Christmas Trees Past

The newest in a long line of Christmas trees stands in our living room with its bare branches waiting for the lights and decorations. We went and cut it down the other day—just the two of us this year—and the whole ritual has brought back a flood of memories of Christmas trees past.

For my early childhood years, there are no specific memories. I just have vague images of trees with big, bright bulbs, tinsel, and all those amazing presents waiting to be unwrapped.

By the time I was in grade school, specific memories start of my father going over those strings of big, bright bulbs, making sure that they all worked. And then the actually placing of the strings started and it became a bit like the well-loved movie, “A Christmas Story,” with a bit of cursing now and then as bulbs wouldn't stay where placed. Once the lights were in place, my mother, brother, sister, and I could start placing the ornaments, having to be very careful not to break those delicate glass bulbs. And last, but not least, the tinsel had to be placed one strand at a time, per Dad’s orders. No throwing bunches or you were banned!

My maternal grandparents purchased an artificial Christmas tree in the sixties.  I can see it now—metallic silver with a light shining on it with rotating color gels of red, blue, and green. Groovy!

My paternal grandmother always had a small tree that was artfully decorated, but my favorite decoration at her home was a marble statue that was draped with a tinsel garland. She was so bohemian, and I loved it!

Our first Christmas tree purchase as a married couple was in Ithaca, New York, and Charlie Brown would definitely have loved it. The next year, we purchased one that even Charlie Brown may have passed up, so my wonderful husband drilled holes in the trunk and stuck in the branches that had been trimmed from the bottom to make it look fuller. It still makes me chuckle.

And speaking of my husband, the engineer, early in our marriage he insisted on constructing the perfect Christmas tree stand—one that held the tree completely stable and had a plastic pail that allowed us to keep the tree fully watered. Each year, it would be pulled out and modified slightly before the tree was inserted. I do have to say that it did do the job, and it did provide its share of laughs, especially the year it was accidently nailed to the floor. Today, we now use a stand purchased from a tree lot that is the same basic design as our old one. Why didn’t we get a patent on it?

Okay, back to the trees. There were the trees in Mexico that were so scrawny that we had to tie two or three together to make them look like one halfway reasonable Christmas tree. The trees in Tokyo were small and so expensive, but they were lovingly decorated and admired in a country where there were no other big Christmas displays.

Once we were back in the States, we started the tradition of cutting our trees, taking our big van and all of us singing along to the Muppets Christmas Carols. Our mission was to get the tallest, fattest trees we could find that would fit in our living room, and we succeeded every year. The trees were decorated with ornaments collected from our journeys, given to us by friends, or made by the kids. And each one was more beautiful than the last one. Multi-colored lights were traded in for white lights, and a couple years ago the tree went high-tech with LED lights. 

As I think of all those Christmas trees past, I realize that I have very few memories of the actual presents. The memories are all of family, sharing traditions, music, laughing, and love. 

Enjoy your memories of Christmas trees past!

What do you want to be when you grow up?

It’s a question that’s asked of almost every child, over and over again as certain life milestones are reached. And whether they will admit it or not, it’s a question that adults ask themselves all the time, even when they are well entrenched in a “career” and a long way away from being 10 years old and dreaming of being a fireman or a teacher or an astronaut.

I’ve found that I am at that questioning stage in my life once again. For the past several months I have been questioning the what and why of my present career status. I am good at what I do, but am I still enjoying it? Am I getting the support I need to do the best job possible? Do I feel good about my efforts at the end of the day and am I excited about doing it all over again tomorrow?

What it boils down to now is that instead of looking for an answer with a monetary return, which was so much more important when I was younger, I am looking for an enrichment return. The next career shift that I make must allow me to grow and to help others to grow. It must provide opportunities for me to interact with a diverse group of people, because diversity is what adds spice and interest to life. And, it must make me happy, because life is too short and too precious to waste time being unhappy.

The Birds!

This summer, I seem to be fascinated with birds. We sleep with the windows open, and every morning as the sun begins to creep up over the horizon, the birds begin to chirp and sing, building into a virtual symphony of sound. Their music is one of the things that I love about summer.

At the edge of our back yard is a gigantic old white birch tree, now dying due to a disease that has decimated the birch trees in our area. But, even though it is slowly dying, its bare branches now serve as a preferred perch for the local bird population. Mornings and evenings, you will often find me sitting out on the deck, scanning its silhouette with my binoculars.

On any given morning, you will see flickers and red-bellied woodpeckers at the peak, tapping away and occasionally letting out their loud calls. The pigeons exit our barn early in the morning, cooing and sounding a bit like owls, and crows and ravens use the top branches to scope out the territory before they begin their hunt.

And, talking about hunting—one morning, we were leaving the house and looked up to see four enormous turkey vultures occupying the birch tree. We were mesmerized as they posed, fanned their wings out (almost a six-foot spread), and then soared and floated over the barn and the fields behind our house. I guess the hunting was good that day! As ugly as turkey vultures are, they were fascinating to watch.

We have several resident cardinals in our yard, and their brilliant red bodies are easy to spot. Their distinctive songs ring out all day long as they circle the yard, moving from the birch tree to the old English walnut to the silver maple to the basswood.

There are hummingbirds that flit in and out of the lilac bushes that line the back edge of our deck. Sharing their space are little sparrows and chickadees and the occasional nuthatch and goldfinch. Blue jays fly in and out, challenging the other birds at a bird feeder, and I have seen a real blue bird join its robin cousins in worm hunting.

Birds abound, and I am thoroughly enjoying their sounds and flights!

Ladybug! Ladybug!

Western New York State has been infested with what appear to be Lady Bugs, and they seem determined to take over our house!

Now before you get all sentimental about those cute red and black Lady Bugs of our childhood days, my research has uncovered that these invaders are not Lady Bugs at all; they're Asian Lady Beetles. And, they are supposed to be more beneficial to the environment than the "real" Lady Bugs because they are better at controlling aphids.

I might be able to buy into this benefit if they were not present in swarms all over my house. Every ceiling seems to have a few of them crawling around. They cover the sun-facing windows. They crawl across my desk, but they don't seem to get any work done. They dive bomb me in the shower and seem to delight in making emergency landings in my coffee or cereal. They're everywhere! And, while I will admit that there is not a single aphid in sight in our house, there weren't any there to begin with!

Oh, and I left out the best part—they smell! No, you really don’t notice the odor from a distance, but if you manage to catch one and crush it before disposal, the aroma is nasty. And let’s not talk about what their body chemistry does to a nice glass of wine when they decide to use it for a landing pad.

So, now that I’ve vented about our annual spring infestation, I leave you with the opening lines of an old nursery rhyme that goes, "Ladybug! Ladybug! Fly away home!"

Stuff

Stuff has become a frequent topic at our house. It seems to have taken over our lives, consuming vast quantities of space in our large, old house and weighing down on us mentally.

Our “stuff” has been accumulated over our lifetimes. Some stuff we’ve collected—the knick-knacks and trinkets from our travels around the world. Some stuff we’ve inherited—household items, photos, furniture, tools. Some stuff we’ve saved because we thought the kids might want it some day—toys, books, puzzles, high school memorabilia. We have old computers and various parts to computers that maybe could be used for repairs. Odds and ends of lumber, screws, nails, etc., are in boxes and bins as they might come in handy for the next remodeling job. And on and on it goes.

Last summer, we held a garage sale to decrease the quantity of stuff we owned. Out of the attic came two boxes that we hadn’t seen in years. Once opened, we discovered items that had been packed away 30 years ago—when we moved to Japan in 1980—and we hadn’t missed any of it!

So, stuff is slowly but surely leaving our home. Every week, a bag goes out with odds and ends. Useable items are being donated to people who really need them. Photos are being distributed to family members that would like them, and the ones with people that can’t be identified are gone. Recycling programs have been great to get the electronic gear out of here, and remodeling projects are being completed and the leftover remnants are being tossed.

We still have a long way to go, but we already are feeling lighter and less weighed down. It feels good to have less stuff!

Friends

When I was a little girl, friends were something you kept count of. The more friends you had, the higher your social ranking. Best friends changed frequently, many times based on totally irrational criteria. So and so said thus and such about my dress, my lunch, my toys, and now they aren’t my friend! It was exhausting!

Today, my group of friends is small, but so valued. They are a diverse group of women, of different ages with different backgrounds, talents, political leanings, religious beliefs. But, what they all have in common is the ability to accept me as me, with all my flaws and foibles. They all can listen when I need an ear, and I value all the advice they have to offer. They’ve cheered me in my successes and consoled me in my failures. They’ve laughed with me, sometimes uncontrollably, and given me strength when I haven’t been able to see the light.

Weeks, months, and sometimes years have gone by, and I still can reconnect with each one of these special women as though no time has passed at all.

Some of these women stood out from the moment I met them, and I immediately decided that there was someone I wanted to call “friend.” And, some were surprises—casual social or work relationships that grew into something I treasure today.

My resolution this year is to refocus on my friends—to make lunch or dinner dates, to listen, to laugh, to support, to share, to love each one of them.

Transitions

In just a few days, we are celebrating the wedding of our son. Words cannot express how excited and happy my husband and I are that he has found his soul mate and that we will be there to help the two of them mark their transition from singles to a couple starting their journey together.

But, there is a bit of sadness too. It seems like only yesterday that we were anxiously awaiting his arrival. Every day of my pregnancy was exciting as I imagined this tiny human being forming. His first kicks were monumental. And then he arrived—three weeks late, but so welcome—and we were overwhelmed with the love that we felt and the bond that formed instantly.

Like every set of young parents, we were so anxious to mark off the milestones—smiling, sitting, crawling, walking, talking, etc.—and the eighteen years before he would be leaving us for college seemed like forever. We made sure we supported his interests and activities, and we could always be found at the school musicals, sporting events, ski slopes, and the local community theatre plays.

And now we look back and wonder where the time went. What seemed like forever has flashed by, and our son’s new future with his beautiful wife is just beginning. We’re so excited, but I know I will be a little teary eyed on the big day, remembering the time and love that led up to this very special wedding.

Double Nickels

Since I was young, I’ve always proclaimed that I was going to live to be a hundred years old. I’m not quite sure why I picked the century marker, but do I remember making that statement for the first time before I was ten. Well, I hit the half-century point five years ago, and if my prophecy is correct, half of my time is gone! And, as a good friend of mine observed, I now have more behind me than ahead of me.

It’s a thought provoker. Where has the time flown? Have I accomplished or experienced all the things that I dreamed about in my younger years? And, if I haven’t, what am I going to do about it?

Superstitious people say that this is supposed to be my lucky year. I was born in 1955 and just turned 55. So, maybe this should be the time for me start taking action—taking stock of where I am and what it is that I still want to accomplish.

A blog seemed like a great way to get some of the thoughts out of my head that seem to rattle around in the middle of the night and share them with whomever wants to take the time to read them. Cheap therapy? Maybe. Sharing and learning together? Hopefully!