Hello, My Darlings...

By the time you read this, Christmas Day will be over and the last of the Hanukkah candles will have been lit. I hope your holiday was joyful and that you are enjoying these days leading up to the New Year.

I'm writing on this Christmas Eve Eve and the last of my expected Christmas purchases has arrived at the office. I will wrap it and get it under the tree tonight. I definitely have visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. I am pretty proud of myself for having such a good attitude. Yesterday, I drove my oldest daughter, her husband and my 2 1/2 year old granddaughter to the airport so they can spend Christmas in New York with my son-in-law's family. I was upbeat all the way and only cried when I got back in the car. I came back to work only to learn that Joe Cocker had died. Very sad for one of his biggest fans. When I got home, I got a bill in the mail that threw me for loop. I could have let all this get to me, but I didn't. I reflected on the fact that I will indeed have Christmas with my children and grandchildren when my oldest one returns. We have postponed our Christmas, present opening and all, to the day after New Year's Day. It just won't be on the 25th, but it will be Christmas. I also remembered that I got to see Joe Cocker in concert about 7 years ago. He couldn't have been more amazing. And the bill? I will take a big girl pill and pay it.

As I get older, it takes more and more to make me distressed. One of the gifts of maturity is knowing how to manage and sort out things that don't feel good. At the same time, I have come to appreciate things that elevate my good nature and make me smile. A sweet friend of mine gave me the best present recently. She had given the same gift, a special handmade pair of earrings, to another one of our friends and I admired the gift greatly. I may have even whined a bit. I absolutely loved these earrings, so before long I had my own pair. They make me so damn happy. There is something about them that makes me forget when I am feeling sad or bad or conflicted. They are magical. I wore them today because I needed to and since they are really Christmas earrings, I am probably going to have to stop wearing them at some point and go cold turkey. I will find some more magic somewhere else. I always do. That's the trick to staying happy.

I will certainly wear my special earrings on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, which will be very different for me this year. Because one child was away, I encouraged the others to spend time with the husbands/boyfriends family. Whatever happens, it is all good. I think I have this grown up thing down pretty well. It gets easier all the time.

Be happy, healthy and full of love.

Holiday Cheer

I love everything about Christmas. I was one of the lucky ones who had parents who made it into a big deal. My dad would do the lights and they were always perfect. My mother made custom strings out of the old fashioned big bulb variety by using only red, green, and yellow, in that order. All other colors were deleted, so the overall effect was that our very symmetric house with a central path to the front door, looked like a gingerbread house. The bay windows in the living room were the perfect stage for our perfect tree. It was glorious.

Now our tree was another matter. This was long before artificial trees started looking so life- like, so of course we had a real one. This was one of my favorite parts of Christmas, the tree hunt. The standard lots never had the quality of tree that my mother demanded, so we went downtown to the train yards where the trees came in from Oregon. There were wholesale lots with bigger trees than most homes can accommodate. If we didn't find one that was perfect from every angle that was already on a stand, my dad would hop into the train car and start picking up trees and twirling them around for my mother's inspection. It was such an adventure. I loved the smells... the pines, the sawdust on the ground, hot chocolate from the food vendors. I think about those days every year when I unpack my pre-lit Scotch Pine and put section A into B and both into C. It's not the same, but it is so much easier and my tree looks great.

On Christmas Eve, my dad would call us outside to see the blinking red lights in the sky and told us that it was Santa. He had a way of making us believe that Santa Claus was circling around our town just waiting for us to go to bed. Little did we kids know that it was just small aircraft viewing the Christmas displays from the air. We left cookies and milk, and carrots for the reindeer, and went to bed earlier than usual. I remember so distinctly hearing him on the roof. Big footsteps and the sound of bells above my head were so thrilling. God bless my daddy for climbing up the ladder and stomping on the roof and ringing those bells. I always pretended to be asleep when my parents came in around midnight and told us that they were pretty sure Santa Claus had been there. I was usually a little nervous on my way down the hall to the living room. Had I been good enough? Did Santa know about a few things that nobody else did? Would there be nothing there for me? I was always relieved and delighted to see lots of packages with my name on them. My family always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve as it turned into Christmas morning. It was the best.

I believed in Santa Claus way longer than most children. In grade school, when I would come home and tell my mom that some kid told me that there was no such thing as Santa, my mom would say that Santa doesn't come to those who don't believe in him. From then on I didn't mention it much in the play yard. I had a good thing going with Old Saint Nick, because I BELIEVED. When I graduated the 6th grade and was going into junior high, my parents thought it best to tell me the truth about Santa. It was one of the worst days of my life. I cried my eyes out. My mother held me close and told me that believing in Santa when you are growing up is the second most wonderful thing that can happen at Christmas. Second most wonderful? What is the first I asked? It was then that she told me that one day when I grow up and have children of my own, I will then make Santa come alive for them. She was right. That is the absolute best.

The traditions that families create at holidays mean so much as you travel through life. But what about the people who didn't have any of what you and I had? There are so many folks who really don't like the holidays at all. It is painful for them. They think it's all a lot of hooey and over-indulgence. I really believe that it is up to those of us who understand and adore the spirit of whatever holiday you celebrate to pass that along and try to impart some joy. Let's get this hooey and over-indulgence party started!

You can tell these Bah Humbug people from a mile away. They are the first to mention with disdain when the Christmas decorations go on sale in August. They grouse about the gross capitalization aspect of Christmas. They shy away from Secret Santa exchanges at the office and you'll never catch one of them listening to the 24/7 Christmas music station. They came from a different reality and I think it is our responsibility as people who love the holidays to do something about it. This can't be done overnight, but in little, baby-elf steps.

I am going to propose that each of us do one random act of holiday kindness for a Bah Humbugger. It doesn't matter if it's big or small, just start the healing. They hate the holidays because they didn't grow up like we did. They were left out and did without while the world was aglow with Christmas magic. There are lots of great groups out there collecting toys for underprivileged children. It is easy to buy a toy for a child who might not be getting anything. I do that too and so should you if you can. But it's not so easy to hand out a sweet dose of Christmas Spirit to someone who is a sourpuss because it's December. Find someone who wears being a Bah Humbugger like a badge of honor and wear them down with a kind offering. A small gift, something you baked, a bone for their dog, an invitation to dinner... anything that sends the warmth of holiday cheer.

Ok, I will let you go now. There's a lot to do this week. Get those cookies baked, packages wrapped and enjoy this amazing season. And in all the last minute madness, please find the time show some love to someone with a case of the Bah Humbugs.

Drops Of Wisdom

It has been raining in Los Angeles for a few days and it is wonderful. We needed it so much; we're having a serious drought here in California, if you haven't heard. I am so happy when it's raining. Of course it's best to be at home with not a lot to do except listen the patter of the droplets hitting the roof, but even if I have to navigate the outside world and wear waterproof gear, I still love it.

The rain means so many things to so many people. If you have ever been to the Pacific Northwest, all those people ever want to talk about is the rain. Too much of a good thing, I guess. Folks from Oregon and Washington are fixated on the last day they got sunshine. Yet their air is clean and everything around them is green and beautiful. I think that rain is so soothing and refreshing. I sleep the best when it's raining.

Here in Southern California, there are so many people who moved here to get away from bad weather, they just don't see the romance that sprinkles can bring. These same folks are obsessed with the weather reports and can't wait to tell anyone who will listen that rain is coming like it's some horrible monster that is coming to invade the planet.

Think of all the songs that talk about rain. Precipitation has captured the imagination of songwriters for ages. Whether the song is comparing raindrops to teardrops or talking about rain as a backdrop to a romantic moment, the rain coming down is powerful and emotional.

I think there are two kinds of people. The rain haters who find the whole experience a nuisance. Rain to them is annoying. They avoid getting wet at all costs and have an umbrella at the ready if there is even the slightest whisper about rain in the weather forecast. Then there's the rain lovers like yours truly. The prediction of rain conjures up visions of Gene Kelly dancing and makes me start thinking about making some good soup. Some well-known person who's name escapes me... I think it might be Longfellow or maybe Bob Marley who once said "some people walk in the rain, others just get wet." Amen! That's what I'm talking about...

Rain makes me smile and go to a happy place, but I completely understand feeling the other way. I remember a time when my kids were growing up that our roof was on its last legs. We didn't have the money to replace it. Every threat of rain required my husband and I to get on a ladder and put these bright blue tarps on the "iffy" sections of our roof, most of which were completely visible from the street. We would place bricks at the edges to keep the tarps in place. Aesthetically it was awful, but it was all we could do. Every time we had to put up the blue "roof condoms", as I affectionately called them, I felt sorry for my neighbors. During one particularly brutal rain storm, we were all sitting at the dinner table when suddenly the wind blew hard and the next thing we knew water came gushing out of the ceiling light fixture 10 feet away like an upside-down geyser. The kids thought it was thrilling. The very next day, we went to the bank and borrowed the money for a new roof. But even then, I still loved the rain... just not in my living room.

I know some of my readers who aren't mad for rain are thinking that I am crazy. Others of you may be certain of it at this point. You can write to me and tell me all the reasons that rain is awful. I can take it! On this subject it impossible to rain on my parade. Sorry, I couldn't resist. No matter what you say about the rain, I am telling you right up front that you will lose.

Sure, people drive stupid when the streets are wet, but chances are they drive stupid in all weather. Just be extra careful. I admit that it's hard for a girl to keep a decent hairdo going when it's raining. Coiffures go limp, curly hair goes crazy frizzy and when my baby fine blond hair gets rained on, I look like a bald-headed woman. I understand that the ground gets muddy and that it's hard to get to your parked car when the water is up to the curb. And yes, it always seems to rain the day after you get your car washed. So, go back and get a rain check (hence the name). Rain is not always convenient, but life isn't always convenient either. So, after all the reasons I have mentioned, why will you never convince me that rain is anything but wondrous?

Rainbows, my darlings... rainbows.