Confessions of a Grandma

The wreath is on my door.  Note the absence of snow here.  A day can make a big difference.  When I woke up this morning, I thought maybe the predictions were all wrong.  There was an icy glaze on the ground, but not much else.  By the time my coffee was brewed, the snow was falling in earnest.  Honestly, I thought is was "too cold to snow" but I was wrong. It is pretty, but I hope the roads are not too treacherous.  Mike would have built a fire and settled in for the day.  I will not bother with the fire but get out my long johns and I still plan to make my way to my sister's for a family dinner.  He was the smart one, but I am intrepid. The presents are all wrapped and ready to go under various trees of family nearby.  Some will be mailed to family far away. I was inspired this morning by Betsy and her post about The Twelve Days of Christmas .  It is too late this year, but I want to add this idea to a new way of...

My daughter met me with the two kids on Friday night in Middlebury--a half way point between our houses.  I took them all out for pizza and then just Dane and I made the trip back to Jericho. My grand daughter, twelve now and in the seventh grade, has decided it is more important to be at the school dance in the presence of cute boys than to spend time with her old granny! Dane was happy to have my undivided attention for the weekend though. Thinking of a post that GigiHawaii  wrote a couple of weeks ago, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up.  His answer: designer of computer games. He has not given up on teaching me how to play a game either. He is quite the little mathematician.  "Grandma, you are 30 plus 35.  My mom is 40 so you were...um...25 when she was born."  "I have $202 dollars.  That is 20,200 cents.  Do you still have 30 dollars?  How much cents is that?"  When I said 300, oh wait, that's not right, he...

Christmas morning... And grandpa watches in wonder...

I like to visit the History.com site now and again.  Today I was wondering about the history of Christmas trees.  I had long been aware that there were numerous connections with pre-Christian cultural practices, but I wanted a refresher on some of those practices and the purpose behind them. Well, lo and behold!  I learned something that was entirely new to me.  Christmas as we know it today was banned in Boston, as they say.  I guess it makes sense although for some reason I had never heard this before.  It seems that the Puritans so prevalent in New England felt quite strongly that heathen acts such as singing carols, decorating trees, or basically any kind of "joyful expression" of the season served only to make a mockery of a sacred event.  Church attendance was the only acceptable way to mark the day.  Anything else was subject to a fine.  I read about it here . We are not putting up a tree this year.  It's not a statement about ...

We had a beautiful Christmas.  First, there was time with family.  My son and I took the ride to my daughter's to deliver presents and hug the grand children--three months worth.  The ride home was like the perfect white Christmas with the sparkling snow and the houses all lit up along the way.  Mike and I had a lovely Christmas Eve dinner.  My son stopped in on Christmas Day and then we went for dessert at my nephew's house.  I went to bed with a feeling of well-being and contentment. Now, it's packing up and getting ready for the trip south.  Looks like we will have to work around a pretty big storm!  Be back in a week or so.

That was the extent of my phone conversation with grandson, Dane, today.  The excitement was electric, popping off the wires.  My Christmas is amazing and it is not even here yet. And in contrast , I have just returned from a funeral.  There was heart wrenching grieving, but, at the same time, there was the awareness of the fullness my Uncle Bill's life.  The service was a beautiful tribute to a life well lived. When my mother died five years ago my grand daughter--four years old at the time--asked why people were smiling and laughing when someone had died.  It was my Aunt Jule (Uncle Bill's wife of 63 years) who explained to her that it was the good memories that prompted the smiles and laughter.  My Aunt Jule passed out Hungarian kolache (sweet nut bread) at the dinner after the services.  "Have this for your Christmas breakfast." And in contrast , I am deeply worried for my son and my son-in-law, who are both experiencing periods o...