Monday, November 28, 2005


It’s cold here.
It’s bone chilling, teeth gritting, hairs freeze in your nostrils cold. I remember trudging to school on days like this, wearing skirts and tights, because girls were not allowed to wear slacks. Now I’m cheerfully sending my boys out in the mind numbing cold ~ and I’m doing it with a smile, because I have piles, and piles, and yes, more piles of work to do.
I don’t know if I hope my boss calls me to work today because I need the Christmas money, or I hope he doesn’t, because I need the time to muck out my house and get ready for the holidays.


Since my entry yesterday I’ve been thinking about memories. My sister commented on my blog last night that her youngest {bonus} daughter still has fond memories of our Thanksgiving football game, “{she} said the other day that we always played a football game on Thanksgiving when she was little.”
I have memories too, of things we “always” did as children too. I remember making gingerbread houses one year, and decorating sugar cookies many years. I remember the year the power went out on Christmas eve, and I remember the year I desperately wanted “Pebbles and Bam~Bam Dolls.” But being aware, at even that young age that Santa had a limited supply of cash and telling my father right before going to sleep that I would be okay with just getting “Pebbles.”
Of course, Santa brought both of them to me, and my sister put my hair up in a Pebbles ponytail, using the doll’s bone as a decoration.
I remember the elaborated Barbie doll house my mother made for my older sister, and I still marvel at her inventiveness. For example, she used Clorox bottles to make kitchen chairs.
I wonder what memories I am giving my children, if one joyful football game goes down in family legend. Will they treasure the contrived moments of visiting Santa and getting a token candy cane. Or will their minds linger on the happy accidents like days of making puppet shows and playing with trains.
I hope their memories will forgive me for emotional breakdowns while trying to untangle lights, and dwell instead on the glow of the fire and the taste of hot chocolate.

12 comments:

Julie Ann Shahin said...

Brrrr. I hope you are keeping warm!

Tara said...

I LOVE the photo of the snow! The photo of your son playing near teh tree is super cute!

Sheila said...

Your journaling is touching...so many memories to share! Love the pics, too!

Anonymous said...

Ooooh, GREAT photo of the snow on the tree. It seems to sum it all up... how cold it is, how Christmas is just around the corner. I love it! :)

Great blogging about the holiday memories too.

Anonymous said...

Brr...it's freezing over here too! I don't even want to think about snow. Again, love your journaling. I hope my kids are going to have happy memories too...

Linda said...

Nice thoughts about Christmas memories. So important to spend time thinking about those things which will last instead of the hustle and bustle of the holidays.

Lovely photo of the snowy tree!

Lorrie said...

Oh, your journaling is awesome and made me sit and think about those important memories I have! Great job, and I love your photos!

Anonymous said...

Oh great photos Alleen!!! I hate super cold days. We are having 10 degrees below normal for this time of year. High of 53 today. Brrrrr.

Anonymous said...

How about when dad decided to burn all the wrapping in the fireplace? I think the mantle still bares the blisters. Good times... good times!

Anonymous said...

Cold!? you want cold! try 3 deg. this morning with a high of around 20.

Melissa said...

great photo of the snow! your journaling about the holiday memories is so warm :)

Anonymous said...

It's amazing how fast one can forget real cold. Of course the moisture can make even a freezing day feel like the deep arctic. I remember being colder in Oregon than I've ever been. Me the denizen of the 40 degrees below zero regions. I'd still rather be cold than too hot. Call it a mild nurosis, but too hot is just the most miserable a person can be. Anyway, be of good cheer we had a beautiful fall this year. Still missing you.