Gift from the Past

I received a strange sort of gift this Christmas Season.

Totally unexpected and out of the blue type of thing.

There came in the mail on Christmas Eve a brown papered wrapped shoe box with my name and address in handwriting that I immediately recognized without even having to look at the return address.

It was a parcel from a someone from my childhood past whom I had not heard from for at least 10 years or so.

Exciting! Surprised! and indeed even some Wonderment as thoughts of "What on Earth? " and "This is Really Something" to think that this person had actually sent a parcel along to me at Christmas.

I quickly tore open the brown paper, noticed my name written on the outside of the shoebox (yes it was meant for me) and lifted the lid to see layers of newspaper.  Placing my hand in amongst the crumpled pages I found several  fragile items wrapped within.  

As I excitedly extracted each from its blanket of pulp and ink I realized that there was a theme to the contents. The  several miniature tea cups and saucers, figurines, and sea shells, all of which had been resting safe and sound high up upon the kitchen shelf out of harm's way in my parent's farm house for all of my childhood, had not been seen by myself for over 20 years.

 I commented to my family that I found that the wrapping was a bit haphazard as some articles were paired oddly with the others.  I remarked, " This almost looks as if my long lost friend has taken lessons from Mom in the art of packing."

It was only after I carefully washed the dust off of each treasure and placed it carefully on a shelf, high up and out of harm's way, safe and sound  in the kitchen,  had I a chance to look again at the parcel and the newspaper that kept those  irreplaceable bits of glass and sea shells safe through the Christmas mail.

It was then that I realized that the date on the newspaper was not 2013..but rather 1994.  It occurred to me then  that those little gifts were not from my long lost friend so much as they were truly from my Mom , and the wrapping methodology was really hers and not randomly mimicked by the one who mailed them.

Sort of neat to think about.  Mom's hands were the last to touch those frail and fragile bits, and the last to wrap them so they would stay safe. Her thoughts were of me some 20 years ago as she wrote my name on the shoebox and sealed it tight.

The figurines were  made in Occupied Japan which, along with the tea cups and saucers, were gifts from a childless aunt. The Sea shells are from a pen pal I had from Sointula , British Columbia when I was five years old.  I would dictate the letter to Mom, she would print it, I would  then  retrace the letters onto another piece of paper. I think his Mom did the same for him.  Our correspondence continued until we were about 10 or 11.

O Christmas Tree

A few days ago , an evergreen tree was chopped down from the grounds of a local church.  The trees in the church yard had been planted nearly 30 years ago and tended faithfully by one of the members of the congregation. It was quite an upsetting time for the church as a whole to grasp the fact that such a deed had been committed by someone in the community.

Many people initially exhibited anger, dismay, and disgust at the total seemingly lack of respect shown to the church and its members. " How could someone do such a thing? "  "Thievery" "Report them to the police".   

Others responded on a different note, "We must forgive." "Find out who they are and tell them we forgive them."  "It is only a tree--forget about it."

The controversy went back and forth with thoughts of WW JD? along with suggestions of letters of forgiveness being sent to the Editor of the local newspaper.  Such ideas were challenged by thoughts of building a fence perhaps around the church yard to keep people out or perhaps installing a video camera for security.  

It is not certain what the good members of this Christian church will choose to do in response to this seemingly travesty  of fairness in this Season of  Goodness and Light.

Now I am not well schooled in theology or bible studies, nor do I attend any one denomination of 
any Christian church on a regular basis, however,
I will venture forth in describing my opinion on what an appropriate response that this church might take.

1.  It is JUST a tree.
2.  There must have been some reason why the culprit decided that THAT tree was the one to take. Perhaps it was shaped and full. Perhaps the church grounds were the only place where they thought they could take a tree without getting caught.
3. No, it doesn't seem fair that someone who has worked over thirty years have something like that stolen from them in a wink of an eye. Gone forever.

4. I think we should ask why would anyone think it would be so necessary to have a tree that they would go out and STEAL one..even one from the church.

5.  I think that perhaps the problem lies not in the fact that a tree left unguarded has been taken, but 
somehow the true message of Christmas has not only been lost on the person(s) who have done the stealing, but more importantly and even more tragically the people who purport to know what Christmas is all about have seemingly lost track (at least for the moment) of the Message that Christmas should convey.

   
A  beloved tree has been stolen
From the church grounds.
Taken  home to celebrate 
The birth of a Savior.
To  decorate and place gifts underneath,
To show  love to one another.

Have we forgotten how
He showed us His Love 
By placing His  Gift to us
On a tree  so that
We  could also be forgiven,
and brought Home? 

A Christmas Letter from an Eight Year Old Penny.

Dear Doreen,

How are you? I am fine.

The Christmas Concert has been performed.  I guess we did okay after all those weeks of practicing, practicing, practicing--not only lines for recitations and song singing  but also LINING UP. 
I really can't see the purpose  or value in having to line up 25 Grade 3ers according to height --much less  having to practice to do that over and over again,  when in fact from the time we first started to practice until the actual performance night, some of us had grown and the whole order had to be changed at least 3 times before the final night anyways.  


Another thing I learned about Christmas Concert practice is that you find out that that sweet and most beautiful soft spoken teacher you have all during the rest of the year can actually use a voice that sounds a lot like MOM when she finds that you have bitten your sister, locked the cat into the back of the kitchen cupboard for 12 hours, or  used her scissors to create an alternate  hair fashion  for your little brother.

I think one of the strangest things that happened lately is that Mom came home from shopping and instead of unloading groceries  or cleaning products on the kitchen cupboard, she ran straight into her bedroom and rattled stuff around  and then came out with empty bags in hand with a stern and meaningful look on her face warning us not to go into her clothes closet for ANY reason whatsoever..even if there is a fire.   That just seems weird to me --as if we kids ever make it a habit of hanging around in her bedroom closet  just  for Fun and Games (except  for that time when cousin James came to babysit us and he put on that fashion show  with Mom's clothes and makeup on..but I don't think she even knows about THAT) .

 It's not as if there were any video games in there or toys to play with or candies to munch on--well not as least as far as I know anyways.

Christmas is just a little weird though isn't it?  Everyone gets so excited about cooking, baking fancy cookies (just what is with that black stuff that looks just LIKE chocolate syrup but isn't-- that they use to make cookies that look LIKE little chocolate men but aren't?).  

 I had to take some fresh baked buns to the 90 year old bachelor down our street the other day because it was Christmas!  What is it about Christmas that demands that stuff be done like that?  Kindness is what Mom calls it..but as those Buns of Kindness  probably only last I bet only about 2 hours ,  it makes me wonder what happens to that guy from now until next Christmas?

I think I have to go now.  Mom went out shopping again and I see she left her clothes closet door wide open this time ---

Merry Christmas! Happy 1961!

Your friend,

Penny

Thirty two..and I ain't talking teeth...

December 18, 1981  --  December 18, 2013

32 Years

"No day that is gone was shadowless

No night was without its star.

But mingled bitter and sweet has been

the portion of our cup.

The Hand that in love has smitten

In love has bound us up."

--author unknown.

We've cried each other's tears and  braved the world as one.

Time has passed as swift as a Christmas morning and has been  as treasured as the most precious gift ever received.

They say that the present for a 32nd Anniversary is a form of transportation which might include but is not limited to, a car, bicycle, train ticket, cruise, flight, and  perhaps even hitchhiking.

Merry Christmas

Sneaky Season

'Tis the Season of merry making, baking, and thoughts of gift getting and buying.

'Tis also the Season of Sneakiness.

Yes, sneakiness is an inherent part of this celebration demanding every bit as much skill and agility as special  CSIS or CIA agents.  What other time of year  do so many have so many intentional secrets either in thought or deed? 

 What other time of year do husbands, wives, and children purposely hide their purchases unless they are part of the drug cartel or are in some sleazy affair either for love, money, or power?

 The power of observation in the mass population has been  elevated through intense exercise for at least the last six weeks. People around the world have being carefully observing, following, watching and surreptitiously quizzing  their loved ones to get a sense of the  perfect gift to acquire.  People have planned these Christmas purchases and ultimate surprise delivery with as much care as any military operation by having the timing  of the purchase arranged just right, as well as concealing said purchase, covered by then in shiny paper, ribbons, and  obligatory tinsel until the perfect  time of reveal somewhere between 6 pm  December 24 and 8 am December 25. 

 Things have been  and will be covered, stuffed  and jammed into and underneath places that never before have seen such articles.  Trunks of cars, backs of cupboards, under stairways, garage shelves, and under beds will all be precious unlikely storage areas for such things as watches, crystal, books, jewelry, chocolates, lingerie, furs, and even kittens.  

 Ultimately, after all this planning one also has to somehow hide the financial cost from the end of the month bank statement.

Yes , sneakiness is part of the season without a doubt.

My dad had a sense of this sneakiness when he had an especially wanted living room chair delivered on  Christmas Eve by the local McLeod's furniture dealer while our family was out visiting.  He also exercised this same skill when he brought in a huge and very heavy box into the house about a week before Christmas to have us, his two eldest daughters, wrap for our Mom in front of our Mom.  Christmas Day proved that it was a large rock sitting on top of a Smith Corona typewriter.

Granted it seems in some cases that being sneaky and smart are  neither kind or even in anyway connected when one considers the guy whose wife , after all the presents were opened and  there was nothing but paper under the tree, mischievously announced  with a gleam in her eye as she looked at her husband that there is another present to open.  As he sat looking blank and unknowing, the wife went into the bedroom closet and after hearing a gasp, he followed her to see her holding a note that said 'Thank you for the earrings, darling."  A bit of sneakiness gone awry as apparently earrings were found in the same said pocket a week prior.

This  sneakiness also was also explored in our  own household about 32 years ago this Christmas Season.  In the days of having to get a Complete Medical Examination performed before one could apply for a Marriage License, my soon to be husband had to go to his parents' house  and use their phone to make the  required  appointment.  As he didn't want prying questions as to why an otherwise healthy and strong young man would be going to the doctor, he fake limped on his motorcycle accident knee so no questions would be asked.  His concerned mother hovered over him for the next week suggesting pain killers and braces.  His  sore knee was  much talked about at the next  meeting of the Women's Institute  as a neighbour lady had actually seen him limping into the doctor's waiting room.  

  

There was even more talk about two weeks later when the Women's Institute next met in the New Year  about the confirmed bachelor who had somehow ran off with his sore knee and had gotten married over the Christmas Season.

Magpie Musings.

As 2013 comes to a rapid and icy close  cloaked in frigid air and  walking out on frost bitten toes there are still some mysteries of the year that have so far been left unanswered.


Here are my top ten unanswered questions for 2013--some are new...some have replaced last year's unsolved problems due to immediacy and intense need to know..and others are just some random inquisitive thoughts not based on the urge  to increase knowledge but  mostly just about idol if not idle curiosity.

1.  Just who? and what ?and why? are Kardashians anyone should care about? I suppose that could count as three but I am the writer of this and I choose to consider this only one question because it is so trite.

2. Has anyone ever figured out where all those floating feet off of the British Columbia coast came from? Y/N answer will suffice.

3. Why would any one ever shop at Target? --This might involve a paragraph type answer. Use the bottom of this blog if necessary. 

4. Why has my Dad's estate not been settled after nearly ten years?
     I suspect there are a few 'fill in the blanks' multiple choice responses to be explored.  I could have made it a T/F answer as well.

5. Why am I always hungry? A rhetoric question.

6. How can it be that the Government owes me about $3000 in taxes  which I paid last year, but because of an error in calculation I now owe it  an additional $1000 , only to be  reimbursed totally sans interest in the  next tax year?  I expect no response  due to the high volume of calls being experienced at pretty much any time of the day.

7.  Just why were those two cops who came to my house in the dark about a month ago quizzing my husband about how he got fired and advising him that if he wanted to get his job back he could just give the bosses a call?  I doubt if there will ever be a REAL answer that can be published or hardly even talked about..but I do have my suspicions..PANEFUL as it is. To me, however,  the answer is clear as GLASS.  

These last few questions will be in the form of matching.

8.  Why do magpies wipe their beaks         a) no reason
     in the snow before eating a piece of 
     dog food?

9. Why are Senators who steal from           b) no reason
    the public not put in jail?

10. Why is Rob Ford newsworthy?            c) no reason

  

I'm like a magpie. I use lots of different things to build a character.

Andrew Lincoln

(Don't) Wait On Me

Probably the only real reason I like to eat out is the fact that I don't have to do the clean up.

 My actual preferred type of eating establishment is cafeteria style where one simply chooses the food oneself without a barrage of questions regarding sauces, up sizing, or extras.

But as cafeteria style food isn't always available or the preferred social milieu of one's companion, sometimes I have to acquiesce and actually go to a sit down restaurant and participate in the socially accepted interaction between the servers and myself.  

There seems in our society that there is an automatic expectation, an unwritten contract if you will, between restaurant management staff  and their clients that has somehow evolved that implies that the number of times a waiter/waitress interrupts a conversation  to ask 'if there is anything more you need?' is equal to the value and efficiency and ultimately to the enjoyment of the eating 'out' experience. 

I think it is time these restaurants realize that an enjoyable dining out experience is more than having a someone hover over you as if you are going to somehow crash and burn because your every culinary need or whim is not immediately met.  It is time they realized that good service means sometimes no service in the sense that too much of anything, in this case 'hovering' is often intrusive and ultimately really annoying. 
  
How does one get the best service ever in a restaurant  and at the same time have a pleasant conversation with your supper date  without being either ignored or pestered by the servers you query?

Give the waitress/waiter $5 the  very first time they approach your table with menus. Explain that  your goal that evening is a long and intimate conversation with your companion with whom you haven't seen in several months (even if it isn't true).  You could  even suggest that you have to discuss serious private matters concerning your recent Lotto winnings,  or that you are meeting this person on important government security business. This all helps to impress the server that your goal of conversation is more desired than any type of service they may render.

      Inform this person in a polite and straightforward manner that you will not be annoyed in any way if you have to stand up and wave to them if you would like more coffee or  if you require a clean fork or would like to order off the desert menu.

Tell them that you don't even care all that much if the food isn't just perfect, the exact preferred temperature, or even if it isn't what you ordered.  

Tell this person whose feet probably are already tired and hurting, who has dealt with annoying and demanding customers as well as their own supervisors for the past five hours, that if need be, you will tell their boss that you have specifically asked to be somewhat ignored.

You can make little rules between you and the server regarding fresh coffee needs and/or when more water or another order for food would be welcome by leaving empty cups or dishes at the edge of the table to indicate that , "Yes, you may now come and see if we need anything else." 

"If I ever own a restaurant, I will never allow the waiters to ask if the diners like their dishes. Particularly when they're talking." - Orson Welles quotes from BrainyQuote.com

(NO) That AIN'T the Truth.

Don't you just hate it when you realize that you are being lied to? 

Especially when the person lying to you is a  friend  that you have extended the sacred bond of trust and the treasured attribute of respect  that inherently accompanies such trust. This trust is as most assuredly melded into  and cannot be separated from any friendship any more than one can separate an egg from a cake that has already been baked, remove a spice from a sauce once it has been mixed, or unsay a word once it has been uttered.

I am not referring to the parts of the friendship that sometimes requires  forgiveness for slights felt due to human error, forgetfulness, even selfishness.  I am not referring to thoughtless acts of  well intended comments that are obviously products of poor listening or understanding.  I am not even referring to habitual tardiness or tenuous appointment keeping.

What I am talking about is  an easily found out  lie that sometimes is placed at my feet by friends as a meager offering designed to imitate a real and legitimate truth. 

This type of lie from one who has been  deemed to be a friend is about as welcome as when our cat decides to bring a dead mouse into the house and leaves it at my feet.  They both somehow think that they can drag anything into the relationship, plunk it down in front of me and walk away and all will be well.  Little do either of them know that  the next time something is laid down in my path of life  in such a manner, the door of trust will be shut just a little sooner and the flow of friendship will be affected forever.

One of the most striking differences between a cat and a lie is that a cat has only nine lives.

Mark Twain

Flakes

Flakes of snow will soon be falling in my part of the world creating havoc for some, welcome diversion for others, and beauty in the eyes of those who like the pristine and untouched whiteness of a landscape smoothly covered in a flaky quilt of delicate ice crystals reminiscent of tatted doilies  spread over the back of a brushed navy sofa.

There are flakes of snow in nature. Flakes of oats and flakes of coconut in the food world.  In the world of elements and machines there are flakes of gold, metal, and paint.  

Flakes are usually light, small in nature, and generally not permanent or deep.  They are usually merely a hint that there is more to be tasted or seen.   Often they are just a decoration, a thin veil or veneer like covering such as  cheap plywood covered with a minuscule layer of precious lumber.

 All these are designed to catch the eye and suggest  more value  and depth than they  actually have.

There are Flakes of Attitude as well.  These flakes are in the form of some of the more ridiculous and trite aspects of our every day living.  These flakes have a way of piling up and covering what is really important every bit as much as millions upon millions of flakes of snow can cover the yellow line on the highway causing danger to all in the vicinity.

Flakes of Attitude involve the use and belief in Botox, Osh Kosh Baby Clothes, Designer Anything and Everything, Horoscopes, Magnets, Rock Readings, Oprah, and The Kardashians  to name just a few. The erroneous thought process that accompany these Flecks of the Attitude are often manifested in the See It Gotta Have It Mentality that is particularly prevalent during these, the darkest days of the year.  Flecks of Attitude can also be described as the phenomena of  'Sideways Thinking'--something that is often only vaguely sensed as an unease, a skip of a beat, or an action or gesture in opposition to professed values and beliefs ie. charity offerings vs. use of third world labourers for materials bought.  

And the NAIL is???

The nail is the fact that the truth of  all Flakes whether they are animal, mineral, or attitudinal will without a doubt sooner or later be exposed for the hoaxes that they are, just as assuredly as the flakes of snow that will land and linger for a while, obscuring my journey in the world  this winter,  and which will invariably be exposed by the warmth and brightness  of truth that can only be compared to the beauty of a  sunny spring day...

...and then the world will be a better place.