It’s a happy life…

My kitchen table at New Year’s.

Here we sit uon a New Year, with prospects for it to go better than the last, and for once I rang in the new with no celebration other than binge watching a show with my love, toasting with wine and whiskey at midnight and sharing a lovely kiss. No watching the throngs of people mashed into Time’s Square in New York, where I always wonder why they want to be there in the cold, and no party this year, not with even another couple, let alone thirty of my friends.

Because I want to help out my daughter who just had a sweet baby who has days and nights mixed up, all I need to do is show up Covid-free, so we’re being careful, and hold the baby for a while. Graveyard shift, but I will gladly take it. In fact, I revel in telling of my last baby, born at the end of November, and his days and nights were mixed also, and I had to run around with my two older kids besides. When my husband and I wandered over to the neighborhood party on New Year’s Eve, the ladies swooned over my one month old. I just swooned from lack of sleep.

The best view of the creek that has ice on it this year.

I tried to make coherent conversation, but then it struck me. If my friends were sober, they could hold my son for a few hours, and I had brought bottles, so I asked if they would like to hold onto him, and his daddy toted the little guy home much later. I went home well before midnight to…sleep. New Year’s Eve parties do come in handy at times, but tonight the world seems muted, waiting, guarded, yet gathered around the table again. We’re in a state of anticipation and becalmed excitement. And yes, more waiting.

Are you talking more and connecting? I know we played games on our Christmas Day, which we celebrated on Christmas Ever day, because my nurse daughter worked on Christmas Day. The day felt authentic, even though we forgot to read Luke Chapter 2 the way my father always did before opening gifts. I think having an excited toddler, with his new baby sibling along with all my kids being together, with their husband and fiancé too, made for a noisy, happy day filled with more fun and laughter at the joy of being able to spend this precious time together.

Do you see what I see?

Did you feel that way too? As if your holiday meant more, because of all we need to do to be safe, and we don’t have those casual spur-of-the-moment visits, so we find time together to be a gift. No arguing politics (it’s done!), and no arguing about food because we all brought everything we wanted and noshed all day long. And I think as weary as we all are now, it will be so different next year. Well, this year now, because I think we will appreciate the little things that make our lives happier.

Right? From meeting with friends at Starbucks for three hour long chat sessions, to flying out on a crowded plane to see my mom and dad, or greeting people with a hug, seeing smiles again, visiting the theatre finally, going to sporting events, staying in a hotel or that trip to Scotland (fingers crossed, and please God make it so), to seeing my neighbors and standing to talk to them and none of this cursory, “hi” and “cold today” from twenty feet away. And I appreciated the cookies our neighbors brought over and it is something we all look forward to, but I handed out candles to be “safe” when cookies taste better. I should have done cookies, but with the new baby and all. Ah, well, there’s always this year, right?

A wee dram with my Scottish Highland dreams by the fire.

How are you doing? Are you finding bits of happiness peppered through your week? Do you miss your family? Your routines? The sky still looks the same. I look up and realize the stars and moon have no idea what social distancing is. The owls are silent now, but we do hear the neighbor’s dogs and I like that too. The dogs have no idea anything has changed, except we are all home more. I like that cozy feeling of knowing my neighbors are near, my home is warm and we gather nightly in front of the fire.

No, it is not real, we have that at the cabin, but the gas fire draws us in anyway. We grow almost too warm, and I light the candles I bought from London. The one labeled Winter is excellent, but the Highlands candle is eh, so I’ll gift that away. And we talk. Have you discovered the magic of a zoom call? I love them most of the time. My sister organizes it, I press a button and suddenly I’m looking at my brother’s ceiling, my father’s knee and my sister’s table. They are all yelling that they’ll be right there, and then we sit, talk, tell stories and laugh. We talk about our old cars that my day duct taped together. Well, one, but I could see the road underneath as I drove. Dad told me not to look down then! Laughter!!

Getting little gifts in the mail is a treat!

The talking. The connecting as we laugh about the Kentucky Meat Shower that someone brought up, we googled and it’s a thing! I’m going to miss the zoom calls. And the connections made on social media for me this year have been so fun. My friend who lives in Nevada sent me this gift, above, when I mentioned how I love Vegas and want to go back. Maybe the Luxor is in my future. I smile every time I see that. As I hope you smile when you pass by a trinket given to you in friendship. Or by a love. From a child. We still have that.

I think we will have a good deal more in the new year, and I hope you fill your eyes with the beauty of a sky filled with stars or the soft sound of snow gently falling, muting the sounds, filling us up. We can still use these next months well, before things get back to a new normal. We can read that novel, the good one about the Crawdads. We can talk face to face or on the phone. We can gather people together in our hearts, keep them in our thoughts and always our prayers. We still have some time before the reset button is pushed, so let’s use it for good.

We’re at the cabin, so its toasty warm here.

Use these winter months to be you. Sweatpants, messy hair, enjoying your cup of tea or your warming soup on a chilly day. Read, write, because people will want to know what it was like in the pandemic of 2020/2021. Walk outside. Sing inside. Light the fire, or a candle. Tell someone how beautiful they are, and then go back to playing your guitar, baking those cookies, and laughing at the year that was. We can certainly smile knowing this year is going to be a good year, because of all we have learned.

I’m wishing you a wondrous New Year filled with all the happiness your heart can hold.

Until next time…

Deanna

Within our grasp…

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How is March going for you? I think those of us who live in the warmer parts of the nation are feeling spring tugging at their sleeves, begging them to take off that jacket and enjoy the warm sunshine. Those of us farther north are gritting out teeth while we look for snowdrops and crocuses to push up through the brown ground, or through the endless slush of grey snows. I live in the middle, so the grass is greening up (and I heard someone close by mowing their lawn this week, and no! it’s way to early to begin that) and my daffodils are blooming. But we had snow last night at the farm. This is a month of waiting.

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Waiting requires patience and that’s difficult. I even broke open my St. Patrick’s Day candy a bit early. Green looks so good after months of brown, taupe, and grey. Those grey days pull me down sometimes. You? Can you march right through a string of grey days, armed with inner fortitude? I think we all have ways of dealing with endless grey days, whether they be outside or in our heart. A cup of steaming coffee, espresso or tea in the morning helps. Coming home to a glass of Chardonnay or two fingers of bourbon is something to look forward to for others. Me? My espresso when the morning is rough, followed by copious amounts of sweet tea. And yes, sugar is bad for me, but it is my vice. Okay, yes, chocolate is my vice too. I know. I should gnaw on a carrot stick rather than savor that dark chocolate, but I don’t. How about you?

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If you’re going to tell me a five mile run followed by a green shake (not a Shamrock shake) is your pick-me-up, I will act impressed. But. I can’t do that right now. Maybe never. And if you’re in the same boat as I am, what do we do, while we wait for sun soaked days filled with lilac scented breezes?

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Several things come to mind. Bringing spring inside helps. Some prefer escaping into a book, their video games, meeting up with someone. I was on Facebook last night and a young man messaged me. He went to school with my daughter, and basically he said he felt very lonely. I wasn’t going to bring up loneliness this week, but this conversation ¬†happened. I tried to make suggestions for him, but it’s tough for introverts to get out there. Just stepping through the door of a new place sends shivers down their backs. I think we all need to cultivate a couple of friendships.

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Making the effort to join a group where you’ll find friends is vital. Join something. Yoga, soccer, book groups, running groups or just about anything you dream up is out there. Walk out your door and join. And if you’re connected, fabulous! Can you look for the people on the side? Not talking to anyone? Just watching? While your laughing away with your besties, can you look for a new friend to pull into your circle? Can we all be more inclusive? What is that old saying?

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Step outside your comfort zone. That’s what we’re told. Do something new, and grab someone kind of new to go along. I just went with a new friend to construct a rustic sign for my farmhouse/cabin. I felt like I was back in shop class, and as intimidated as I am by drills and hammers, I persevered and the sign looks okay. Nice, even. But the best part? Getting to know a new friend better and laughing our way through the event.

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Tonight I’m going to a play with one of my kids. They know one of the actors, which I think is way cool. Last night, though? I stayed in all day. In my sweats. I worked on my book, with plenty of breaks spaced between chapters. I was alone. By myself. Part of me liked it and another part didn’t so much. It really is a balance, isn’t it? Time alone and time together. Ready for a story? Then, I’m done, promise.

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When my kids were little, my mom and dad organized and paid for (thank you!) a vacation at Disneyland. We stayed in a house about 45 minutes away from the Magic Kingdom, because my dad is thrifty. He woke us up every morning at 6:00 a.m. and my brother and sister helped me get the kids dressed, fed and ready for a day of happiness. We were in the van by 7:00, parked, walked, and stood in line for early access. Then it was five hours of rides, ice cream and running after my kids. My dad drove us all back for nap time around 2:00. (I think it was his nap time to be honest.) I played in the pool with my two older kids for a few hours, and then up! and back! on the long drive to Disneyland. From 5:00 until 10:00 p.m. Long drive home. Then some relatives would visit once we got back to the house, and my father slipped up to bed, while my brother and I yawned and did everything we could to indicate visiting hours were over. In bed at midnight. Up at 6:00. To get to the “happiest place in the world”.

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I thought it was just me, feeling tired, just wishing we could spend a day at the house by the pool, when my brother whispered to me, “I need a vacation from this vacation.” Oh, thank goodness. It wasn’t just me! I adore my dad. He has the energy of a twenty-five year old on five Red Bulls. And a few espressos also. I do not. And, I need and crave time in my woman cave. Alone. Especially when three kids are with you constantly. And relatives that you love, but not at midnight. What I learned is balance. That vacation taught me a lot. Time alone. Time together. Let’s find that balance while we revel in the end of winter. Eat your chocolate or that cookie, and let’s see if we can find a bit of happiness along the way.

Until next time…

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