Merry Christmas

We had a little Christmas Eve get-together at my youngest daughter Kim's last night. It was wonderful...and wierd.

I don't remember much about last year's celebration...the shock had pretty much enveloped me on Thanksgiving Day and remained for months. This year was...well...interesting.

Linda, who felt fine at the beginning of the evening, developed a headache and left before Santa arrived taking her husband and mom with her. I will refrain from comment.

Santa was hysterical...had a couple of pops before handing out the gifts. The beard was slightly crooked making it look like he was talking out the side of his mouth. The kids didn't care. They were just having too much fun.

It is still odd for me to celebrate holidays without Mike. I remember the year we promised ourselves that we wouldn't go nuts buying stuff for the kids. We ended up buying bikes for every kid and an Atari system (yeah...pretty outdated by today's standards). That year, we spent more money than most years combined. This year, I bought myself a new journal, a fuzzy pair of socks and silk pajamas. I'm thinking today would be a good day to spend in bed.

Motorcycles

It's December...and it's cold...so I don't understand why anyone would drive a motorcycle in this weather.

Mike drove one whenever the mood struck him, but usually not in the cold. He said he didn't ride enough and that "next summer" he would ride more. sigh. Anyways, I was pumping gas yesterday and the guy at the next pump was filling the tank of his bike. I mentioned that it must be a pretty cold ride and he said "yeah, but I love it." Then he got on, started up, and drove off. And I cried. Oh the sound.

I remember when Mike bought his bike. It was a brand new Honda 1300, low-ride, with nice quiet pipes. Looked like a Harley...but sounded like a Honda. The first thing he did was buy new pipes...no baffles. $1000 for noise. I hated those things.

One nice summer day, I was riding behind a couple of Harley's. I really liked the way they sounded, so I called Mike and when he answered, I stuck my phone out the window. I told him..."now that's what a REAL bike sounds like." By the following week, the pipes with no baffles were replaced...and now the bike sounded just like the Harley's that were in front of me that day.

Like everything else, he was so proud of his bike. He had the tank custom painted by a friend. It looked pretty good, but I tended to be indifferent. It's a bike after all.

So, why do I find myself crying at a gas station?

Bright Nights

I took a ride earlier this evening with Meg, Gianna and Meg's girlfriend Cassie. We drove over to Forest Park to see the Bright Nights Display. It was unbelievable.

This picture is taken from their website...the Barney Mansion.

There was a $15 charge per carload to get in, but it is miles of Christmas lights...and as usual, it made me think of Mike.

Mike was a proud man. His work was like art. Everything was perfect...nothing got by him. There was perfection in everything he did. Mike worked as a maintenance supervisor for 5 housing units. He consistently made high grades for HUD inspections, and he would even sometimes amaze himself with the things that he was able to accomplish. He once told his boss, Andrea, that he could do anything...and I believed him. So did she.

So, on this trip through Forest Park, I started to think about the people who were responsible for this spectacular display. I hope they are as proud as Mike was of his job. I wonder if they bring their families through and point out all the little things that we take for granted on our little car ride through wonderland.

I'll bet they do. Everyone...from the designers to the folks who maintain the displays...and everyone in between and on the fringes (including the police who stand outside the gates on these cold evenings) should be extremely proud. I like to think that they tell their families and friends all about what they did, how they solved the little problems, and how they manage year after year to pull this whole thing together for their community.

My hat is off to all of them.

Tis the Season

December 21 is the solstice. It is also the full moon. Oh...and a lunar eclipse. I hear a lunar eclipse is emotional...hahahaha. Like I haven't been friggin emotional enough all year.

So, I guess with all of these things happening at the same time, it should be an emotional energy cocktail.

The best time to view this eclipse is tonight around 3:15 a.m. I'm pretty sure I will be sleeping...or maybe my emotions will get the best of me...and I'll be up.

ah...who knows.

For Sale

My house is on the market. Funny thing is...I'm still not sure about this.

I love this house. It has provided well for our family...kids, foster kids, grandkids, sisters, nieces, nephews, and anyone else who needed a place to stay. It has seen lots of love and happiness as well as deep sadness and grief. It has given us a decent income (at least when not used by family).

So, the real estate agent came yesterday and put the For Sale sign in the front yard. It's kind of unnerving to see it when I pull onto our street.

O' Christmas Tree

I was thinking about getting a little pre-lit Christmas tree for the holiday. Wasn't exactly feeling all happy and ho-ho-ho about decorating. Then my youngest daughter bought me a live Christmas tree yesterday. It's a little one...maybe 5 feet tall.

So, off I go to get the decorations only to realize that I gave most of them away to the kids. I found 3 working strings of lights, some beaded garland and a few ornaments with a little angel for the top. It's kind of forlorn and barren...a sad little tree trying to sparkle for the holiday. I guess it's a perfect little tree for me after all.

Old Houses

I love old houses...from the little cottages to the big victorians. Mine is an old house. It was built around the 1900's in Victorian style. It's a 2-family house with an additional 4 rooms and bath on the 3rd floor. Lots of natural woodwork, built-ins, and pine floors.

Unfortunately it also has old drafty windows (in New England), an old brick foundation, a slate roof, and very little insulation.

It's too much for me. I give up. With one son living 3 hours away and the other one dealing with some pretty serious personal issues, I just can't maintain this old place. It has served our family well, but it's time to turn it over to people who can care for it. I've already sunk so much money into it, and there's still so much more to do. And I don't even want to think about the maintenance and expense required in the winter.

So, yesterday I called the realtor who sold me the condo. I have a plan for myself, but I am sad. It's a terrible time to have a house on the market...the combination of winter and the economy is going to make it tough. I'm just hoping someone will see this place for what the possibilities are.