pays. My family is healthy. I have enough to eat and a cozy house. Having too much to do is self-inflicted stress. I did my daily reading and hurried through the briefest of meditations. I met CeCe for yoga, and five minutes later wished it was over. So I tell myself, ‘just breathe.’ [tweetthis]It’s all good. Too much is more, not less. Count your blessings.[/tweetthis]
[icon name=”smile-o” class=”” unprefixed_class=””] A week with grandchildren: Miss E, Miss S, and Mr. C. What wonderful kids. They practically take care of themselves. All three climbed into bed before 8:30 and got themselves up and ready for school without a word of fuss.
[icon name=”rocket” class=”” unprefixed_class=””] Rocket Clubs and newspaper assignments. 
Without the newspaper assignment I would never have met some fellow science geeks, saw adults and children bonding over rocket blasts, or met a new writer friend. Wonderful.
[icon name=”heart” class=”” unprefixed_class=””] Marching band competition. The best
I worked all weekend, so I sorta feel like today should be my day off. It’s not. Wha-wha! I’m so happy to have a fresh start with a new contract. Yay!
Why did I upgrade to the new OS this weekend? When did Apple get so bad about releasing buggy upgrades? My mail no longer worked. Wha-Wha! I tried to troubleshoot it on my own. I did an internet search. Yup, it’s not just me. Several sites had work-arounds. They didn’t work. Apple acknowledged the importance of fixing the problem and promised to put their resources behind a fix.
Drat it all.
Cold weather and wind blew, reminding me that winter will be here sooner than I’d like.
Mom called and said she changed her plans and decided to stay home, rather than visit this weekend.
I gave CeCe a call, just to talk. Okay, because I worried a bit. Just a bit of intuition. I interrupted her dinner. She got testy; not the first time in recent weeks.
I shut down and went to bed.
[tweetthis]This morning’s yoga was all stiffness and falling down. No balance. [/tweetthis] Too much time sitting on my sit-bones. Wha-Wha! So where’s the gratitude? Everywhere. If I stop and look.
Photo Friday: Your Slip is Showing
I borrowed this title from a favorite column in Readers’s Digest. For some reason, those grammatical and spelling […]