Dreamboat Annie

Heading out this morning into the sun... 

Most likely not every family has a cow for a pet. But we do. It wasn’t a planned endeavor but when a mother cow died after giving birth, we found we had an orphaned calf to raise and care for. I should clarify that there really isn’t a lot of ‘we’ to this story. I didn’t do much at all. The care and the duties of Mother Cow fell to my husband, Alan, and Ray, a family friend. Being the creative souls they are, and because she was an orphan, the pair named the little calf Annie.

Little Orphan Annie...

Annie was spoiled from the beginning. She had to be bottle fed, of course, so Alan would feed her and talk to her two or three times a day. If he was tied up for some reason, Ray would come out and give her a bottle. Besides the food, Annie got a lot of personal attention from both, in the form of petting and chatting. Annie hung out with the chickens and played with the sheep. She had the whole place to herself and explored freely. One of her favorite places to sleep was in the chicken house. I think she really just thought she was another hen. She’d back in and barely fit, but that was where she wanted to be.

Where's Annie?

Annie and her ear bling

I came home one day and Annie was a ways down from the gate in the middle of the road to the house. I drove up slowly hoping she would move. She just stared at me. I honked my horn and she still didn’t move. The stare was becoming a glare. Suddenly she turned, kicked up her heels and galloped a little way down the road. Then she stopped. We had to play the whole game again. After the fourth or fifth time I wasn’t having fun anymore!

You talking to me???

Annie and I weren’t friends. I don’t think she liked me for some reason. Maybe it was the honking horn; I don’t really know. I’d call her and she’d ignore me. She was at the edge of the driveway when I parked one afternoon. I got out, called her and she just stared. I moved towards her and she moved back. I returned to my previous position and she resumed hers. It was like a bovine waltz with one step forward two steps back. I gave up. Annie walked away and mooed. Then she kicked up her heels and bolted off.

She looks so innocent.

Although I don’t know the ratio of cow years to human years, I’m pretty sure that Annie was a teenager. She acted like one anyway. One day she was a nice docile cow and the next she wasn’t. Sometimes she was really naughty! She ate all the chicken’s food and made herself sick. She’d hide and no matter how much Alan or Ray would call she wouldn’t come. She’d get mad, too, and sulk. When she got her ear tag she wouldn’t look at or acknowledge Alan because he was the meanie who stuck her with that thing. She didn’t even care that she had the best tag ever because it was blinged out! Sometimes she’d nose around and get into things, like the trash barrel. She’d knock stuff over and scatter garbage around and leave her calling card of a nice big pile of poop. That’s what cows do.

Nosy old cow...

I was skeptical and really didn’t believe it would happen but the day came when Annie had to go live with the other cows at the ranch. Not only did she have to leave but she had to get branded as well. It was by the luck of the draw Ray got the privilege. You can imagine Annie’s reaction to a hot branding iron!

Annie knows how to snub...

After her first night away from home we decided to check on her to see how she was adjusting to her new digs. We arrived at the location of her new home and looked around. There were other cows, calves and even a bull around, but no strawberry blonde named Annie. So we drove. And we drove some more. We called and looked but alas, no Annie. Was she hiding because of the outrage she’d suffered at the upheaval from her loving home? Was it the anger over the indignity of receiving a brand? Or was the poor silly thing just lost in her new surroundings? Searching unsuccessfully until dusk, we returned home.

Annie, Dreamboat Annie

The next morning, early, Alan headed out again. Just to check. After all, it was a new place and Annie might not know where the water was if she got lost. I didn’t go. When he came in, a little before noon, it was with the good news that Annie was with the other cows, doing whatever it is that cows do all day. And she was still her flighty cow-self. She’d come when he called her but she snubbed Ray. After all, he was the one with the branding iron!

No one knows the lonely one whose head's in the clouds… 

For something different I’m working on a project called kumihimo. It’s a form of weaving and the end product is a cord. It looks complicated but it’s really simple.

The bobbins holding the different threads

The threads on the disk

The woven cord.

Did you ever make one of those vinyl woven key chains when you were young? It’s the same thing but instead of holding it in your hands it’s on the round disk. Of course there is a lot more you can do if you really get into it but I’m just doing a simple 8 strand cord. I’ll put a pendant on it when I’m finished. It’s really kind of relaxing after you get going!

Oh, Annie,
Dreamboat Annie, my little ship of dreams...

Shut up and Drive

I've been looking for a driver who's qualified,
So if you think that you're the one…

traf•fic (tr f k) noun 

a. The passage of people or vehicles along routes of transportation.
b. Vehicles or pedestrians in transit: heavy traffic on the turnpike; stopped oncoming traffic to let the children cross. 

For the most part, traffic, out here where I live meant waiting for three vehicles to pass before attempting a left turn. But that was before the ‘boom’. Now, travel is a living nightmare.

The usual traffic out my bug splattered windshield. In the good old days!

According to the United States Census, between July 1, 2011 and July 1, 2012, Midland and Odessa placed first and fifth respectively on the Census’ list of fastest growing metro areas in the country by percent increase. The oil fields (source of the boom) offer generous pay, leaving other businesses scrambling for workers because they aren’t able to match the wages and/or benefits. Housing as expensive as New York City’s has become the norm in the area. That is, if one can find housing. And traffic has increased and placed a strain on roads and highways. Statistics show vehicle crashes are up 40%, with fatalities up 58 %. All the while the growth continues.

Another view. Not much traffic now but it gets hairy.

I’m fortunate that I don’t live in either of these cities. I live in a small town south of Odessa. However, like many, I commute to the city for work. My office is located between the two municipalities, which are rapidly becoming joined, at the airport complex. There are approximately four ways to get there from my house, and all but one includes a stretch on a road heavily traveled by trucks. There are two routes I would take to reach the interstate or other highway to get to that road. One is a narrow, two lane oilfield road and the other is a four lane highway. I choose the four lane. It’s fairly decent until I reach the…Abyss.

The Abyss, as I’ve callously termed this hellish stretch of highway, is a daily challenge at its best. In this Abyss, traffic signs have no meaning. Residents of the area regard them as decorations, disregarding any significance they may have. The octagonal red sign embellishes most intersections to the highway. In some places the ornament lays on the ground instead of standing upright.

Besides the customary white lines most highways are adorned with, this stretch has the added attraction of dark skid marks sideways to both shoulders. Guardrails or posts with heavy wire strung between indicating no crossing are broken and mangled.
Residents in this area have no idea of physics. I never took physics in school but I do have a concept of force. Whenever two things interact, a pair of forces is always involved. Therefore, pulling an almost inanimate object (resident’s car) into the path of a vehicle moving at the least, 75 miles per hour, could create a problem. Like death. Similarly, coming upon a vehicle, such as an 18-wheeler, who did pull out at an appropriate time but hasn’t made it up to highway speed, and not changing lanes or decelerating causes the same trauma.

Math story problems were also overlooked in this region. Nobody had the privilege of experiencing such annoyances as: If you drive 40 mph instead of 30 mph, you save 30 seconds per mile, but if you make the same 10 mph increase from 70 mph to 80 mph, you only save 5.6 seconds per mile. Why? Moral, that number on the speed limit sign actually means something.

I often wish law enforcement had a more definite presence on this section of the daily route. However it would take a policeman at each intersection and there’s not enough man power. Besides, I don’t know if they’ve developed a fine structure for ignorance.
In the meantime I’ve adjusted my route, trying to avoid the most heinous areas. I’m on alert, braking, slowing, avoiding, every mile of the way. To say it’s stressful is a misnomer. But it looks like, if anything, it’s going to become worse before it becomes better. So I’ll don my crash helmet, have my new car customized with roll bars and count down until I no longer have to make the trip during the peak hours. Someday.

Now shut up and drive.
Drive, drive, drive.

It was my lucky week! Actually these came during the spring break week but I was gone so got to celebrate them this week. First is a lovely Scentsy pot I won. It came with two kinds of scent bars to go inside. It’s smelling better here by the minute!

My new Scentsy pot and bars!

Next is a cute little girl I named Pinelope.

Pinelope.

She’s created by my knitting friend, Pat! Her note said she didn’t know if she (Pinelope) would hold my double points but her main duty was to make me smile! Pinelope did her duty! Thank you Pat!

Pinelope with double points. Reminds me of a voodoo baby!

Shut up and drive.
Drive, drive, drive.

Whoever You Are

Whoever you are, 
 I hope you don't have to travel far… 

It’s interesting how kids simply say what they feel or tell it like they see it. Sometimes they speak about things you don’t want to know and sometimes it’s just to figure out a situation. That’s what happened the other day.

It was spring break and a trip was planned to Utah, hopefully to meet the newest grandson. The littles were on spring break too so we decided to take the boys if they wanted to come. The minute we asked, the youngest started packing!

We had an additional passenger as well. One of the men working for my husband has a daughter in Colorado who is very sick and in intensive care. He’s out there and since it’s on the way to Utah, he asked if his friend could hitch a ride with us. We had room so it was no problem at all.

It was dawn, the truck was loaded and we headed off. First stop was to get the boys. We went in, they inspected our guest, and I told them Miss Dorothy was coming with us. All seemed fine, and we bundled into the truck again and set off on the journey.

Ready to go!

We rode along for miles, gazing at the mostly non-existent scenery when Caleb asked, “Mamye where did you find Dorothy? Where’d you get her?” We all laughed and I told him we were taking her to meet her friend. That seemed to satisfy his curiosity and he went back to his games.

It was McDonald’s for lunch, because it was quick, there was a place to park the truck with the trailer attached and there was a playground to let two little boys blow off some steam. After their romp we stuffed ourselves back into the truck for many more hours of travel.

Not long after, Caleb looked over at Dorothy and said, “Who invited you?” Again we laughed, because he wasn’t being rude. He was only trying to figure out who this lady was that he’d never seen or heard of before, in the truck beside him.

More than halfway to our destination and weary from the ride, we stopped for the night at a local hotel. The hours passed too quickly and we happened off again. We were meeting Dorothy’s friend then continuing on to Utah. About an hour later we arrived at the designated meeting place. Suitcases were switched and Dorothy went with her friend. Caleb leaned over to me and said, “Aw, she’s gone. I liked her!”

Out the windshield...to Utah

It was interesting how he’d gone the full circle. After he figured out, from as much information as he had, that Dorothy was okay, he liked her and was sad when she was no longer with us on the trip. His honesty and acceptance was refreshing. She’ll remember the trip and that little boy, whoever you are.

Boys acting silly.

As I ride down that long lonely highway without you,
I can't keep myself from wondering about you...

Finally! Baby George made his appearance. And if I may say so myself, he’s perfect! He has dark, silky hair, and he’s a sturdy baby at 8 pounds, 5 ounces and 21 inches long! I’m sure there will be more about him along the way!

Complete awe.

Fresh from the oven!

Three generations.

Feed me Seymour!

Here’s his blanket, ready for him to come home to. I think I may have enough yarn to add a teddy bear!

George's rainbow.

And for baby George, whoever you are, and wherever you go, I wish great things. I love you sweet baby boy!

My baby boy's sweet baby boy.

And I know heaven is in your smile.
Whoever, whoever you are…

What Goes Around Comes Around

You should know that. 
What goes around comes around, Yeahhh… 

My Mamaw used to say, “What goes around comes around.” (She also said, “If you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all”, which I chose to ignore because I was afraid I’d never be able to utter a word!)

What does it mean? Basically it means that the things you do (to others) will come back to you. It ties into do unto others, we reap what we sow, karma. Apparently, with all the quotes addressing the situation, it used to be more important or at least in more people’s thoughts than today.

In this case it was really a form of bullying. Almost everyone has experienced bullying at one time or another. If you weren’t the bully maybe you were a participant, as an onlooker. And if you weren’t the bully or the observer then you were most likely a victim.

Bullying is a hot topic lately. There are many tragic stories of young people being bullied and the dire actions sometimes taken to end the torment. Sadly, adults are not immune. Bullies exist in the workplace, just as they did throughout the 12 or so years of school. They may not be quite as obvious as they were then, but they are definitely there.

I’m not one to wish ill will on people. However, there are times when I think it’s acceptable to want people to get what’s coming to them. It was pure luck that I was able to witness this first hand. And I enjoyed every second. Do I feel guilty for being happy? Not a bit. Do I feel guilty that a couple of us went out and actually toasted to the event? Well, maybe a little.

Things are back to normal now. Well, it’s better than normal, for me anyway. And hopefully it will stay that way. But the old bullies are replaced by new ones. And I see the fresh victims and know they pretty much just have to grin and bear it. And my heart hurts for them.

Don't wanna talk about it (uh) 
I'm just so sick about it...

I really intended that this year would be different, in blogging anyway. I thought I’d set up a schedule and post more frequently. Alas, life happens and maybe I did heed my Mamaw’s advice. If I don’t have anything to say I don’t say anything at all!

My DS brought me roses for Valentine's Day. Sweet! And the best present of course is our sweet Belle who turned 5 years old!

Red roses for mom!

Belle in her poncho and hat that WE like! ha ha

Getting back in the swing of things is harder than it sounds! And I’ll try to post more often. And knit more often! Here’s a picture of a scarf for a friend. She bought the yarn and asked me to make her something. I don’t usually do that, unless I like you, and I happened to like her and it was a pattern I wanted to try, so it was a win win.

Pretty picture, much better than mine!

I also did some simple little hearts to get into the spirit of Valentines. Somebody liked them so I gave her a strand. Something so simple and she said it really made her day! And who knows? It can always come back around!

Hearts everywhere!

What goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around. 
Yeah.

Old Days

Good times I remember… 

I had a couple of ‘free’ tickets on Southwest that were fixing to expire. These are airline tickets earned with points from other travel. I hated to lose them but I’d let the deadline slip up on me and I didn’t know if I could swing a trip during the block of time I had or not. Besides that, I didn’t have anywhere to go! I thought about it and decided maybe a visit with my sister Judi would be fun. I asked her if she’d be able to get off work if I came over and she said yes. The trip was set.

My airline of choice!

We had no agenda. That meant staying up late and sleeping in. It meant shopping. And it meant eating out at places unknown to me. No pressure. No stress.

Judi contacted some childhood friends and made a date for us to meet them for lunch. We entered the pizza parlor and there they were, looking pretty much like they always looked!

Here we are! Note to self: Don't ever wear white! It makes you look ten pounds heavier!

When we were growing up, we lived on a corner of a ‘T’ intersection. Judy and Jana lived across the street. We spent hours together, playing with troll dolls, skating, and climbing the willow in our front yard. Sometimes we played at our house and sometimes we played at theirs. Jana is the same age as my sister Judi, and Judy is a year or so older than me.

Judy had beautiful, long, shiny, straight hair. That was the fashion back then. She wore it parted down the middle. My hair, on the other hand, was curly. When I tried wearing it long it looked much like Tiny Tim’s hair looked. It wasn’t attractive.

Tiny Tim. I always thought his hair was horrible! And mine looked the same.

Of course, I wanted smooth, vertical hair. Judy and I tried many things to make it straight. She helped me iron it, using a real iron on an ironing board. I guess that was pre flat irons! And it didn’t work. We rolled it on orange juice cans. That made bigger waves than I already had. Plus, it was heck to sleep on! We sprayed it with Knox Unflavored Gelatin. That sounds horrible but really it was probably like a spray gel. It made my hair stiff, but alas, it was still curly.

We were both in constant search of ‘the’ technique that would make my hair straight! One of the most bizarre things we found was for me to sleep with a nylon stocking on my head. Yes, really. I would squeeze it down over my wet hair. My nose was squashed and my eyes were either open for extended periods or closed. It was difficult to blink. It wasn’t comfortable, and there were all kinds of indents pressed into my face upon awakening. One night, as I was preparing this unique costume before I went to bed, my dad came in. He looked at me, shook his head and backed out of the room!

Judy was an expert on the piano. I suppose she took lessons, but I don’t remember for sure. It seemed to me, she could play anything. One song that was especially pretty was “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon and Garfunkel. We had a piano too, but nobody played it. At least not like Judy played. I really wanted to learn that song so she hand copied the entire score. I didn’t realize it then but that was amazing in itself!

We visited as we ate our pizza, caught up and reminisced. It was like the old days, minus the troll dolls! My hair is still curly. Judy’s is still straight. Some things never change. It’s good to have longtime friends with whom you can still talk with, laugh with and remember the good (and a few bad) times!

Time passed too quickly and it was time to return to work, a necessary evil. I packed, including the extra suitcase I had to borrow, tucked away the memories we made, and went to the airport. I was already thinking about the next time we’d be able to spend time together.

Fun days. 
Filled with simple pleasures. 

I finally got the rest of my packages from the FB game sent off. My sweet friend Debi got the scribble lace scarf/shawl.

Scribble Lace. A thick yarn mixed with a thin yarn.

My niece got the drop-stitch eternity scarf. I think they were both pleased! I hope so anyway!

A drop stitch eternity/infinity scarf. She said it matched her hair????

Gold days. 
Days I'll always treasure…

Pancho And Lefty

Living on the road my friend,
Was gonna keep you free and clean...

Maybe that should be 'Poncho' and Lefty!

I overheard this conversation at work the other day:

Fashionista 1: “Well, apparently I’ve never met a poncho I didn’t buy this year. I love them!”

Fashionista 2: “I know! Did you see the one Fashionista 3 had on today? It’s beautiful!”

Enter Fashionista 3, 4 and 5: “Oh”, altogether, reminiscent of high school speak. “I love your poncho!”

Fashionista 4: “I got mine in Austin. They are all the rage this year!”

Isn’t it funny how all the old things become new again? Well, not all things I suppose, but some things, definitely. For instance, it’s just as cool to have an ‘old’ car as it is to have a brand spanking new one. Of course it has to look and act like it did when it was fresh off the showroom floor.

Then there is the cycle of fashion. Take the poncho for instance. They have been around for centuries, and were usually used for warmth or to keep dry. Basically it’s a big piece of cloth with an opening in the middle to allow placing it over the head. The past couple of years, again, a poncho has become a fashion statement. But they aren’t like Clint Eastwood’s. Gone are the heavy, blanket style ponchos of long ago. Now the choices include any number of delicate fabrics and alluring styles. These new wraps can be adapted for all sizes and any situation. And they complement just about everybody.

My first poncho was a not so successful home-ec project. My teacher had us make ponchos out of burlap. Yes, you read correctly. Why? Economics perhaps. I don’t know, but who, (in their right mind) would (or could!) wear a scratchy piece of burlap? I completed (and passed) that assignment then promptly stuck it in the giveaway bag! Maybe that’s why sewing and I never made a perfect pair.

Since then I’ve knitted and crocheted ponchos though. I’ve finished them for gifts and for myself. I made one for Belle, with a matching hat, when she was tiny. Trouble is, I made it really big so she just grew into it at Christmas this year. I think she looks cute as can be in it. I’m not so sure her parents agree!

After witnessing the conversation at work I went home and found one of mine. I wore it the next day and people asked where I got it. That’s always a good sign I think, if they don’t know it’s ‘homemade’.

I don't even know what pattern I used.

It's about 10 years old I think. Warm too!

I also just finished a new one, called a Shoulder Cozy. I like it because it can be worn as a cowl or a small poncho.

I made this out of Red Heart Boutique Magical.

Worn as a cowl. I little thick in back but doable.

So for now I’ll just grab one of my ‘fashion’ ponchos and throw it on with a pair of jeans. Or if I need to dress it up I’ll wear it with nice pants or a skirt. And I’ll be so chic!

I like the yarn and the end result. I'd make another.

This can be worn many ways also. I think it's just a big folded rectangle.

Then in a few months, when they are no longer in style, I’ll put them all back in the closet and keep them there until they are all the rage again!

They only let him hang around 
Out of kindness I suppose.

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

…they keep fallin'...

It’s a glorious day, mainly because it’s raining. The steady patter on the roof is going strong. The air is heavy but fresh with the fragrance of rain, like no other. It smells so good when the door is opened.

The ground is so dry, soaking in the wetness like a sponge, that there isn’t any mud. There will be later but for now the moisture evaporates into the soil, creating a smooth, slick surface.

I grabbed my umbrella even though I was fairly sure I wasn’t going to melt if I got wet. I was worried about my hair because it does get really curly and frizzy if it gets damp. I put on my jacket with the hood and pulled it up.

The lights reflected off the glossy road, creating rainbows in the night. Would there be treasure at the end of each one? Yes. The prize is here. The fortune is the rain.

Rain picture by my friend Rachel Austin.

In my book there’s nothing better than a rainy day! That’s if you don’t have to get out. But I did, although only for a short time. Alan had his shoulder surgery. I took him to the hospital, waited patiently for him to be finished, filled his prescriptions and brought him home for the start of the recuperation. Happily, all went well. He’s in a lot of pain but hopefully the healing process won’t be too long.

'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'

A friend of mine was also waiting for her husband so we chatted and I knitted to pass the time. Mindless knitting, a Gossamer scarf out of some sparkly mohair was on the needles.

Gossamer infinity scarf on Ravelry: http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/gossamer-infinity-scarf

The rain passed and in my opinion didn’t stay long enough at all. Now we’ll just wait til next time.

Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'...

My List

Under an old brass paperweight, my list of things to do today… 

I’m a list maker. That doesn’t mean I always use my lists but I do make them. I write down what I need at the grocery store then promptly leave the list elsewhere. I write down things I have to do at work and cross them off or write them again for the next day. And every year it seems I have the same old resolutions; exercise more, eat less; get more organized, work less. I always have the best intentions, yet my resolve rarely lasts through January, if even that long.

Those things are important, no doubt. But I wonder if some of the little things I let slide, the things not written down, aren’t just as important.

What if I went to bed before midnight and got up a little earlier in the morning? I’d miss some of the horrid traffic on the everyday commute. I’d see the last of the night turn into the brand new morning. I’d get to work on time.

What if I didn’t say, “In a minute,” or “maybe tomorrow” or “not right now” when one of the littles wanted me to do something? I’d have a good time. Whichever one or even all of them would have a good time. I’d make a memory.

What if I saved that almost $5.00 for a coffee drink that usually doesn’t taste right anyway? I’d have money to get new windows. I’d be able to have a date night. I could buy more Christmas presents or I’d have a bonus in case of a rainy day.

What if I just did whatever it is instead of waiting for a better time? Or until I wasn’t so tired? It would be done. I’d be finished. Then I could go on and do something I really wanted to do instead of always something I had to do.

And what if I didn’t eat that piece of candy that I don’t really want anyway? I’d save a few calories which in turn might save a few pounds. I’d feel better and look better and probably become healthier. And I wouldn’t have to go to the dentist as often.

What if instead of waiting until tomorrow I got started today? Just think of the possibilities! I can catch up on all the things I’ve missed. I’ll start living. And that’s a great thing to have on my list.

There's still more than a few things left I haven't got to yet...

The flu bug or something just as dreadful hit our house. This, in fact, is the second time I’ve been a target. I don’t know if it’s really THE flu but whatever it is has power. I’m knocked out and every bit of energy is zapped. Add that to cough, congestion, head and body aches and well, I think I was sick. I’m at the tail end of the cycle, just in time to go back to work. Now Alan is in bed with the same ailments. I couldn’t do much but I did manage to play with yarn. I knitted a couple of infinity scarves and also crocheted some as well, just for a break. I played with Scribble Lace, one of my favorite things to do. It’s quite nice really!

One really thick yarn and one really thin yarn.

Start livin' that's the next thing on my list...

Twinkle Little Christmas Lights

Shining on the tree...

The theme song for December is Christmas and we’re at the last verse. It’s a bit sad for me to see the trees, cast aside on the edge of the road with a bit of tinsel still attached and blowing in the wind, or packed away, branch by numbered branch, in a box to be stored on a shelf until next year. The other decorations, hung with care months ago, are quickly extinguished and removed, stuffed onto shelves in dusty garages and warehouses, waiting for the next season.

A park with a light display. All the pictures are from there.

The opening arch.

The last thing to come down is usually the lights. I adore the lights. Growing up, we never had lights on our house that I remember. But my grandparents did. After many tiring miles of highway, the lights would twinkle a warm welcome to us weary travelers. Grandmother would meet us at the door with her customary, “Christmas Eve Gift” greeting.

A train.

All the presents were wrapped with care...

The lights were standard old time big bulb Christmas lights. Granddaddy climbed a ladder to hang them evenly along the edge of the roof. After the holiday he would climb that same ladder to take them back down. And in between, if a light bulb happened to go out, the ladder was ascended again. But it was imperative for them to come down. It was a big faux pas to leave Christmas lights up all year, even if you lived in the country!

Get the star on top!

A stocking full of goodies!

I’d be content for the lights to stay hung and lit all the time. It makes things seem more cheerful somehow. They disguise ugly buildings and light up bland, lifeless towns. They add a welcome glow to the doors and windows of common people, binding them together, regardless of beliefs, for one round of the hour glass. Lights celebrating Christmas have been a tradition for a long time. Originally candles were fastened to tree branches with a bit of melted wax or later, a candle holder. Eventually it became conventional to use electric lights as decorations, unattached to the tree, outside and inside of homes. Cities and towns, regardless of size, often have a central Christmas tree or at the least hanging decorations lining their streets with a cheerful glow. One of those silly holiday movies I like to watch said that it was a way to welcome home WWII veterans from their tours of duty. I don’t know but it sounds nice.

A nativity scene. This is the only part I could get in but it was complete.

When we go to the mountains we often see lights outlining storefronts and houses, regardless of the time of year, hanging down in a fake icicle configuration and glimmering in the wind. It’s both welcome and welcoming. It’s hard to describe but it just seems to add something.

A sugarplum cottage.

Old man winter? The only snow happening here!

Things change as the years progress. Personalities develop and relationships transform. Gone are the carefree children who played together and loved one another unconditionally. Gone are strong family connections. Gone is the gratitude for the season. The Christmas lights are going out, one at a time, slowly. But surely.

Beautiful arches.

We’ll pack up our decorations in a few days and take down the tree and store the pretty lights. But I think I’ll leave some out this year. I’ll string them across the mantle and leave them on as a welcome, for me. I’ll be reminded of Christmas past and remember the good times. And I’ll have faith for the good to come.

Never seem to shine so bright...

Christmas knitting wasn’t too stressful this year. I have a couple of things left to finish but they weren’t really presents so it doesn’t matter. I did finish a Gaptastic cowl, in a rainbow color, for my daughter-in-law. She liked it I know!

Gaptastic for Jenni.

 

The glow of love is all around us.
So twinkle on Christmas time...