We like to think of each new year as a “clean slate”- a chance to make changes and turn our lives in a new direction. Sometimes we succeed. Sometimes our goals and motivation and opportunities coincide and we do exactly what we intended to do- change something that has been detrimental to our health and happiness or add something to our life that will lead us to a better future. I did that many years ago when I went back to college. I improved my health when I quit drinking sodas. I felt more fulfilled when I became active in community service.
As we approach a new year that will also find me turning seventy, I’m not aware of any harmful habits I need to abandon. I don’t have any new goals or major accomplishments planned. I’m more or less satisfied with my life, but I need to make an effort to balance the scales even more accurately. So my resolution for 2020 will be to do more of the positive things I’m currently doing: eating healthy foods, exercising my body and brain, spending time outside, taking photographs, being useful to others, writing, reading, socializing, and do less of the negative things: worrying, overeating, sitting.
Of course, I’m always aware that God works in mysterious ways and there may be changes ahead that I haven’t yet considered. A new opportunity or a new goal may present itself in June or September. The new year consists of much more than just January. And life isn’t just what we make it, regardless of the beliefs of popular culture.
2019 was a mix of blessings and tragedy, hope and heartache, accomplishments and failures, rewards and challenges. I just imagine 2020 will be more or less the same.
I pray that your holiday week is filled with blessings.
I pray that you have a wonderful visit with family and friends, even if, like ours, that “visit” is a phone conversation.
Remember that those loved ones who are missing from our lives wanted us to be healthy and happy. Let’s fulfill their wishes.
Merry Christmas!
I posted this last year, and knowing my habits, I’ll probably post it next year.
Reading the diary I kept when I was a young impressionable girl helps me understand the woman I eventually became. I have the little book in my safe, and generally don’t take it out until Christmas each year- a gift to myself. As I read it, I understand that we lived a life of poverty, but the years of constantly working and struggling were balanced by joyful family celebrations and wonderful school friends. I was confident that a good education and hard work would lead me to a better life. It’s gratifying to know that I was right.
This is part of my intro from last year: “In the past I’ve often marveled at how much we worked and how long we waited to shop. Today I took time to really think about my gifts. When I think back to that year and my transition to a teenager, I realize that my parents were pretty supportive of my growing maturity. Oh, my dad had a bit of a breakdown when I cut my long hair after eighth grade graduation. Mom threatened to disown me if I ever wore a two-piece swimsuit in public. But their gifts to me in 1963 were special to a young girl. A white sweater was a great responsibility to keep clean. Red was my favorite color, but much too bright for Mom’s taste. The “thin shorty pj’s” were something my best friend already owned and we wore our matching pajamas the next time I stayed with her. Cologne and hairspray were just the beginnings of having my own arsenal of cosmetics. The jewelry was from other relatives. There were no toys for me under the tree that year. My brothers were still young enough for those. No devices or gadgets…I already had a little record player and we had a television. I’m not sure what else I would have wanted.”
So…you may have read these before, but here again is December of 1963:
December 1- We went to church today. We didn’t go any where else. We’ve been so busy lately!
December 6- We’re working on costumes for the Christmas program. We have to make about 50 costumes.
December 7- We picked olives today. We got about 5 boxes. Us kids get the money for our Christmas shopping.
December 8- We picked cotton today. I picked about 42 pounds. We didn’t get to go to church.
December 16- We went to school today in a blanket of fog. We practiced for the Christmas play. I know my part real well. Elaine asked me to stay with her this weekend.
(My part in the program was one of the “readers”. We read the nativity story and others acted it out. There were lots of plays and programs and activities at Teague that year. I still have the little printed handout from the Christmas program.)
December 18- We had a taped rehearsal tonight. 6:30-8:30. Boy am I tired. My hair looked nice tonight. Diane fixed it.
December 19- Our show was a smashing success!!!!!!! We had a huge crowd! Everyone did so nicely!
December 20- Today we had our party at school. I came home and had to pick olives. Tomorrow I get to rest!!!!!!
December 22- I get to stay an extra day! !! (at Elaine’s) I’ll go home tomorrow. We played cards with Elaine’s parents.
(That last entry must have cost me some guilty pleasure. My mother never allowed us to play cards. I remember how mad she was when I was ten and she caught me playing poker with my cousins!)
December 24- We went to town today. I got all my shopping done. I can’t wait til tomorrow.
(Can you imagine waiting until Christmas Eve to go shopping? But that’s how it was. I don’t remember Christmas decorations being up until after Thanksgiving. Shopping was done at the last minute so we could save as much money as possible. Sometimes our tree came from the leftovers that were marked down.)
December 25- I got a red skirt, a white sweater, a red cardigan, cologne, hair spray, and some jewelry for Christmas. Also a pair of thin shorty pjs.
December 26- We worked in the olives today. Boy am I tired. I lost 3 pounds. I can’t believe it!
December 27- We worked in the olives again. We made about $60. I hope we can rest pretty soon.
December 29- We went to the movies and saw “The Sword in the Stone”. It was pretty good. We saw “Misty” with it.
December 30- We started Harry’s place today. I picked 79 pounds. (cotton) I’m writing a letter to Kathy.
December 31- The last day of 1963. It’s been a good year, but a sad one. I hope 1964 is better.
I knew I had missed having fish.
I knew they would be pretty.
I knew that I would enjoy watching them.
But the reality is that I needed fish.
The reality is that they are stunning and fascinating and mesmerizing.
We brought them home yesterday and immediately they became the focal point of our dining room. So entertaining to watch them during dinner! Later I was reluctant to turn off the light and let them rest.
When I turned on the light this morning, they seemed eager to see me…and be fed. And I was grateful to see that none of them had expired during the night. (Sometimes the stress of moving fish to a totally new environment is fatal.)
I’m sharing some photos today, but I know already that I will have to develop some new skills to photograph fish! Lol
Note: After Christmas I'll be adding a few more fish...larger and darker.
Recently, Gary and I were discussing toys from our childhood and how we spent hours putting things together or playing with toys meant to be enjoyed outside. I’m sure any of you who are over fifty can recall a dozen favorite toys that no longer exist, are considered “vintage toys”, or exist in newer versions. The first one that comes to mind in that last category is Mr. Potato head. I had all the parts…to be used on a real potato!
My first memories of childhood play involved rocks, sticks, and cotton seeds. I played at the edge of the cotton fields where my parents were working and I created all kinds of pretend worlds. My favorite was a “bunny town”. I fashioned houses with rocks and sticks, and the cotton seeds were the bunnies. Those early days of outdoor play were the foundation for a love of rocks that continued throughout my life. I’ve collected them, painted them, purchased them, and used them in every garden I’ve ever had.
The “toy” that kept me busy for hours and hours as an older child was a book of paper dolls. I think my grandmother bought it. The book had several pages of dolls, clothes, and accessories that had to be carefully removed from the pages. Then they could be used in dozens of pretend scenarios or simply dressed up and admired. I was pleased to Google and find that paper dolls are still made. I hope that lots of little girls are still playing with them.
My grandmother also shared her version of paper dolls- a chain of little figures cut out of paper. Oh my! That opened my little eyes and hands to a world of possibilities. I learned to cut out figures, animals, snowflakes, houses. I discovered that I could think about the shape of something and cut it out without drawing it first. When I became a teacher, I taught all of my students to cut out paper dolls and make snowflakes. There was a LOT of cleanup involved, and I’m not sure all parents were appreciative, but it was rewarding for me to teach them a creative skill.
My scissor skills came in handy for the eight years I worked in the printing/advertising industry. At that time headlines and art were cut out, waxed, and placed on a page. An xacto knife and a pair of scissors were basic tools of the trade. And once I started teaching in daycare I used scissors as often as pencils or pens.
I guess you just never know where the skills learned in childhood will lead. Despite my concerns about how little time many children spend outdoors or in creative play, I know their addiction to devices will probably be the norm of the future. However, I can’t imagine any of them having fond memories of their first tablet or cell phone.
I posted these on Facebook recently because they always brighten a dreary winter day. I thought I would share them here as well. We usually have at least one pair in the yard here in town, but at our house in the country we often had flocks of them! Thee photos were taken at several locations over the past five years.
I hope these make you smile.
I have posted these to my Family Ties blog before, but can't recall if I've ever posted them here.
These were written by my mom (obviously with help) and two of her brothers. I love to read them each year.
December 18, 1936
Dear Santa Claus,
I have been a good boy. I want you to bring me a BB gun that will hold 1000 shots and a box of shots and lots of nuts, fruit, and candy. We are going to have a nice program Christmas eve. I hope you are here in time to hear my speech. Curtis Springer
Dear Santa Claus,
I am six years old and have been pretty good especially the last four days. I want an air rifle with some shots. You can bring that to the tree and I am going to hang up my stocking and you can fill it with fruit, nuts and candy. You know, two years ago when you came you sounded just like Abb Henninger, but maybe you just had a bad cold. Be careful and don’t have car trouble before you reach Liberty. O. C. Springer
Dear Santa Claus,
My brothers are writing to you so I will write and tell you I want a baby doll that will cry. If you bring me another Kitty like you did last year, bring daddy one, too, so I can play with mine part of the time. I am only four years old but I can eat as much fruit and candy as anybody. Colleen Springer
Our little tree is decorated.We have a big one and a hundred more ornaments, but this year the little one that I used in my classroom seemed sufficient.
A pretty wreath, made decades ago by one of my aunts, decorates our door.
Our stockings are hung, just to evoke some good memories.
We’ve finished our shopping.
Mailed a few Christmas cards…fewer each year.
Out-of-town gifts have been mailed.
Local treats have been delivered.
The only things left to do are to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life”, and plan a simple meal for the two of us. We stay home on Christmas Day to talk with our out-of-state children and grandchildren. So far, we have been unsuccessful in convincing any of them to move to Oklahoma. LOL
I’ve been reading Luke this month.
I’ve been spending some time looking at photos of our past Christmas celebrations. These are from 1976.
I’ve been enjoying the family photos posted by friends on Facebook.
I’ve been feeling blessed by my own “wonderful life”.
I'm a retired kindergarten teacher and author with three children and three grandchildren.
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