Holidays

December prep

/ Sheila / 10 Comments

Ah, the Monday after Thanksgiving, with a short stretch between now and Christmas to fill with holiday joys, obligations, to dos, card writing, baking, and, oh yes, the routine work that keeps bills paid and life flowing. It will be a short month! I’m feeling excited and overwhelmed: I have a simultaneous desire to get creative with holiday crafting and shopping, and a need to postpone…to say “not yet!”

So, in time-honored fashion, I choose to postpone one task with another. I’m spending a day in between: we’re traveling back to Alaska tomorrow, so I have a day before the madness begins. Today I’ve given to lunch with my husband and a family dinner with our son; to pausing before the holiday rush to gather myself; to organize my lists and review finances; to remind myself that just like every other holiday season of my life, this one won’t be perfect, but it can be wonderful; and to breathe deep and sit still, listen to some holiday music, drink some hot tea.

I’m contemplating resolutions, and my word to encapsulate the coming year. I’m setting the tone, right now. I’m imagining how I want these holidays to be celebrated. I’m planning. Because the truth is, the gifts will be bought and cards written, work accomplished. But I’m setting the attitude behind all of it now. I can go through the next few weeks harried and rushed and get the job done. Or I can choose to look for the humor, feel the joy, smile even when I’m frustrated, remember to breathe. I know the days will be long and the hours short. But I want the good stuff to shine through.

Christmas and holidays are so easily derailed…the expectations, the images that we have to live up to dance across our television screens and in store displays. But I’ve found that there are better things than gifts, and perfect tables, perfect meals. The secret is service. I look for ways to serve, and I am filled. I look for people to serve, and I am found.

“I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy. I woke and I saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy.”  ~ Kahlil Gibran

Today I’m grateful

/ Sheila / 5 Comments

I’m up early, rolling little balls of sticky sausage and cheese for breakfast. Not the most pleasant kitchen task, but the little bites of savory are perfect with coffee on a cold November morning. More than that, these little bites are a traditional beginning to our winter holiday feasts. So I roll, getting the tray of uniform balls ready to bake, ready to serve when the group stirs.

As I roll I think, my mind free to wander as my hands are occupied with the sticky dough. And this day in November, my heart is full of thanks.

I’m thinking of all those people throughout the country who are working quietly, keeping things running, humming, even on a week day when most of us are off and home with family. The healthcare staff, the police, the crews working at airports, the military who’re on duty today, the folks keeping gas stations and convenience stores going for the benefit of travelers; I think of the lights that come on when I flip the switch, the oven that heats, the warm kitchen…I’m sure there are crews monitoring the utilities of our lives, making sure the turkey can roast and the cranberry salad stays chilled. And tomorrow, and on Saturday, crews will be out, making the rounds in trash and recycling trucks, taking away the remnants of the feasting, and the shopping, and the gathering.

I am a worker. But I don’t keep life stitched together. I’m essential only to a few souls on earth, and even that necessity is limited to a supporting role. And I recognize that. In one sense, none of us is essential. No one is irreplaceable. Life teaches us that, sooner or later.

But some people have chosen to take on life tasks that make them, for a time, essential. The odd thing is that many of those tasks also are invisible to the average person. Who sees, or knows, the names and faces of service workers? Other service workers, and their family members.

People contribute in many ways. We have a lot of teachers in my family. We have ministers, mothers and fathers, doctors, nurses, a truck driver, an undertaker, IRS agents, a cartographer, business owners and executives, writers, publishers, engineers, security guards, counselors, IT professionals, farmers…who have I left out? What a splendid array of professions, now that I see the list on my screen!

But just today, I’m thinking of the ones who cover call, whose jobs don’t take a break because the calendar says to…the folks who know that their turn will come, if not this holiday, then the next…it will be their turn to work when everyone else is off, and keep essential services up and running. To those people, I’m especially grateful. My lights came on, and I know if I have an emergency, someone will answer the call for help.

Thank you for being there, even when I’m too busy, in my holiday rush of list completion, to notice. And just now, with my hands covered in dough, my mind is still, calm for a moment, and I picture you, going about your routine, keeping us safe, keeping things humming, invisible but so necessary. Thank you for choosing hard jobs, and long hours, and for doing the (often) thankless and unglamorous tasks. Thank you for giving up your family time, and for making mine possible.

Heart home

/ Sheila / 3 Comments

We’re traveling again, on the road for the Thanksgiving holiday. This year we’ll be with family, seeing different ones over the course of the week. Some years we’ve been with friends, and had to add the family touch via phone. We do the best we can, but making the family connection in person is not always possible. When that happens, friends round out the circle, fill in the space at the table, make the holiday bright.

Here’s what I’ve learned about celebrating and connecting in spirit, since we moved far from family, 27 years ago:

  • When you connect on a regular basis, holidays are icing on the cake. Holidays don’t have to function as points of glue. The day-to-day relationship is the glue.
  • Connecting can be as simple as a phone call or Skyping or a card or an email. Or in today’s world, a Facebook post.
  • Distance can work for you. It can smooth the rough spots and make you appreciate the good stuff.
  • You’ll only maintain the relationships you nurture. That’s especially true when you have to relate across the miles.
  • A carefully planned “surprise” visit, or some gesture that shows you’re thinking outside the box…becomes a highlight. There’s nothing more fun than orchestrating a trip like this. And the faces when you pull it off…priceless!
  • Spending holidays with friends has enlarged our circle and our traditions. Some of my favorite memories are of Thanksgivings with friends. We’ve learned new foods, new games, and built relationships that have lasted over the years, solidified by adopting others as “family.”
  • Find the right balance between pulling out all the stops for a special gathering, and keeping it real and sane. I’ve learned to pick and choose…we don’t try to do everything, we just try to do a few things well.
  • Mark the moment. I’ve learned to stop in the middle of the hustle-bustle and just look around and absorb.
  • Limit the drama. Family gatherings should not be a time of crisis or scenes. Create memories that are good so you’ll want to get together again.
  • Bring something new to the party…a new food, a new game, something different.
  • Decide what traditions are keepers. What are you always going to do, no matter who sits at the table?

Holidays don’t wait for life to be perfect. I’ve never quite achieved the Martha Stewart magazine spread for my living room or my dining room, although I’ve tried. Who doesn’t have the ideal scene in their head, just waiting to be unveiled in real life and captured in family photos as proof that it can be done?

But I’ve had better than a magazine spread. I’ve had the real thing, in all its chaos and glory, deliciousness and kitchen failures, to tell me, and those gathered with me: this is the good stuff.

 “The sun looks down on nothing half so good as a household laughing together over a meal.”   ~ C.S. Lewis

Grace of giving

/ Sheila / 7 Comments

The giving season is here. Once again, condensed into a few short weeks of voluntary (!) opportunity, giving takes center stage.

I’m not one of those smart people who spreads the task of gift collecting around the calendar. I like to be in the season, in the mood, and inspired by the sights and sounds of holiday. I do a lot of my shopping on line for the convenience factor. And living in Alaska means that most of my gifts will be shipped, so it’s easier to shop and ship sitting warm and cozy in my living room. And the store’s always open!

But for all the convenience and variety, online buying is a lonely experience.

Every year, I like to get out to the stores and do a little of my shopping the old fashioned way. Face to face with the shimmer of lights and color, it’s easy to get in the mood to give. I love the icons of the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas, at their best, bring out the best in people. And if some treat gift-giving as a competitive sport, there are plenty of others who offer selfless sharing where it’s needed most.

While I’m out looking for the perfect items to go under the tree, I see potential that needs no tree, no names, and small effort. But these acts of kindness warm me down to my toes, put a smile on my face, take me out of myself and my small world.

At the grocery store I see a table set up outside the door, manned by volunteers collecting items for a children’s food pantry. They hand out cards that list the items they’re collecting. Pick up a few things for them while I shop, drop off on my way to my car, and snap! the good deed’s done. And all I had to do was throw a few things in my cart and hand them off. Yes I paid for them. But these small donations don’t make a big dent in a food budget, yet it all adds up to meals for hungry kids.

Another way to give at the grocery…my Safeway invites customers to add a dollar or three or five to their total bill. The extra is donated to the cause of the month, often to organizations that are fighting specific diseases. I like to say yes, even if I only add a dollar or two.

Angel trees, Toys for Tots and programs like these, provide gifts where they’re needed most. I’ll be honest to say, though I’ve never felt wealthy, my kids never wondered if there would be gifts for them on Christmas morning. One of the saddest things to see the day or two before Christmas is an angel tree with names still attached. I always wonder about those names.

There’s always giving through my church, in the community and outside it, sending dollars to be foot soldiers and ambassadors of goodwill. Often churches give to local families that have special needs, and that’s a wonderful way to connect.

There are endless ways to take part, join in, reach out. This season, I’d like to challenge anyone reading to make a difference. Be deliberate and intentional about giving. If you can, remain anonymous. That’s actually part of the fun.

  • You can give your money…that’s easiest for some, hardest for others.
  • You can give your time…that’s easiest for some, hardest for others.
  • You can give your cheerfulness and smiles. I love to smile at a customer service worker when the line is backed up or when they’ve had a grumpy customer in front of me. I like to let them know I’m in their corner. Anyone who’s ever worked in a customer service position will understand this. The relief of meeting patience, kindness, niceness, after a difficult customer…well, that can turn a miserable moment into sunshine. I know, because I’ve been there.
  • Buy something…anything…from kids selling door to door. I went on many a band trip financed from candy and calendar sales, and my kids did their share of fundraising too. Be a “yes” house! Don’t disappear when you see them coming down your street.
  • Take food in to work, to friends, to any place you volunteer. Food is always welcome!
  • Here’s an idea I saw tonight…put together gallon ziplock bags of things that homeless people could use…travel sized toiletries, granola bars, chap stick, gum, tissue packs, etc. Keep them in your car to give when you see a need.
  • Give to a veteran’s organization. Enough said.
  • Pay a toll or some other fee for the person in line behind you.
  • Adopt a family that needs assistance and give to them anonymously. Leave a box with the makings of a holiday dinner and wrapped gifts at their door. Neither you nor the recipients will ever forget that box.
  • Give airline miles if you have them and know of someone who needs them.
  • Many companies allow employees to donate leave time to co-workers who have a medical or family need. You could consider donating time to a fellow employee who’s missing a paycheck because they’re out of paid leave but can’t return to work yet.
  • Find a cause or group that speaks to you and give to it on a regular basis.
  • Give spontaneously to something you’ve not supported before.
  • Give generously. At the risk of making assumptions, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that anyone reading this has first world problems. And if that’s true, generosity, on some level, is within your power.
  • At the other end of the spectrum, I sometimes think that giving on a regular basis is more important than the actual dollar value of a donation. I waffle on this…is it better to give a large amount to one or two good causes, or to spread the giving around? But however it’s done, good will be done, I’m convinced of that.

And finally, a few truths:

Some gifts will be wasted, unappreciated, lost. That’s sad. But even when this happens, it doesn’t diminish the choice to give, and the good that choice does for the giver.

If at all possible, make giving a family activity. Involve your kids or grandkids, not to impress them with your generous spirit, but to teach them to develop their own.

Speaking honestly, my giving to others is like a boomerang…it comes right back, in an emotional reward if no other way. Giving doesn’t make me a saint…I give because it feeds and nurtures me to give as much as it helps the ones who receive.

I give because it’s the right thing to do, and the heart knows that instinctively.

I believe the impulse to share is one of the best traits of humanity, and it’s built in. We just have to nurture that trait.

I give because others have given to me, and I’m grateful to be on the giving end of the equation.

It’s a little too early to be sending out holiday greetings, but maybe this is a way to launch the season. Be mindful of opportunities and look for the joy.

“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” 
― John E. Southard

Fresh from California

/ Sheila / 4 Comments
Biscoff spread. Has 5g of sugar so it's out of...

Biscoff spread. (Photo credit: programwitch)

So here I am, back in Ketchikan on Labor Day Monday, ready to work the rest of the week. My end-of-August flirtation with California sun and big beach hats is done, and I’m moving into work mode.

I got home today to find that summer is still here. That was a surprise. I haven’t seen the weather forecast for Ketchikan the past ten days, and I figured we’d used up all the available sunny days we’d be allotted for the season. But not true, there are several more on tap this week. I rode across on the airport ferry standing outside the cabin…that doesn’t happen often. My car was delicious, the warmth causing it to release its lingering new car smell (after 4 1/2 years…that should tell you how much this vehicle is used!) My house was roasty and welcoming in the afternoon light streaming in the big front windows.

And to add to the summer temps lingering a little longer, I imported seasonal flavors to enjoy the next few days. We took frozen salmon down with us to grill while we were camping, and I made use of my emptied fish box to bring back tomatoes, corn, squash, peaches, and a jar or two of Biscoff Spread. (No, no, that’s not produce…just an item I can’t find in the local market.)Would you believe the last time I bought a jar of this delight and tried to bring it back with me in my carry-on luggage, TSA took it from me?!  This stuff is definitely not a liquid. I was assured that the staff can’t consume anything they confiscate, they’re required to dispose of food. That’s almost worse than thinking of some stranger eating my Biscoff. Seems like a waste all around!

Of course I can buy all the fresh produce in Ketchikan. But the charming thing was that I bought it yesterday at a farm stand in California. Whenever I have the option of buying produce from a roadside stand, I’m drawn like a moth to flame. What is it about the farming heritage that makes produce at a farm stand more alluring than neatly stacked fruits and vegetables in a lovely market setting? I always think it’s my grandmothers’ farming blood singing in my veins. Although I’ve grown little beyond tomatoes and rhubarb and flowers, I like the idea of farm fresh. Never mind that I have seen enough of the work side of gardening to know that it’s not the glamorous occupation it’s cracked up to be!

So, when it occurred to me that I could dine on home-grown tomato sandwiches all this week, I couldn’t resist the temptation to bring up just a few things. A couple of guys at the airport this morning saw my fish box and wondered aloud why I was taking fish to Alaska. You see these iconic cardboard boxes all summer as tourists and fishermen take home their catch, flash frozen and ready for travel. Well hey, I figured if the styrofoam-lined box can keep fish frozen on a trip down to the lower 48, it could keep veggies in good condition to travel back up. And I’m happy to report that I was right. All produce survived amateur transportation. My sandwich was delicious! I know I’ve waxed eloquent about my favorite summer feast before…just can’t help myself. A sign that I’ve had almost enough tomatoes is that I begin to get mouth ulcers from all the acidity after overindulging. But I’m not even close yet. Maybe after this week. It’s a painful condition for a day or two, and I’ve never been successful at timing…I only know I’ve had too many tomatoes when the little ulcers begin to appear. But this is my dedication: I’m willing to suffer for the mayonnaise-and-tomato-on-soft-white-bread symphony. Especially when the best flavor is only a summer treat.

We went to a huge flea market last week. Found a beautiful straw hat, very Audrey Hepburn style. I loved the hat so much I wanted to bring it home. But that seems a waste as it’s likely to get more wear when we’re RVing. Not really much occasion for Audrey big hats in Alaska.  Well, this is not exactly how my hat looks. But it is lovely, take my word for it, and big enough I could have sailed a small vessel with it. Very useful for shading small countries that are lounging at the pool and have forgotten sunscreen.

15 apr 1963

15 apr 1963 (Photo credit: fred baby)

I also found a couple of elegant glass bottles for holding sparkling water or juice…whatever…really the contents don’t matter. My clear glass fetish kicked in and I was compelled to buy these two lovelies. Rob just looks at me like I’ve grown a third eye or something equally hideous. He cannot understand my need for clear glass objects. Most of the time I control it very well. But let’s just say one day I’ll have a thing or two to leave some like-minded clear glass aficionado. You know who you are. I think I raised one of those people, so that will probably work out to be my son-in-law’s storage issue eventually.

So, home, treasures unpacked, and a few eaten, and on to next. September and pumpkins and all things fall. I had a maple latte at the airport this morning. Aaahhh, it begins!