An "Old World" Christmas Gift

A few Christmases ago, my oldest son Christopher surprised me with this ornament of an "Old World" themed Father Christmas/St. Nicholas-ish/Santa Claus ornament.

I say "Old World" because of its theme, design, colors, mood - and because it reminds me of my "Old World," when I was a young mother teaching my year-old son about the spirit of giving, especially during Advent and the Christmas season.

I'd been reading "The Year and Our Children" by Mary Reed Newland, which became the foundation for teaching my children through many experiences how to develop a relationship with God and live the liturgical year.

For Christopher's second Christmas (1983), we moved hanging up stockings from December 24 to December 5, and that tradition has continued to that day.

Sometimes people as parents, "Do you ever wish your children were young again?" For me, the answser is always, "No."

For the sweet reward of the fruit of my parenting labors in the "Old World" is witnessing the adults they've become and the values they embody in this "New World," a world that is is always new every morning  even as we are still growing and becoming.

When I hang this ornament on my little tree in my bedroom, my mind goes back in years to the toddler in sleeper pajamas, to the time our family's faith traditions began, and then wanders through the decades as God sent more children, until I step back and admire this cherished ornament in present time.

Years ago during my homeschooling years, my addition flashcards somehow disappeared. And Christopher, not quite nine years old at the time, gifted me with a new set for Christmas, scarcely containing his excitement as I opened him; he was that thrilled at giving me something he was certain I wanted more than anything in the world.

Decades later, Christopher still selects his gifts that way, as do all my children. And it's always a joy to receive them, especially since, many times, the true meaning and value is known to only the giver and the receiver.

Yes, that's a lot to pack into one ornament. But that's good.

As we plan our Christmas giving this holiday season, let's do more than put ourselves into debt.

Let's choose our gifts with thoughtfulness and care, remembering that the actual gift goes beyond the actual item and the actual cost in dollars and cents.

Happy Monday!

Graduation, Easter, Birthdays

This weekend was a whirlwind weekend of cooking traditional Easter food, attending Timothy and Daniel's graduation from the University of St. Francis in Joliet, and hosting an Easter picnic and multi-birthday celebration.

Here are thirteen photos that encapsulate this packed family weekend

In the Eastern Orthodox Church, the first week after Easter is called Bright Week. So today is Bright Monday. Even if today is gray, I pray the day shines brightly in your hearts and spirits.

Happy Monday!

"Feels Good to be Queen"

Yesterday my oldest son stopped by the house with a Mother's Day present from him and Jennifer.

Inside were...coffee mugs!

But not just any coffee mugs.

These coffee mugs acknowledge my rightful place in the home (wink).

See? Note the crown.

And the term of the reign.

Best of all, they are microwave and dishwasher safe.

As any queen mugs should be. 

A Late Birthday Present From Christopher

 A couple of weeks ago, Christopher made a surprise stop at my house with Zechariah and Martha (his two youngest children) to present me with a late birthday present.

Now if you think this is a silly present from a nearly forty-year-old son to his sixty-year-old mother (as judging by the photo), let me share the back story first.

My sister and I each had an alligator soap dish when we were very, very young (young enough that my mother bathed us together). 

By the way, the top of the alligator's head has a tiny hole, great for filling the 'gator up with water to squirt over sibings.

I'm not certain what happened to my sister's alligator, but mine sat on the bathroom sink of all the homes in which my children lived before they moved into homes of their own.

When we lost the final house in Channahon in 2013 (my husband had dementia), the alligator went to its final resting place in the trash, as it had become quite dry rotted.

So you can imagine my surprise when I opened the box!

Christopher apologized for the late gift, saying it had taken him awhile to find one that was in great shape.

The one he ordered came with this raccoon, which we never owned. I gave it to Rebekah because it looked like the type of item she would enjoy. And she does!

Christopher also pointed out the the 'gator's water hole to Zechariah, explaining it was great for dousing siblings with water.

Now, I don't like leaving shower supplies in the shower (an empty shower is easier to clean), but I've made an exception for the alligator.

And this alligator does his job just as well as his predecessor.

A Surprise Gift From Christopher

A couple of weeks ago my oldest son Christopher, who now stands at 6'10" and turns 39 today at 1:28 p.m., stopped at the house with a package.

I interviewing someone over the phone, so Rebekah answered the knock at the door. Inside was this little book.

I had sent Christopher the link over the holidays when I'd found a copy on eBay, thinking he might like one of his own, to read to his children or as a keepsake for himself. I had no idea he'd buy it for me.

I'm not certain what happened to my version. It may have been lost when we lost our house in Channahon. Or it may still be packed up in one of the boxes of items we wound up keeping.

But at any rate, the book Christopher bought was a book from my childhood, embellished with crayon scribbbles I don't recall making.

Its copyright is 1951, ten years before I was born, so I'm not certain how my parents acquired the book or how it came to me.

It wasn't one of my favorite books as a child. But it was a perfect book for me to read to Christopher during Advent of 1983, when he was just a year and a half old.

It introduced Christopher to the nativity story but also to the music of writing. The opening lines read:

Gray donkey stook very still.

One long gray ear was up.

One long gray ear was done.

It wasn't long before Christopher could recite some of these lines while I was reading them.

Here are some of the book's interior images. Take special note of the last one.

http://themarlowebookshelf.blogspot.com/2012/12/jesus-little-new-baby.html

Because I should also mention that when I was introducing Christopher to the nativity story, I was also expecting Sarah.

So I was introducing Christopher not just to the baby who was the savior of the world, but that God was blessing our own family with a baby and that he was to become a big brother.

After Sarah was born, and during the times I held her, Chirstopher would tell me I was "holding my precious baby in my arms."

I am certainly no "Blessed Mother."

But I am certainly a "blessed mother."

Just Don't Attach a Photo

So it seems whenever my computer goes through an update during the night, it has an issue with attaching and uploading photos.

Attaching and uploading photos is a big part of my early morning routine, since I'm answering emails, scheduling social media, putting photos into the system for stories due later in the day, etc.

So when I randomly have this issue in the early morning when I scarcely awake, I wind up having to troubleshoot and restart the computer (sometimes a few times), which puts the whole day behind.

This morning, I had an idea.

I'll just have emails ready to go (draft form), social media posts ready to go and just NOT attach any photos.

Then while I'm making breakfast, I'll put the computer through a restart. And then I'll attach photos and press "send."

This only took me half a year to figure out.

It's not a solution. It doesn't fix the issue (I really need Christopher for that). And it's certainly not the blog post I wanted to post today.

But it does keep the morning on track. As long as I keep making a conscious effort to not attach or upload photos (It's amazing how much I do automatically. Good habits are great - until you have to change it up).

So if you're reading this post and see a photo, you'll know the problem is resolved for today.

In The Cold Frosty Morning

At 5:30 this morning, I received the following text from my oldest son Christopher:

"If you go outside in the southwest is the crescent Moon. To the left in the 9 o'clock position you can see Venus with the naked eye."

So I grabbed my coat and shoes and phone and trudged down the stairs and out the door.

I had to walk a bit for a clear view past the power lines and trees.

But there it was, just as he said, and I told him so.

He replied, Nice. I was worried about light pollution since it's so faint."

It was a beautiful start to the morning. 

Illustration by Christopher Gleason for "Staked!" Follow him at artworkbytopher.com.

Daniel and the Puzzles

Strange as this sounds, when I was expecting my first child in 1981, I had a dream about all six of my children.

Although I did not dream them with one hundred percent accuracy, the overall details are there.

Except for being blond and not as tall, Christopher, physically, comes pretty close to the way he looked around age ten to twelve.

I dreamed of Sarah with hair down to her waist (which she has), talking animatedly to someone on the phone (which she does) in the kitchen of my parents' home. (All my children live in the Joliet area, except for Sarah, who moved to Raleigh about ten years ago. A few years ago, my parents moved to Raleigh, too).

Joshua looks exactly the same, except I dreamed his face a little longer and his hair curly. He was with Christopher in the small room adjacent to a larger room in my parents' recreation room in their basement.

Today, he and Christopher live near each other, one in Morris and one in Mazon.

Timothy is the most off physically (I dreamed him as a girl), but he is the most sensitive and intuitive of all the kids.

Rebekah's facial features are identical to the dream. In the dream, she and Timothy are sitting across from each other on the basement floor, heads down in deep concentration, playing a board game.

Growing up and still as adults, they've played the same "game" together. They worked together on the newspaper route, more than any other combination of siblings. They work in the same industry (culinary) and collaborated in teaching at Joliet Junior College and special work events at each other's respective work places. Outsiders have commented on how in sync they work.

Daniel was off by himself on the other end of the room, working a puzzle. He looked exactly the same in childhood as I dreamed him.

My youngest three have lived together the longest "in the same room" than any other combination of siblings. Meaning, they have lived together as a unit together longer than any other combination of their siblings.

One of Daniel's favorite childhood occupations was working puzzles.

And that is true today.

Actually, except for the fact he is sitting at the kitchen table, he was in this same position when I dreamed of a four-year-old Daniel almost fifteen years before he came to be.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: George the Cat Needs a Home: Can You Help?

George the Cat Needs a Home: Can You Help?

Once upon a time my son Christopher's cat Alex lived with us. He was the nicest kitty that ever lived.

This is Alex. Isn't he sweet?

My cats bullied him so Alex retaliated in true cat form.

He marked. Everywhere.

When we lost our Channahon home, we could not take a marking cat into a rental situation. The Will County Humane Society accepted him. He was adopted in a week.

This past summer, the same shelter submitted an owner return named George to The Herald News' Pets of the Week. George looked like Alex's double.

So I went to meet George. If this was my cat, I felt responsible to help rehome him. George was not Alex, but he was equally friendly and sweet. So now I feel responsible for finding George a home. And until he's adopted, it's likely he'll reappear on this blog.

Meet George. Can you help find him an owner that will cherish him? Thank you.

http://www.theherald-news.com/2016/07/20/pets-of-the-week-july-25/a8llyp3/

Steward Setback Saturday: A Chat With Ed Calkins, The Steward of Tara

Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Chat With Ed Calkins, The Steward of Tara

It had been some time since I had updated our Irish vampire about "Bryony," so yesterday at the warehouse, while Daniel and Rebekah counted out my inserts, I gave him a quick call.

The Steward was having a less than upbeat day. The previous day, he'd quit one of his jobs, and that happened immediately after his truck had been towed. Of course, Ed had no money to release his vehicle or to get home, which left him in a bit of a predicament.

Yet, what was uppermost in his mind was the future of his immortality, so this I was eager to share. He immediately began talking about pre-orders; he will need at least twenty books, but promised to email the exact amount.

Ed can't wait until October 14th's Vamp Fest, since the best part of the book's release, for him, will be signing books and letting people know where to find him between the pages, the best and most important parts of the story, according to him.

However, while I'm feverishly searching for a kilt (Ed outgrew his and gave it away), he has more pressing issues on his mind.

Like composing a lime

rick for the scoundrils that towed away his truck.

Change of Plans

Yesterday in my post titled Balance, I wrote "And when prioritized correctly, plans do come together, even if the coming together is not the way I visualized or wanted it.'

Yesterday, I also had the opportunity to practice those words.

A couple weeks ago, my Uncle Carl, whom I've not seen in nearly a decade (although we talk on the phone a couple times a month), said he was driving through Illinois the week after Labor Day; would I like to have lunch or dinner?

Of course, I agreed. But I did ask for a day's heads-up (if possible) so I could rearrange my schedule and meet deadlines.

He never called.

So I had him on my "morning phone call list" for yesterday to find out what happened. And when the early morning because late mid-morning, and I had run out of time, I moved my uncle to my Tuesday call list.

I had no sooner done this when my uncle called: Would I like to have lunch at 1:30?

Of course, I agreed. What day?

Well, in three hours.

That was a game-changer of a Monday.

Somehow, I meet the most immediate of deadlines and was ready to leave when he arrived at the office. He was able to meet our managing editor, and I silently reminded myself to ask the waitress to take a photo of my uncle and me before we left (I take terrible selfies, all five I've probably snapped in my life).

Well, the time was so engaging, ninety minutes sped away. I enjoyed myself so much, it never occurred to me to chronicle the time. I simply lived it.

Not until after I was back in the office working on round two of deadlines, and my uncle was well on his way west, did I remember the photo.

He's supposed to drive back through Illinois, on his way east, in mid-October. Plenty of time to get the photo, then.

So I'll just have to share this one of Uncle Carl and my three oldest children: Christopher, Sarah, and Joshua. My uncle, who worked for ATandT at the time (the blog will mess up the ampersand) stopped by one evening for a lovely two hours of conversation.

It was shortly before Christmas 1985, and my husband was in the hospital (a ten-day stay) for double pneumonia. The kids were 3, 18 months, and almost 4 months.

So I didn't everything done on my life yesterday. And I probably won't today either.

But guess what?

It will all get done.

Most likely.

Mom Moments

A lot of this weekend was work.

Some work always runs into the weekend, and, in this case, I have a son scheduled for surgery on Wednesday, so some of it was working ahead.

And then it got a little busier.

Timothy was preparing for a nine-day business trip. This included flying several hours to another state early Sunday morning to launch new products at a trade show and then flying to several hours Tuesday morning to another state for nearly a week of professional development.

Early Sunday morning, (1-ish) I woke up feeling something was off. And then I fell back to sleep. Repeat two hours later, and suddenly I was wide awake.

Timothy was sick with what appeared to be a stomach bug. Except he was REALLY sick and missing this trip was not an option.

I should add here that on his father's side of the family, we have A LOT od appendicitis. His father nearly died from it; and his father's uncle did. One of Timothy's uncle's had it, and so did both of his children as adults, with one very recently. Because of this "appendicitis" quickly comes to mind.

I spent the next hour researching various options (work, travel, medical) for him while he just got sicker (sick enough that he doesn't remember the experience, and we almost called an ambulance) and other options vanished.

I woke up the next in line from his company to alert her of the situation. Rebekah changed his flight to later in the day (just in case). We got him dressed; Rebekah and his girl friend Jasmine took him to the ER with instructions from me on how to handle the situation, what to ask staff, medical history, etc; and I signed on the computer and started working.

And I felt the clock ticking. It was going to be a full day of work, which would culminate in attending an event with my family, which I was also covering for a story later this week.

The ER had no available beds, so but they did move quickly with triage, labs, and medication to give him some relief. This last turned out to be a wonderful medication for him.

The girls kept me posted.

Eventually appendicitis was ruled out, but he was severely dehydrated. So IV fluids, instructions, one anti-nausea medication, and a few hours later, they brought him home, looking sick, but with having made of the decision to fly, with plenty of face masks and hand sanitizers because he is a very considerate person, too.

I'm really, really, really proud of him.

We set up another plan and answered all questions of "what if..." with plans in place before he left. He had a few more "what if" questions over the course of the evening, and we answered those, too.

Hopefully, he got some rest and is feeling better today, which I expect he is. Not great, I understand, or even good, but better. He may decided to pass on the professional development, and no one will fault him.

But I'm also very proud of Rebekah and Jasmine.

They handled things very well in the ER and pushed back when needed to get things moving. They came home and cleaned the entire house on very little sleep so I could work up until the last moment.

Around 3:30 p.m., we left with my in-laws for a wonderful evening, all on their treat. Beautiful people. We are blessed.

The obvious part of this "mom moment" is the caretaking part, which is true, I suppose. But follow this rabbit trail a moment.

As parents, our roles shift and change as our children grow. We don't (or at least we shouldn't) "parent" our 20 or 30 or 40-year-olds the way we parent younger children. But since we're always one step ahead of them, we can, when appropriate, equip them for the next step.

Rebekah and Jasmine know more about handing ER situations today than they did yesterday.

My oldest son Christopher, who has been fighting infections in his feet and will lost part of two toes on Wednesday, knows more about high blood pressure and diabetes today than he did even a few months ago.

Timothy learned some strategic planning while dealing with his own medical emergency and job obligations.

All of these simply took some thinking on my part and some conversations with them. They did all the rest, and they did it very well.

I am a huge believer in "not giving a child a fish" - unless, of course, someone is simply too down where the only option, indeed the compassionate option, is handing off a fish.

But how much more wonderful when parents can empower their children! The children in turn can empower THEIR children, etc. And one day, these same children may make power of attorney decisions for their parents using, hopefully, the guidance they received from the parents.

Oh, and look how beautiful the girls looked last night. One would think they'd had a spa day! <3 .="" p="">

Holiday Round-Up and Social Me-dia

No story round-up today. I'll catch up on briefs and stories in a week or so. This week, I'm using up the last couple days of vacation time in strategic ways.

Although I still have work to do, I'm structuring it in a way that I'm enjoying the time, a little time out, if you will, since I have lots of great plans for 2019.

I've hung out with family and watched one episode of Futurama with Daniel as we very sloooooowly pick off the last season. And it's the only TV I've watched. (I'm a social watcher).

Timothy and I went for coffee and saw the tree light up and play music at The Promenade in Bolingbrook.

I've done some reading and hope to get some more done. (I have two books right beside my bed).

I've met with Colleen Robbins at the Joliet Public Library over Book and Bean Cafe coffee and incorporated most of her edits into the second manuscript of Before the Blood.

Rebekah has reworked the cover for the first BTB book a couple of times. We're crossing our fingers KDP will approve the book today.

I've walked, not as much as normally but I also don't feel I've gained weight from overreating (I've indulged in a few treats but very minimally). Yoga and weights need to be picked back up (get it?).

I've worked on character development and loose structure for the werewolf story while enjoying a dark roast Dunkin Donuts coffee Timothy brought me. I even found my notes from 2010 when I started playing with it. And BTW, it's called Lycanthropic Summer.

Timothy surprised me with a list of 50 more titles and story premises for The Adventures of Cornell Dyer series. If I live long enough to write them, I will use up all 100 ISBNs we ordered. I'm excited to begin working on the next one.

Rebekah and I spent a lovely Christmas afternoon working on my Christmas gift for my children when we have our Christmas celebration on Jan. 7, also Rebekah's birthday, which she gets to spend in Raleigh with her one and only sister (Sarah Stegall),  so thrilled for both of them.

But I also cleaned house on Christmas Day. And not again since (note to self: should do that today).

I'm having dinner with a friend on Sunday.

I ran around to most of my health providers yesterday with my new insurance card, trying to figure out who will and will not accept it. Overall, it seems to be fine (HURRAY!).

I've talked to Joshua on the phone a lot off and on. And two and half hours with my mother.

I've spent minimal time on social media.

Which leads me to why I posted this link about "tech fatigue."

People today either love or hate social media or what I often term "social me-dia," because a lot of the social has gone out of the usage, with the tool becoming all about "me" and hardly anything about "you."

I still like the sharing aspect of social media, the reason why I still use it for reasons other than my job.

Social media allows me to share my interests with people who are interested (or who may be potentially interested) and others can do the same with me. And then I can share certain aspects of their interests with others who also may be interested.

If social media does not widen a sense of community, it has failed. If one feels isolated in a crowd (and social media is a very large crowd), social media has failed.

Maybe this is way, except for a couple Facebook ads after I released my first book in 2011, I've not bought another.

I've not bought a Twitter ad. I've not "boosted" a post, not even when blog views dramatically declined after Facebook's last algoroithim update thing (which I don't understand) since Facebook was the main entry for readers.

I'm really not good at taking selfies and have no desire to learn. But I'm glad I figured out the basics of Goodreads last month since I'll be reading more this year.

Social media, for me, does not replace phone calls or face-to-face meetings. In fact, I stayed awake into the very wee hours while my oldest son Christopher was in the ER with dangerously high blood sugar. (He texted funny memes, and I sent back emojis and gifs).

But different tools are useful for different forms of communication. And different people prefer different mediums, so using a variety helps me connect with others by way of their preferences.

For instance, my grandkids get excited by my little monthly letters. When the post office doesn't screw up the mailings.

Here's the link.

https://techcrunch.com/2018/12/23/the-year-social-networks-were-no-longer-social/

With that, I'll sign off. My coffee is cold and I do have a little work to do.

Have a most blessed day readers, writers, and vampire fans! :)

Illustration by Kathleen Rose Van Pelt for "Bryony."

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: My Computer Monitors and Me

Back in 1998, when I started freelancing, my mother bought my first computer, a Gateway, from Circuit City.

Don't laugh.

Because I suck at math, I don't know the size of the monitor screen, but it was definitely way smaller than the salesman recommended for someone that would be spending a large part of her day composing in front of it. For reasons unrelated to this post, the computer was never actually installed until April 1999.

In the spring of 2009, still using the same monitor (Hey, it was a perfectly good monitor), a strange thing happened. It started...blinking. I shrugged it off as, "Well, it's probably starting to go," and suffered through it. Between pay cuts and rising prices, we were starting to feel the money pinch, and I didn't feel a new monitor was worth the money.

I am also the woman that wore Sarah's old snowpants on the route from 1998 until someone stole them out of our church coatroom at least a decade later (I had duct taped the holes), but that's a different story.

So in that summer of 2009, while working on deadline of course, that monitor began flashing colors and then literally started smoking. Because I have no idea what cord connects to what, I did what any reasonable technology stupid person would do: yell for a kid.

Timothy ran in and disconnected it in seconds and reconnected a really ancient monitor someone donated to our youth group. I was back in business.

In a few days, Christopher bought me a new monitor, something called a flat screen. He also bought this amazing pair of speakers (no, I don't kow the brand, only that the sound quality is phenomenal). And when that screen crapped out two years later, he replaced it with his, since he and his family were now living at my house, and his giant screen for the TV was doubling as his monitor.

I ignored the squiggly lines made by my two-year-old grandson who shouldn't have had access to a Sharpie in front of a monitor and forged on.

When that one crapped out, Christopher replaced it with a used one someone had donated to his computer repair business. And no, I don't have any idea what year that was or its size.

This past summer, that monitor and I began a morning battle that would continue for six months. It went like this:

I turn on monitor. Monitor blinks and goes back to sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat, anywhere from five to fifteen minutes with blearily sipping coffee.

Any thinking person would buy a new monitor. But that's not why I started an emergency fund. That was for EMERGENCIES, not a monitor that played games with me every morning when most people are still sleeping.

And so it continued.

Finally, the monitor was taking so long to turn on, that Rebekah (I don't know how to do such things) adjusted the controls so it never went to sleep. The ensuing light distrubed our sleep, so she covered it with a  pillow case, a bad idea, because monitors emit A LOT of heat. So we scrapped the warm pillow case, and she rested a book binder against it, partially obscuring the light.

At this point, we decided the monitor was a fire hazard. A new onbe seemed like a reasonable thing to consider.

But then we rolled into college finals and holiday deadlines at The Herald-News and Timothy's medical emergency, and there was either no time, no money, or no transportation for a monitor. And we worried that it might not be the monitor, but a problem with the computer itself.

To determine that, Rebekah and Daniel disconnected my monitor and replaced it with an old one of Daniel's. That, too, was a flat screen, but very tiny. Not sure the size, but it was small, as in manybe twelve inches small, according to one of the kids said, so small, that working was darn near impossible.

It continued this way for a couple weeks, with some minor grumbling from me.

On Old Calendar Christmas on Thursday, Timothy announced that he, Rebekah and Daniel had collaborated on a present for me, but it hadn't arrived yet. On Friday when I came home from work, Timothy said the present had arrived and was now on my desk.

Intrigued, I headed for my room and desk. No present.

I moved aside my scattered papers of notes and looked. No present. I returned to Timothy's room with one question, "Where?"

It was truly a face palm moment.

I had totally missed the HUGE monitor and new keyboard and mouse. Now I was a little surprised at the last two, since there was nothing wrong with those.

"The keyboard had missing keys," Timothy said.

"But the keyboard always had missing keys," I countered."It was a used one from Christopher. And they were keys I never used."

BTW, the keyboard is amazing, much easier on the fingers than the old clackety-clack model I had used for, well, I don't know how many years. I'm already accustomed to the mouse, and I love the keyboard.

I told everyone so on Sunday evening.

"Well, that was a delayed reaction," Daniel said as I bid him good night.

Doesn't he understand I couldn't tell how great it was until I spent a weekend writing fiction (Before the Blood) on it? Sheesh! Kids!

Illustration by Matt Coundiff for "Visage." Follow him at www.facebook.com/artbymattcoundiff or @MattCoundiff on Twitter.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday: Well, Well, Well

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Well, Well, Well

Yep, the alpha and the omega of our latest crisis and the catalyst for our recent blessing.

On Sunday night, the well gave out, catapulting our moving agenda into high gear.

On Tuesday, Timothy found an affordable, one bedroom apartment for my oldest son, right down the street from the house. Whe Christopher called, a very familiar voice answered. Lo and behold, a neighbor and relative by marriage owns it, and he and his wife are heavily into cat rescue.

You can see where this story is going, and I'm very happy, too, especially since Christopher now doesn't have to change the incorporation of "Channahon Computer Repair.

Most importantly, I was sooo worried Christopher would be lonesome all by himself. ;)

Now the cats will probably upset at downsizing, but, heck, everyone's making sacrifices. I can't think of another landlord (I know because we've called a bunch) that will not only say "yes" to the lot of them but would act ecstatic because we own an invisible fence and then give us permission to intall it on his property.

If that still doesn't convince them, I could always take them 'round to our local humane society to have a stare down at the seventy cats that would have been their new roommates. Shelter cliques, anyone?

As I told Faith last night as she lay on the floor gazing up at me, "God love you. The God that made you loves you. And don't you forget it."

She didn't comment, so I'm sure she agreed.

BryonySeries Throwback Thursday Our St. Nicholas Day Celebrations: A Few Photos

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Our St. Nicholas Day Celebrations: A Few Photos

 

 

 

Left to right: Midnight and Hope sit patiently while waiting for their St. Nicholas feast. Frances moves away from her bowl after Daniel plops in her space to play with his phone. The boys, both tuxedos--Alex and Charity--need a little encouragement to behave during the prayer. Faith had heard Christopher walk in bolted to the attic.

 

Now that my children are adults, we set a $20 limit and then draw names to see who will fill a particular family member's stocking. Everyone agrees to buy something small for the grandbabies, and we chip in for candy canes and gold coins.

 

 

Caleb Gabriel, Christopher's youngest son, can't wait to peek inside his stocking.

 

 

 

Christopher David shows "Cal" one of his treasures.

 

 

Cal wears Christopher's stocking. Someone made it for Christopher when he was a baby, and he's used it ever since.

 

 

Ronald Nathaniel poses with his father.

 

 

 

Some of the surprises St. Nicholas left Ronnie inside his stocking.

 

 

 

Daniel John never did figure out the identity of his St. Nicholas.

 

 

Rebekah Ann tries out her new hat while pulling out the next item from her stocking.

 

 

Turtles!

 

 

Cinnamon-scented pine cones for my office and a Bryony-purple bath towel on my lap.

 

 

Ronnie follows along as Daniel reads the St. Nicholas blessing prayer for candy canes.

 

 

One way to ensure no one swipes your candy canes!

 

 

The blessing of our new chalice before our church's St. Nicholas banquet.

 

 

Fifty years ago, Fr. Boris first heard about tying ribbon to the chalice and stretching it down the aisle so the faithful could connect with each other and the new Eucharistic vessel during the blessing. He realized it for the first time today.

 

 

Ronnie informs St. Nicholas he has only four requests.

 

                                            Ezekiel James, my youngest grandson, chilling on St. Nicholas' lap.