Ring Out the Old!

New Year's Eve. End of a decade -- the "aughts." They've been a wild ride for me, probably for most people. Some stark changes, like a divorce after 34 years, a new city, and then another move to this place, learning to date after all that time -- as I said to one of them, "The last time I had a date the Vietnam War was raging" -- then meeting the man who has changed my life so completely -- once again. Meanwhile, 9/11 came and this whole country looked at things differently. We endured the Bush years, and survived them, barely. Health care and medicine began to take a huge chunk of my personal finances, as I eased into my 50s. I had several hospital stays, new prescriptions and ailments, both minor and not so minor. I traveled the world.

A few years ago I made a bucket list and have been able to check off two of them, traveling to the Canadian Maritimes, which I did with my son and his partner two years ago, and escaping to the Caribbean, which I did with my SO this past May. Both were memorable trips. Many other things I still haven't done, or maybe found the courage to do. Still, in the aught decade I managed to see France, England and Wales, all but the mid-section of Canada, Alaska, and the Bahamas. I saw Niagara Falls. This past year alone I journeyed to or through Colorado (three times), Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, Wyoming, Montana, Florida, Maryland, and Virginia. The SO says it will be remembered by us as the year where the economy went to pot and we did all that traveling.

As a lifelong journal-keeper, I have on past New Year's chronicled the prices of certain things. It's made for some fascinating entries to look back on and compare. So I will continue that tradition:

Gasoline - $2.55 a gallon

Soft Drinks - $4.35 for a 12-pack carton

State and Local sales tax - 8.75%

Postage - $.42 for a first class stamp

Doctor's visit - $80.00 for a general checkup

Ground Chuck - $2.58 per pound

Eggs - $2.19

Soon I'll compare that list to one of my earlier lists and see how much things have gone up, despite the government's claim that we have had zero inflation in the past 12 months.

The holidays seem to me to have begun at least three months ago, probably because all the stores put things out so early. I went to the Dollar General yesterday to buy some tissue paper to wrap up the Christmas decorations. They had everything moved and on for 50% off. The shelves where the Christmas items had been were filled with -- guess what -- Valentine's Day crap. I realize that retailers are struggling through this economy, but this is getting ridiculous.

I have just about de-Christmased the house, only lack taking down the outside lights which we will tackle tomorrow or the day after. We're celebrating the New Year with friends, old friends of my SO's, new friends of mine. I'm making a quick trip to see my grandson this morning, taking him to lunch and catching up. When we talk on the phone I always feel so out of it -- don't have a clue what he's telling me half the time -- X-Box this and that, as well as all the accoutrement. He said he liked the camera I sent but hadn't taken any pictures with it yet. Maybe I jumped the gun on that one but I do know other 12-year olds who are into photographing the world.

Next week I'm getting back to work. We're both ready to, I think. For the last three days my SO has been on the telephone making appointments to see people in the coming days. And my mind has been wandering back to my children's book, and even further back to the long-languishing novel. I may have to dust it off soon and see what it's about.

And so here's to the last decade, may it never return (don't think that's likely). And here's to the many friends and loved-ones I've lost and to those I'm still blessed to have in my life. And here's to anyone who may be reading this -- Happy New Year! May there be many more, and may happiness prevail.

Onward ....

Merry Christmas -- Finally!

Woke at 4:30. I guess I'm like a kid. Stockings are all stuffed by the fireplace. I'm trying to wait until the rest awaken. The boys are here, out asleep in the guest room. Sun is up but they aren't yet. My love wanted to give me his gift last night, after the others had retired, but before lights out. A pretty diamond love knot ring. It's a bit too big, but I will have it sized. I cherish it, for the sentiment, and because he thought of it all on his own. And he "wrapped" it inside a teepee cookie jar, with a bow. I think he had the hardest time finding the perfect vessel to present the ring in to me. And there's a story behind the teepee.

When we were first discussing moving in, before we ever went house hunting, he told me he didn't need a great big house, that he'd be fine living in a teepee. Well, we found this place -- luck was with us. It had been seriously neglected, as I have posted, and one of the things that had to be replaced almost immediately was the broken ceiling fan in the master bedroom. I went looking, and looking, and in one store as I looked up, my neck tired from craning, there at the end of one row was a teepee ceiling fan. It had a "nightlight" shaped like a teepee and drawn with teepee symbols on it, then three drop down lights, laced with leather strips. I'm sure it was meant for a child's room, but I had to have it. The store ordered one for me, and I called an electrician to have it installed. This was before we had moved the first lick of furniture in here and the next time the SO and I were here together, I presented him with the teepee fan. He cackled, then laughed outloud, then hugged me, obviously pleased by the fun of it.

And so the teepee theme continues with this new little teepee cookie jar.

Merry Christmas!

Onward ....

Christmas Eve Morning

A cold steel gray dawn, with chipping sparrows at the feeder. My SO had a hard night, snorting fits, sniffly, stuffy nose. Cedar fever. So early this year. He won't admit it's allergies, but I recognize all the signs. He keeps saying he's never had allergies so why would they start harassing him now? I have a theory about that. I consider myself a semi-scholar on the subject of allergies, having done battle with them for most of my life. I think in his case radiation damage has caused his nasal passages, indeed all of his sinuses, to become more receptive to histamine production. A leftover from the throat cancer that laid him low seven years ago. He has more leftovers than just this one. Another subject for another day. He managed to get back to sleep. I crept out of the room a little before six.

It's Christmas Eve. A blustery norther is set to arrive, as are my oldest son and his partner. In an ideal world their plane will arrive at 3:30 this afternoon, and then they'll face a three hour drive in a rental car to get here. Fingers are crossed that all goes as planned. But it's Christmas Eve, and half the country is buried under a blizzard, so we shall see how their travel proceeds. We think if they can get to and out of Baltimore, things should go well from there.

The anticipation of this day has left me feeling somewhat subdued now that it's here. I think the big Sunday we had, full of people and food, and laughter and noise, has made everything else about the holidays somewhat anti-climatic. But my son is such a pleasure to be around -- I say that not just as a proud mother -- but as someone who has observed him for these long 38 years, and it hasn't gone unnoticed that he has an abundance of friends, both old and new, and an aptitude for making things fun and meaningful. He is and has always been a bit of an amazement to me. Even as a baby, an old soul in a tiny body, somehow wiser than he should have been, witty and wonderfully sensitive to the needs of those around him. I am awed that I should have -- could have -- raised such a person, although he never needed much "raising" in the strictest sense. It's been five months since I have seen him, and so I will tick off the hours until the two of them arrive.

We'll save the big Christmas celebration for tomorrow, an oddity for our family. We've always tended to do the most celebrating on Christmas Eve. But travel days are throw-away days, and we'll wait it out until tomorrow, with everyone refreshed. Daddy and his dog will be here, and we plan to cook steaks, weather permitting. No provincial stuffed turkey for this bunch. We're having rib eyes, corn pudding, and baked bread. My only nod to tradition will be the green bean casserole, or should I say, THE green bean casserole, because it's different, more substantial and better, than the one everyone else makes. Ours has bacon and cheese and bread crumbs and sauteed onions included, and no one can eat this particular green bean casserole and ever look again at the one the rest of the world prepares with anything but contempt. Yes, we are smug about our green bean casserole.

My son has requested pecan pie. I don't think they make many pecan pies up in the DC area. Or else, as he says, they "f" it up with raisins or some other silly ingredient. So I'll make that today, and maybe the time will go by a bit faster.

I hear my SO stirring in the other room. The cat at my feet has also stretched and wakened. The sky is lighter than it was when I began this. Sun a big butterscotch wafer rising over the oak trees lining the creek below our place. Time to get the day started.

Merry Christmas to all!

Onward ....

Food and $$$$$$$$$!!!!

Ham, cans of sweet potatoes, mini marshmallows, sweetened condensed milk, cheese, butter, eggs, evaporated milk, buttermilk, egg nog, half and half, whipped cream, French sliced green beans, French fried onion rings, cream of mushroom soup, cream of chicken soup, cheese, butter, eggs, chocolate chips, coconut, dark corn syrup, sugar, flour, bread crumbs, chili meat, chicken, tomatoes with green chiles, cheese, butter, eggs, tortillas, tortilla chips, bean dip, sour cream, ranch dressing mix, pork sausage, cheese, eggs, butter, creamed corn, kernel corn, corn bread mix, cream cheese, green onions, ritz crackers, wavy potato chips, veggie chips, sour cream, cheese, eggs, butter, milk, spice cake mix, candied fruit, pecans, walnuts, chocolate pieces, brown sugar, powdered sugar, vanilla, shortening, vegetable oil, dried cranberries, german chocolate, cheese, eggs, butter, milk, sugar, baking soda, yeast bread, lunch meat, rib eye steaks, cheese, eggs, butter, milk .....

When did all this stuff become necessary? Why do we wonder why our waistlines are expanding? When did groceries get so expensive? Why does Washington insist there is no inflation? Why does everybody descend on the stores all at one time? Do we really need fruitcake, german chocolate pie, pecan pie, fudge, magic cookie bars, glazed ham, fancy sweet potato casserole, dips, chili, tamales, cheese balls, sausage balls -- and all of it during a 30 day period? What happened to simple holidays?

That's it! I'm not buying another grocery item for at least a week.

Next year I'm going to the Bahamas. I think it'll be cheaper.

Onward ....

Marriage, Fruitcake, and Family

We talked about getting married, back before we moved here, and again right afterwards -- twice just to make sure we were on the same page. We have decided against it. On purpose. Both of us have done it before, more than once, and we both have had disappointments, betrayal of trust, heartbreak. Call it what you will. We have decided that we must not be that good at it -- marriage -- either of us. Oddly, because both of us are domestic. We enjoy that sense of belonging, the responsibility that goes with it, and the dedication to making life easier, kinder, calmer. We are both drama-adverse. As he has said so plainly, "I've had enough bickering to last me a lifetime." Ditto.

That's not to say there haven't been bumps. Anytime two people in the second half of their lives begin a relationship, there are bumps, caused mostly by old habits, old lessons learned hard and not given up easily. Almost every misunderstanding we have had has been because of baggage that we carried into this relationship. But even those skirmishes have been minor, talked out and gotten rid of quickly. We are old souls, delighted to have lucked into each other. We've let go of the stuff and made room in our hearts for each other. We keep each other centered. We're aware of each other's likes and dislikes. We've suspended criticism and are open to trying new things. So far it's working.

We've having a big Christmas to-do here later today. His side, plus me and Daddy. He has one living brother, and one who was killed in a car wreck 15 years ago. The living one, his wife and grown children will be here. The one who was killed's widow and her grown children and grandbaby. All will arrive around 11:00. His mother is, of course, the main reason for the gathering, and for gathering here. She had Thanksgiving at her house, and she's 86. It was hard on her, plus we have more room. So there will be 14 of us for lunch. Mexican food. Everyone is bringing a dish. We'll exchange gifts, drawn by number. It will be fun. I like his family. His son and daughter-in-law especially, and his granddaughter. I think they like me, too.

And so yesterday we worked in the kitchen together, getting things ready. He made his chili, I made a pie and a chicken dish. We pitched in together to clean up our messes. He swept. I mopped. He washed dishes. I wiped down the counters. He balked at me scrubbing the bathroom in our bedroom. "Nobody will be coming in here," he said. I get on these cleaning binges and have a tendency to think things have to be perfect. He knows this failing of mine and reminds me, gently, that nobody will care if it's less.

I have been wrestling with sleep. Excited about today, and about seeing my son in five days. It has been an almost effortless Christmas so far. Painless shopping. Easy decorating, a little here and a little there. I've baked some, but without the frenzy of years past. We tried our hand at a fruitcake and it turned out better than good. I'm not a big fan of fruitcake but I like this one. Because it was a joint affair. The decision to make one, the decision on ingredients. Neither of us like dates, so those were out. I like things nutty, he likes them fruity. We doubled up on both, and used a spice cake mix as our base, adding apricot brandy and vanilla, a brandy glaze. It's the best (I unashamedly admit) fruitcake I've ever tasted.

It's Christmas ... or almost. And now that it's here I don't understand why I was dreading it so much. Even the weather is cooperating so we can have a fire glowing in the fireplace this morning when the family arrives. But the sun is supposed to keep shining so the young people can go out exploring after we eat. And they will as they always do when they're here. In the country. Things to look at and places to wander, an opportunity to get away from the grown-ups.

Tonight, when they've all gone, the dog and the cat will lounge near us, happy to be just the four of us again. The television will be on again, the leftover mess will be only half tidied but who cares. Contentment. In our element. Whatever else may come will just be gravy.

Onward ....

Things That Matter

A blue norther is blowing in as I write this. I barely made it down to get the newspaper. The wind chilled on my way. The dog was frisky, bounding through the velvet flush of rye grass in the front meadow. The cat, skittish with the wind and hesitant about his morning sip from the ground birdbath, vanished inside before I was halfway back to the house.

Ruts have pocked the driveway from all the rain. We'll have to buy in more gravel. The SO's in charge of that project. He says we must wait a while for things to dry up first, if they will. It's supposed to rain hard with this norther, and from the looks of the sky this morning that's likely. After 8 o'clock already and the photocell-run floodlight is still burning. Birds have taken cover. Boughs of the trees are swaying, and occasionally a dead limb falls on the roof with a clang.

The house has lots of windows, high and low. It's an eccentric house anyway, so why not have crazy windows, too. The center of the house is a geodesic dome with wings jutting in three directions. The main part lies under the dome, the kitchen, master bedroom, and in a loft upstairs, one guest bedroom and my office. The livingroom has it's own wing with wide exposed beams. The sunroom makes another wing, as does the garage and outside guest room. There are four skylights with wooden spokes like wagon wheels beneath the dome, and other windows of all shapes and sizes throughout the house. I'm sure it won't be an easy house to sell one day. It sat vacant for several years before us, and this was during a housing boom. But I love it here --we all love it -- and that's all that really counts.

Home. A place where a person can be themselves, feel comfortable inside, say anything within its walls, snug and cozy. Home is one thing that really matters.

Love. Something so hard to find and hold, to define, to understand. Having it, feeling it, returning it, believing in it. Love is another thing that matters.

Purpose. Nobody is exempt from it, and purpose is the thing that defines someone. It's our job to carry out, aside from, in addition to -- or perhaps those are one and the same -- the thing one does for a living. Purpose fulfills, it makes us thrive and gives us drive. It's the thing that propels us through life. "Find your purpose," to quote words of wisdom from my mother long ago. Purpose is another thing that matters.

Joy. "We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy," as Joseph Campbell has said. It's that choice I'm concerned with, a lesson so many never learn, and one that I continue to learn and relearn: That it is a conscious choice a person makes, to be joyous, to allow yourself the freedom of happiness. Otherwise what is the point of living, if all of life is only misery? I suppose a fair amount of sorrow is required to fully appreciate joy. Who was it said sorrow and joy go hand-in-hand? Joy is a full heart and gratitude of mind. Joy is another thing that matters.

Gratitude. I am grateful for my beautiful home, and for the man I love, and for my animals, for my sons, and my grandson, for my dad and my good friends. I'm grateful for a healthy mind and a sound body, imperfect though it may be. I'm grateful for some success in doing the things I love to do, and for the promise of a future that's even brighter than my past. I'm full of hope and personal peace, and I'm thankful to be alive. Gratitude is another thing that matters.

It's Christmas, and close to a new year, a new decade, and it's seems to me to be a time for reflection and for valuing things that matter. I'm sure there are other things that would compliment this list, but there are so many that don't, and sometimes it's the things that don't matter at all that consume us, that cause us anguish, or that make us bristle in our attitude towards others, and that keep us from fully recognizing the preciousness of the life we are given.

Onward ....

Holiday Blitz

Feeling a real disconnect from my writing. I'm sure it's probably all the activities surrounding the holidays. I'm trying not to resent it, and one part of me really loves the holidays, although you'd never know it from the things I've posted here. All the pomp and circumstance, decorating the tree, putting up the outside lights, baking goodies, parties and get-togethers -- I'm still looking for a choral performance I'd like to attend. And my son and his partner are arriving on Christmas Eve. Just that makes the holidays worth having. It's been five months since I've seen them, and I miss this son terribly. He's always been my light.

And so today we're going to the SO's mom's house to help her make tamales. Tomorrow I'm making a fruitcake. Sunday we're going to try -- like hell -- to finally get the greenhouse put together. Monday the SO has an early dentist appointment to find out if he can save a tooth he has bothering him, and we'll spend the afternoon finishing up the greenhouse project. The weather is supposed to foul up again after Monday. Tuesday night a Christmas party in the city. Wednesday a doctor's appointment to see about this pain in my left foot. Thursday and Friday, house cleaning for the weekend company. Plus, we're having a Christmas party ourselves for the SO's family on Sunday. His son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter will be down again. Then four days later, it's Christmas Eve. When could I possibly work in any writing time?

Yesterday we learned that dear dear friends are going to be alone for the holidays. I suggested last night that we invite them over for Christmas Eve. The SO didn't seem receptive to the idea, but I'll work on him a little more. This is his lifelong friend who was in a coma a couple of months ago. I'm crazy about him and his wife, and I understand about lonely Christmases. They stopped in last night. They were over here having dinner at our nearest restaurant, and also doing some shopping. They stayed a couple of hours. My SO was squirming for them to leave after the first hour. He hadn't had any supper and they were hardly down the driveway before he was in the kitchen whipping us up a meal. I love that he takes these matters into his hands, gets what a stove is for, and will cook up something without prompting. He's lived alone much of his life and is quite self-sufficient.

I think my kitty isn't feeling well. He takes it in spurts. Maybe the cold weather has his little old bones aching. All he wants to do lately is lay on my lap, or cuddle up next to me. Not that I mind a cuddling kitty, but I do hate to have to dump him out of my lap to get my next project done. Oh, to just slow down a little. I haven't even tended to all the freeze damaged plants in the yard. We need to have a load of gravel hauled in for the driveway. I've still got packages to wrap and get in the mail. And Christmas cards to send. It's just never ending right now. Then mid-January, it's off to Denver again. I WILL take the laptop this time. I'm beginning to long for some down-time, to get lost in the writing again. It will happen. Soon. I promise myself.

Onward ....

Killing Frost

It's been a week since I posted here. A busy one, too. I've hardly had a minute to stop to think let alone actually put some words down. First it was going to the Coast to batten things down for the bad weather we were expecting. While we were there we had breakfast with my aunt and uncle and visited for two hours aboard their sailboat. They were about to move the boat to a different harbor to watch a lighted yacht parade. The weather turned against them, though, and they never made it there. We had originally planned to go along, and we're glad we didn't. They got as far as the ship canal and decided the wisest thing would be to turn back. So I think they missed the parade as well, but at least everybody stayed safe.

We had snow flurries on Friday. Highly unusual for early December in this part of the world. Along with all the other unusual climate events that have been happening over the last decade, I think the case for climate change is pretty well clinched. We stayed in and put up the Christmas tree. I made some 9-bean soup with the Thanksgiving ham we had leftover from my SO's family gathering last Saturday. It was good but it made gallons. We froze some, and took some to Daddy. We're going to have to have a smorgasborg of leftovers from the freezer soon. We've been labeling things, but I was looking this morning at all the little containers in there: stuffed cabbage, shrimp carbonara, etoufee, cowboy stew, Bahamian rum cake slices, orange spice cake slices, corn pudding. It will be a mini-feast when we finally do dive into all this food.

In fact, I'm getting kind of tired of all the eating we've been doing. Both of us need to lose weight, me more than him, and we've both been saying we planned to lose at least ten pounds before Denver the second week in January. Obviously, that's not going to happen. I need to pull out the treadmill but don't seem to ever find the extra time it would take to get on the thing and spend a half hour. I guess I'm not dedicated to it at the present moment. I look enviously at all the clothes in my closet I cannot wear but for some reason that just hasn't been enough of an incentive. I guess I'm just destined to struggle with this from now on.

The cold weather took its toll on the flora outside. After a record low of 26 for the day, we ventured out to survey the damage. The esparanza at the end of the patio looks as if it might be dead. The foilage and flowers are dark green mush now. I'll keep an eye for bark damage, but think I might have to chop this one off at the ground. The pecan tree lost all its leaves overnight and they blanketed the part of the driveway where they fell. Out on the long part of the drive, two durantas I planted in the spring look to have fared about as well as the esparanza, and most disturbing, the three little crepe myrtles we have babied along since we moved in, through last winter and this summer's serious drought, also look like they're swabbed in green mush. I had the foresight to bring in the gorgeous bougainvillea basket and it actually seems to be thriving in the sunroom, but I'm sick over these losses. First it was the drought, then the roofers, and now this freak snowstorm.

However, when you're dealing with three acres, there's just no way to save everything. On a positive note, the rye grass the SO planted is lush and green and seemed to repel the killing frost that lay on all the rest of the ground yesterday morning.

Meanwhile, three more volunteers have read the children's book. It's always odd to see the different perspectives one reader will have from another. I have a tendency to doubt myself, and am often too ready to make changes against my better judgment. I did that and the very next reader complained about some of the new changes. So I'm back to the original and just a little confused. The third readers were parents of two preschool children. I probably got the best feedback from them. But I'm going to let the thing set for a while yet. The book is however, 99.9% finished, and at this point, any changes I make will be minor. I plan to get the manuscript into a submissions format, and send it off the first week in January. It's time for the thing to fly or fail.

Onward ....

Woe Is the Holidays

I've read about the "holiday effect" on mortality rates. Statistics from a study done in 2004 show that death rates spike during the holidays by as much as 12 percent over other periods of the year. Explanations given are overeating and postponing needed medical care until after the holidays are over. But I also believe melancholia is a reason for the increase in death. I personally have already begun to fight with bouts of a creeping melancholy that often comes over me as this time of year approaches. It's a lifelong problem I've had to deal with, for some reason.

My grandmother suffered terrible depression during the holidays, but she had just cause. Her first child died in infancy at or near Christmas Eve, and it was a black memory she was never able to shake. And in fact, she herself died on Christmas Eve. I find that during the holidays I miss her more than at other times of the year. I long for those long-ago family gatherings, singing carols and eating around her table, my grandfather handing out the presents piled so excitingly high beneath the tree whose limbs were dwarfed by comparison.

I miss my childhood. I miss my grandparents, and my mother. I miss other people who have died or gone missing from my life. Around the holidays I find that I become a sadsack, longing for the ghosts of Christmas past. Or something like that.

My dad has a thing he says about making new memories, and I know it is true. Every day we're making memories, and there will probably come a time when more recent memories cause me melancholy. They already do. Just this morning I laid in bed yearning for the newness of last year's Christmas, the excitement of our first Christmas spent together, here in our house, the relish the SO got from hanging lights outside, designing the display, and so diligently turning them on each night at dark. He was super excited by Christmas and it was fun to watch him, like a child, glorying in the decorated tree in the corner, his first one in 17 years, he said. We hung stockings for the dog and the cat on the mantle. We made a fire almost every night.

The three previous Christmases for me had been pretty miserable, despite my older son's attempts to save them. There was the one spent in Florida, in 80 degree weather, swimming in the swimming pool on Christmas Eve, which somehow didn't feel right. Neither did the absence of almost all the other "traditions." Me and my SO were new and his phone calls caused a yearning I fought hard to overcome. But that Christmas was an improvement over the previous two ruined ones, when my marriage was coming apart, and when divorce was impending.

Before that, well, there had been many big family gatherings, immediate family and extended family: the year it snowed and we built a snowman at midnight, the year we rented a cabin in the mountains of West Virginia, the year my grandson was born and we all lavished gifts on a baby who could just barely sit up, the year he spent Christmas Eve in the hospital with pneumonia, the year Mother was sick with cancer, the year my dear mother-in-law was in the nursing home, the years of the kids growing up, turkey dinners, cookie-baking and candy-making, nights playing Santa Claus till nearly dawn, and before that, me with a child in my belly and great hope for the future.

The holidays are a marker for the passing of the decades, the changes a person's life takes, for all the memories which seem to be felt so much more acutely than at other times. And mine have often been messy, both my life changes and my holiday memories. It's easy to fall into despair over the missed chances, the mistakes made, the great disappointments, and yes, the betrayals. All of those emotions are also in the mix of the holidays.

Maybe the key to getting through is to recognize that the holidays are, after all, just another time of year, another day, a week, a month. It's partly because of when they fall, just as the season is changing, dead leaves on the ground, the world fading to shades of brown and gray. Birds are mostly gone. Flowers have stopped blooming. And it's also because they go on for so long, added to by the in-your-face advertisements and the way Christmas decorations go up in stores before Halloween now. What happened to carolers? Where have the greetings of "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" gone? And people shop all year now, so it's really not a big deal to give and get anymore either. I miss hearing a school choir. Maybe I should find one and go listen. They're bound to still have Christmas concerts somewhere.

I guess it is what you make it. Memories should be a happy thing instead of a longing. Yesterday morning my SO said when I'm down I bring everything around me down, too, because it's such a contrast from my usual laughter and sunny outlook -- his words not mine. He said I don't wear depression well. It shows so obviously on me. I asked him for help, to remind me how important it is to live each day for its own sake, for the gift it is and for the time that will never be recaptured. He said he wants an easy button to push. Love is compromise. So OK -- I'm searching for that easy button to give him.

Thank God for this man, for his patience and soft touch. I owe it to him to find a way through my holiday woe. I will try harder -- beginning today.

Onward ....