Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today. Will Rogers
I needed to see this quote! For some reason, I have been thinking a lot about the past. I have lots of good memories. But lately, I have been thinking about the less-than-good times. Why is that? It is a waste of time, for sure.
It also makes it hard to go to sleep. And without good sleep, I am lazy and grumpy. When I am lazy and grumpy nothing gets done. I just sit and think miserable thoughts. Remember the song, Sitting in the Garden Eating Worms? That’s me the last couple of days.
So, I talked with Teddy and Jack. They are very good at helping me see the bright side of life. I will have a good sleep tonight, and tomorrow I will be my usual good-natured self.
The three-year-old girl was looking at the dark sky from her bed when her mother went in to kiss her goodnight. “Why are you looking at the sky?” her mother asked. “The stars are the windows angels make so the people in heaven can look down here and see us. Pa died today so I am trying to figure out which star he is looking through, but there are so many stars,” was the child’s reply.
With tears in her eyes, the mother gave her daughter a hug and told her it didn’t matter if they didn’t know which star was her grandpa’s window because he knew which window down here belonged to her. The little girl snuggled under the covers ready for her goodnight kiss and said, “Mommy, don’t be sad. Pa knows which window is yours, too. I bet he is waiting for you to go to bed so he can send a kiss to you.”
I still sometimes look at the angel’s windows
and wonder from which stars the people I love
are looking through and sending me a kiss.
“Christmas is a stocking stuffed with sugary goodness.” Mo Rocca
Christmas eve we would hang our stockings for Santa to put little surprises in. They weren’t those big fancy stockings they were our own socks, the ones we actually wore. We didn’t have a fireplace mantel so we hung our socks on our bedroom door knobs and when we moved to a bigger house they were hung on the stair rail. I thought I was quite smart the year I hung up one of my knee socks. But Santa was too smart for me and he filled up the extra space with scrunched up newspaper.
Christmas morning we would dig in those socks to see what goodies we would find. There would be a small toy when we were little and some small gadget when we were older. There would be new socks and maybe a comic book. When we were older there was perfume for me and cologne for my brothers. Yes, there was sugary goodness, too. Chocolate and peppermint candy, peanuts and bubble gum. In the toe of the sock there was always an onion. Just to remind us we weren’t that good.
The Christmas stocking is my favorite memory of Christmas morning. It reminds me of my mother’s love and humor. We were often at odds. My temper would flare and she would put on her pea mouth and give me the silent treatment but there was always something like that silly onion in the sock that let me know she loved me in spite of our differences.
I love the following Christmas film(s) I can’t think of one.
I don’t care for the following Christmas film(s)…apparently, Christmas movies haven’t made an impression on me, can’t think of one I didn’t like either.
At the holidays, I cannot resist the food!
A favourite holiday memory of mine is the year we went as a family to get a tree and putting it up with all the decorations and tinsel. It was the prettiest tree ever. After we sat looking at it for awhile and feeling quite proud of ourselves we went to the kitchen and sat down to supper. Before we finished supper we heard a quiet tinkling from the living room then a whoosh and a crash. We ran in there to see our beautiful tree flat out on the floor. After a stunned silence, we laughed hilariously and pulled the tree back up and wired it to the wall. Even though it looked a bit bedraggled we loved it even more because of the laughter and knowing what a great story it would be for years to come.
The Friendly Fill-Ins are four fun and easy statements to complete.
Ellen of 15andmeowing provides the first two statements,
the final two are provided by Annie of Mcguffy’s Reader.
My nickname is…well, it depends on our relationship or when you first met me. If you are my family it’s PJ. If you met me before I was 40 it’s Pat. If you met me after I had my mid-life crisis of sorts there is no nickname just my name, Patricia.
The first thing I ever won was a big box of salt water taffy. I was five or six and entered a coloring contest sponsored by a comic book company, Dell Comics(?).
I have never been to a prom.
Next year I hope to have completed my mission to simplify my life by seriously decluttering and giving away many unneeded possessions.
I got a late start this morning and by the time I was dressed and ready to take my walk it was in the mid-nineties. So, I sat in my chair thinking. First thought was I gotta get up earlier! Second thought was to forget the walk. Then I daydreamed a while. I do know how to waste a day. Finally, I decided to get on the computer and get some writing done. Anyway, I am joining Tuesday Chatter with my In Other Words post. You would think since I host In Other Words I would do my post before the last day but it seems I am always a bit behind. Probably due to late starts and daydreaming.
The prompt for In Other Words:
“Time flows the same way for all human beings; every human being flows through time in a different way.” Yasunari Kawabata
The first person I thought of when I read this quote was my father. He was something of a worrier and one of the things he worried about was being late. Everywhere he went if he wasn’t at least fifteen minutes early he was late. When the family had someplace to be at a certain time he would be ready way before the rest of us and a nervous wreck worrying that we would be late. He would pace or sit in his chair tapping his foot, shaking his head and telling us we were going to be late making it sound like we were breaking the law and would see prison time if we didn’t hurry.
As a child, he made me so nervous and a little afraid of being late that sometimes I would sort of move in slow motion resulting in our not being fifteen minutes early which meant we were late. Then he would tell the story about how I was supposed to be born on St Patrick’s day but I was late making them wait a week longer and how they have been waiting for me ever since. Back then I felt bad that I made everyone wait for me and became like him and worried about not being on time which meant I had to be early.
Somewhere in time how I felt about the story changed and I now see it as a sweet memory. I do try to be on time but no longer worry about being late. At least not to the point of nervous tics happening. The older I get I am less concerned about time. I try to be on time and usually am but if I am less that ten minutes late I still consider myself on time.
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