Red and Green by Liz Flaherty

Mom at 12. 

I was thinking of my mom this morning. She's been gone since 1982, but I still think of her every day. Most of us do that, don't we, even if the relationships weren't ideal. I think of my mother-in-law, too, who left us in 2016. I miss them both. 

But, this morning it was my mom who settled into my thoughts. I was thinking that here it was December 20th and we've only received a few Christmas cards. And I haven't sent any. Not one. 

Mom, who lived through the Great Depression and World War II and a few other wars, was not a lover of Christmas. She and Dad lost a child, 3-year-old Christine Ann, on December 21, 1941, and the season was never the same for either of them again. 

We were poor, and Mom was astonishingly frugal. Except that she had a long Christmas card list. Well, long to me. I imagine it was around 50 people. She would buy the bargain boxes of cards, probably after Christmas, and I'm not sure when she'd start filling out the envelopes, but it was likely Thanksgiving weekend, although the cards didn't go out until at least the 10th of December. 

Because she wrote a note in every one. Every single card. In either green or red ink. I don't know what she wrote, but it usually took up at least a full page of the lined paper she used for letters. She probably wrote on the back, too, because, you know...waste. I don't know how often she bought stamps through the year to make sure she had enough. She also put Boys Town Seals and Red Cross Christmas Seals on each envelope. She sent them each a $1.00 donation. At Easter, she sent Red Cross another $1.00 for Easter Seals. 

I still have a soft spot for the Red Cross. 

She got cards from almost everyone she sent to. If she got one from someone she hadn't sent to, she hurried to send one out to them the next day. She would sit in her chair with the mail in her lap and open each and every one with a letter opener. She'd read the note and laugh, shake her head in disappointment when there was no note included, and go through the stack that sat beside her. I think she looked at all of them every day. She loved the pretty ones, the expensive ones, but she never bought them. Ever.

I'll get mine sent soon--nowhere near as many as I used to send. I'm not doing a letter this year, because I don't have the heart for it, but I have a Christmassy notepad I'll write notes on. Thinking of the people I'm writing to, praying for some of them. Thinking of Mom and the red and green ink.

It's been a year, hasn't it? Not for everyone, and I'm glad for the ones for whom it has landed gently, but for some of us...for me...it's been hard. 

But here I am. I have a beautiful granddaughter getting married this weekend to the man she loves. Most of my kids and grandkids are here or will soon be in the same place. Noisy and funny and...well, noisy. The guy in the other recliner and I have full hearts. 

My mom's life wasn't easy--I'm sure I couldn't face her losses and challenges with as much grace as she did--but she still sent her cards and wrote her notes of cheer and affection in red and green ink. Whether she felt like it or not.

Because of her, because of these blessed memories, and this weekend's full heart, I can do no less. 

Merry Christmas!

Celebrate the Music of Christmas by Joan Reeves

It's nearly Christmas, and I've had a lot of happy days decorating, watching Christmas movies, and singing along to Christmas music.

I especially love the music of Christmas—carols old and new as well as the rock and pop Christmas songs.

MUSIC OF CHRISTMAS

A few years ago I bought a couple of books aboout the stories behind the best-loved Christmas songs. These two books are delightful and tell the history of the stories. I put them out every Christmas for guests to peruse.

Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas by Ace Collins, a Christy award winning author, comes in Kindle, Audio, Hardback, and Paperback.It tells the stories behind all the Christmas songs you learned as a child from Jingle Bells to Silent Night. 

"Each song in its own way expresses a facet of God’s heart and celebrates the birth of his greatest gift to the world—Jesus."

This is truly a wonderful book, and so is the sequel to it, also by Ace Collins, More Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas.

This book with the origins of 31 famous Christmas songs from Handel's Hallelujah Chorus to Auld Lang Syne also comes in Kindle, Audio, Hardback, and Paperback. and reveals the history of 

I love Christmas music so much that I used one of the most popular songs of the season as the premise of a book.

LAST CHRISTMAS

"LAST CHRISTMAS, a heartwarming and steamy small town romance that will have you laughing, crying, and falling in love all over again!"

As the song goes, Last Christmas she gave him her heart.

He gave it away, or as Annabelle thinks, he stomped on it.

This Christmas they meet again, and she decides to make him pay for breaking her heart.

This tale of heartbreak, revenge, second chances, and redemption is on sale for 99¢ until after New Year's Day.

Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you find Joy and Happiness and spread love and good cheer wherever you go. See you next year!

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Christmastime is Here by Bea Tifton

Christmas is almost upon us. I haven’t gotten anything done. It’s one of those years when it just crept up on me. It’s going to be scaled down, anyway, for a variety of reasons. But I will find time for decorating, gift wrapping, and Christmas light viewing.

Christmas was easy as a kid. We actually got to do Christmas things at school, singing Christmas songs, doing Christmas art projects, and having the annual party. And as soon as the Sears Wishbook came out, it was time to circle, hint, and hope.

My most distinct memory came on a late December afternoon when I was about five. I had been firmly indoctrinated into the “He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake” camp, and one day I was playing in our living room when I saw a small bearded face look into the window. I ran to my mother and yelled, “I just saw one of Santa’s elves!” Mom listened politely to the entire recap and said, “Oh, that’s nice,” as she walked calmly to the phone to call the police. The entire neighborhood had been abuzz about a peeping Tom and I’d just had a sighting.

As a teacher, I was fortunate to teach just as the tide was turning on holidays and letting children do something enjoyable once in a while. Now the poor teachers have to do so much test prep most of them are forbidden to take time for anything considered to be frivolous time wasters. Poor kids. But we would do art projects, learn about holiday customs around the world, and read Christmas and Hanukah stories. One church coordinated an angel program with the district in which I taught and I always participated in that, running the presents to the parents after we got loose on the last day of school before the break. The organizers were smart enough to make sure the teachers were assigned a family from another school. I loved how excited my students got about bringing the money and I always let them view the presents before I wrapped them. It was a low wealth school but the parents were so generous with what they could spare.

Even though Christmas is different as an adult, it can still be fun and meaningful. But if I see one of Santa’s elves peeking at me through the window, I’m calling the cops.

Whatever you celebrate, I hope your holiday is peaceful and memorable for all the right reasons.

Photo Credits:
Wikimedia Commons- Karen Arnold "December 25 Calendar Sheet"
Pexels.com
Vo Van Tien "Young Girl Enjoying Christmas Indoors in Hoi An"
Boris Hamer "Child Writing Letter to Santa"
Gary Spears "Close-Up of Christmas Decoration Hanging on Tree" 

Kristin Vogt "Women's Zip Up Hooded Jacket"

The New Matlock- Sherri Easley

Between my ADHD and my many craft and writing projects, I don’t have much time to watch television. Occasionally, when I am worn out or tired, which has been more since I broke my arm, I have indulged a bit more.  

One of my new favorite shows is the New Matlock- starring Kathy Bates. Ms Bates is an exceptional actress who portrays retired lawyer Madeline Kingston returns to practice seeking justice for the death of her daughter Ellie in the opioid epidemic.

Kingston gets a job, using the alias of needy widow Matty Matlock, at the law firm she believes hid evidence that could have saved her daughter's life. To gain the firm's trust, she must first apply her intellect to help her colleagues with other challenging cases. In true historical Matlock form, cases magically seem to solve themselves.

The elderly attorney is cheered on by her grandson she is now raising and her husband as she seeks a mother’s revenge.

The best part of the show is that Bates uses the fact in life that many women become invisible as they age. In addition, she is wicked smart and always one step ahead of all the cast. Most of all, she uses her grandmotherly southern charm to get her way.

The genius of the show is that many of us women of a certain age feel invisible. I know I often do but now we can follow the premise of the show to use Bate’s wily tactics to our advantage.

If you have time to watch TV over the holidays, check out Matlock. 

MY FAVORITE TIME

By Caroline Clemmons

 

We have entered my favorite time of year—the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. There seems to me more smiling people, more anticipation, more happiness. Oh, maybe that’s just me. <g>

The Christmas season brings wonderful memories for me. I love selecting gifts for family and friends. As I’ve grown older and our family decreased, we have a much smaller number of gifts to choose.

When I was younger, I made special ornaments to go on the package of children’s presents we mailed. Bows get smashed. I can only remember a few: a hand puppet—cowgirls for girls and cowboys for boys; a five-inch Christmas stocking ornament; and a felt stick horse with a candy cane as stick with the crook in the horse’s head.

In addition, I deliberated over the selection of wrapping paper so that all the gifts coordinated for each family. I don’t remember why this seemed important. Well, it did look lovely.

Times and I have changed. Now a gift bag is easy, with a few sheets of tissue stuffed in over the gift. We no longer mail any gifts, which makes me kind of sad. All the nieces and nephews are grown and the extended family adults no longer exchange gifts.

Another thing I miss is making up ten or twelve plates of cookies and candy and a small loaf of zucchini bread to deliver to friends and neighbors on December 23rd. Lately, I intend to prepare the goodies but never get them made.

That reminds me of a funny story. The middle of December, I made large batches at a time of various cookies and froze them in Tupperware containers. One year I took the containers of chocolate chip cookies from the freezer. When I opened them, one was empty. My Hero stood near me looking sheepish.

He said, “You know, you’d be surprised how fast those cookies thaw in the microwave.”

Happy Holidays!

Fall Vibes Only by Laura Hunsaker

 Today at work we changed out the Thanksgiving/Fall decorations for Winter/Holiday decorations, and I have to admit, it made me sad. Even my neighbors have put their decorations up earlier this year.

I don't think I'm ready for winter yet! In fact where I am, we've barely had our autumn, let alone winter weather. So I decided to keep up my fall decorations. At least for the next few days.

It made me wonder why I love fall so much when I'm really a summer girl at heart. I really think it's less that I love fall (although pumpkin spice everything is my jam), and more that I love the break in weather, and the last slow days before the crazy busyness of the holiday season starts. I'm enjoying the nice weather, I'm enjoying not having to be everything everywhere all at once. I'm enjoying the last of this year. I'm not quite ready for the end of the year yet. 

So for now, today, it's still fall for me, and my desk. At least until Fall becomes Fall-la-la-la time.

What is your view? Are you ready for the Winter holidays? Or are you dragging your feet and in denial like I am?

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Kate Landry is soon to be Kate Donovan, if only the groom would show up.


Maid of honor Cara Nguyen wants everything to go smoothly for her best friend's wedding, yet almost immediately, the wedding turns into a fiasco. Kate and Kyle deserve to have the wedding of their dreams, and Cara wants to make it happen. It’s hard to do when the flowers are delivered to the wrong location, the groom is missing, and the lovely sunny day has become a sweltering hot mess. She definitely doesn’t have time to get distracted by a sexy groomsman in a kilt.


Kyle Donovan is ready to marry the love of his life, but first he has to help some stranded guests…


Dash Helms is in the small town of Chester, California for his friend Kyle’s wedding, when he is immediately tasked to help. A caravan of wedding guests break down on their way, one of the groomsmen misses his flight, and the beautiful maid of honor is the only thing he can concentrate on. When Dash is asked to step in at the last minute as a replacement groomsman, of course he says yes. But the striking brunette he’s walking down the aisle wants nothing to do with him.


With everything seeming to go wrong, what can go right?


In this wedding short story written for Kate and Kyle from Dark Past, the cast of the Fatal Instincts series comes together to celebrate their friends. With everyone in the same place at once, and romance in the air, can this small town handle them?

Someone to Hold Your Coat by Liz Flaherty

John Steinbeck wrote a book called The Winter of Our Discontent. In all honesty, I don't think I read it. Steinbeck's writing voice depressed me. I put him and Hemingway and a few others all onto one library shelf of the mind I never approached--it's probably very dusty. Because, although I have always been an avid reader, I have always read purely for entertainment. I am a lightweight. 

But I'm digressing already. Didn't take me long, did it? I brought up the title of Steinbeck's book because that's where I am. Quite seriously, I thought I'd left this kind of angst behind in my teenage years, way, WAY back in the last century. 

I don't want to overdo politics here, other than to say they are the reason I'm where I am. I have never particularly feared being old or even dying--well, being dead; dying might not be fun--and yet now I'm resentful of the next four years of my life being taken up with feeling like I do now. 

Silenced. 

But last night, we had a writers' group meeting. The Black Dog Writers have been around for five years or so, maybe a little more. We meet on the third Tuesday of each month. We share things we've written, indulge in a little cathartic conversation--or a lot--and ... we care about each other. We encourage, we worry, we offer rides, we laugh a bunch. 

We hear each other's voices. Not just what we're saying, but the nuances that slip in between the beginnings and the ends of sentences. 

What several of us read last night had pain splintering between the lines. We had wet eyes sometimes, grieving with one, high-fiving others on stories well told, getting lost in poetry--read that stanza again!

What I read was strictly a free-writing stream of angry consciousness begun at 2:26 PM for a 5:00 meeting. It was inspired by a picture of a house Valerie shared. I read it to my husband and while he liked it okay, I think he worried about me offending people in the group.

My sister used to say that if the guys in her nine-student graduating class had decided they were going to rob a bank, she and the other girls would have held their coats. 

None of us robbed any banks last night, but our friends did indeed hold our coats. I am so grateful.

All of our meetings aren't exercises in catharsis. Sometimes our writing isn't what we wish it was. We don't all always have something to say. But sometimes, it's a couple of hours of gold. Especially when we need that gold. When we are worried ... or silenced ... or unable to find hope in our sad places. 

I hope it gets better for those of us in the same place of discontent. I hope we don't give up, that we don't remain silent, that we remember we have stories to tell and people to care about.

Have a great Thanksgiving. Wishing you happy.