That’s Life

Some mornings five a.m. is as long as I can stay in bed. I have the soul of a 25 year old but the bladder of a 62 year old. Once that deep sleep is disturbed, there is nothing to do except get up. My mind slowly begins to function, and I can’t help but think of all there is to accomplish in the coming day. With conscious thought comes that wide awake state where I can lie there in bed only so long before I begin to squirm and stretch and by then, sleep is out of the question. So I am up.

What a beautiful Christmas eve we spent!

We had a Christmas eve service at church at five in the afternoon (early so families could come and then have the whole evening with each other afterwards). It was a brief service. We sang no hymns nor did we recite any liturgies. We simply came together to hear the Christmas story read by the pastor (my dh Jim) and then have communion. The church was decorated so beautifully, and this evening service just lent that special soft lighting of candles and tree lights which made everything special. During communion a trio of wonderful musicians played and sang: a pianist, a preteen violinist, and a vocalist. I was so touched, my tears started almost the moment my husband said his first words of welcome.

Sitting there amidst these most loving people I just began to weep. Not only the love and joy and unspoken embracing of a kinship of us all touched me, but the reason we were there. I’m not a very demonstrative person when it comes to my religion. I’m a private person with some things. My relationship with God is one of those things. I don’t often talk of it. I don’t often demonstrate it in more than quiet little ways. But I felt such a powerful one-ship with God and with all of those wonderful people all around me that I just wept from being so emotionally moved.

After communion and the dismissing with a blessing, the pastor (my husband of 42 years) moved among everyone with words of love and rejoicing and that special bonding of pastor and parishioners. The whole evening was so beautiful. And even the fact that he left his lapel mic open (forgot to turn it off) and stepped outside in front of the church to see everyone away to their homes… and his voice still echoed in the sanctuary with each word of farewell or soft teasing to a child about Santa or special words to someone who needed them… that only made those of us still exiting the sanctuary smile and chuckle. The feeling of family prevailed. For we are all of the same family. The family of God.

These thoughts are the ones that kept me from sleeping this morning. Nothing huge or no looming list of things to get done today. Just simple joy relived through thought… through remembrance.

May God bless you.

(As he has blessed me.)

Is it normal for kittens (about 5-6 months old) to chew on everything, as puppies do? I’m frustrated! Our kitten Max has found weaknesses in wallboard near the baseboard in the den and hall, and he has dug it loose and hidden the little piece/pieces in his “house.” It’s like he gets wild every few hours and runs crazily through the house. If there is a seam on wallpaper that has curled, it’s fodder for his mischievous chewing. Obviously I can’t watch him every moment, and I’m beginning to wonder if he will outgrow this destructive tendency. I’m almost ready to toss him out into the elements and make him an outdoors pet. (Not really, but I AM frustrated.)

Only a few days until we go on vacation (yes, with both cats in tow), and as always I’m looking forward with mixed emotions. I love seeing my children and grandchildren and friends, but I love staying home, too. The trip will be long this time, since we’re another hour farther than we were last year. My idea of fun is not being trapped in a car with two cats for four or four and a half hours.

I’ve been reading You: Staying Young: The Owner’s Manual for Extending Your Warranty by Michael F Roizen and Mehmet C. Oz. Everything I’m reading makes good sense. I’d love to extend my warranty, and you can bet that I’ll be trying to apply many of the things learned in this informative and inspirational book. I’d recommend it to everyone.

During this season of the year, all we seem to do is run, run, run. We pause only to grab some sleep and catch our breaths. I’m not a person who loves running. In fact, I seldom move faster than a sedate stroll.

We spent a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday with our son and his new wife, and two step-sons, our daughter, and then on Saturday, our other daughter, and her family joined us. We ate and ate and played games and enjoyed the warm indoors. Between running the dishwasher and showers, I think we must have used twice the normal amount of water as for any other similar time period. What a clean bunch we were!

This is the first week of Advent, and with it, there are the beginnings of many seasonal obligations — and pleasures. Two potlucks today alone. You betcha, I’m utilizing my crock pot!  Tomorrow a meal out and a trip to see Christmas lights with a group from church. Thursday a much-needed trip to my beautician. My hair has reached that “nanner, nanner, nanner, you-can’t-control-me-any-more” stage. Saturday is our clergy family Christmas party. This will probably be the quietest week.

Oh, but come December 26th, and we’re off to the northeastern part of the state and our retirement home. This trip will be wild because we will be traveling in a pickup truck (NOT one of those trucks with a back seat), and we’ll have our animal carrier in the seat between Jim and me. Our two cats will be vying for space, and the older cat, Girlie, will probably win. She is huge. Poor little Max doesn’t have a chance. I’m sure we’ll be treated to a chorus of cat songs during that four hour drive.

Ah, but when we arrive, friends and parties await. On the agenda will be a trip to our favorite Mexican restaurant, a New Year’s Eve party at a friend’s, and perhaps a day trip to the gambling boat on the Mississippi River (only about 40 minutes from Rector). We always enjoy getting away from our regular routine, and the house at Rector is just right for that. I grew up in that house, with my grandmother and step-grandfather. We call it our cottage because of its size: two tiny bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, kitchen, and added on laundry room. Oh, and did I mention the little mysteries that abound in that house? Like doors that open and close on their own. Lights that turn on by themselves. A knocking that we can never locate. Plugged in appliances and devices (the television) that unplug themselves. (Not turn themselves off and on, but UNplug from the wall.) Oh, yes, there are mysteries there in that little cottage on Valley Street where two of my step-grandfathers passed on to the world beyond this one. At least we think they did.  We’ll see how the new cat reacts to everything. A nice week away will be a treat.

Time to get busy.

Later, y’all.