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Tag: New Year

Gratitude Monday: A New Year

I’m back after about a two week hiatus. You know.  The holidays.  I’ve been grateful. Of course I have.  I just failed to write anything down.  And you know what?  I really, really missed the exercise.  So here I go: A New Year; So many things that bring me joy in big and teensy ways. Some expected and some surprises.  A healthy, vibrant, active, and informed mother.  She inspires me to learn new things. She challenges me to keep up to the minute on politics and world news. And she infuses me with faith and hope.  Teenaged grandchildren who laugh…

Gratitude Monday #60

I had a rough ride this week.  A wonderful New Year’s celebration to (almost) end my Holiday. I still have one more celebration on Saturday.  Oh, I do love holding on to the holidays. We got sick.  The whole lot of us.  A bad cold? The flu, CoCo ended up with bronchitis/pneumonia.  She’s still recovering.  Our friend, Jane, suffered a massive stroke, and we lost our dear friend, Allison.  CoCo’s best friend from high school, we consider her part of our family. Still, there’s plenty of gratitude to be had: Sunshine on a sub-zero morning. Dazzling snow on branches. A…

A Football by Any Other Name

This Monday, I am happier than ever to greet the new week.

  • I have everything but the tree and the outside lights put away.  By design.  I intend to hold on to Christmas one more week.
  • The goodies are gone.  Today I am back to my fit-me.  Exercise and plenty of fresh food.  Oh I have some apples and oranges that want me; and I want them.  I can’t wait to trade my traditional Polish glomkies and perogies a good spinach salad.
  • I have my goals ready for the New Year.  Monday is my day to start breaking down my game-plan and putting it all in motion. (I already have a new hat and a scarf knitted from my yarn stash and three books started – one poetry, one fiction, and one non-fiction.)
  • I am full to the brim with football.

Not a big football fan, I try, I try, and I try to become one.  I stopped hating it when I got my own fantasy football team.  Loved-One is a sports fanatic.  I engage—come on already, everyone knows you pick the ball up and run until the ref whistles the ball dead.

My mind wanders, distracted by the uniforms and the fans, and the field.  Everything about the game makes me think of something else.  How can those men have such long hair sticking out from under their helmets?  Doesn’t their hair get pulled?  That would stop me faster than any illegal hold.

Sunday, I am thinking about the ball.

Holding on to Christmas

     When I was a young mother, low these many years ago (1973, could it have been that long ago?) my own mother faced a decision:  continue on with our traditional Christmas Eve celebration where siblings exchanged gifts from names we drew from a hat on Thanksgiving; or morph our Christmas celebration to something new. Why make a change?  I’m second of nine children.  As we flew the nest, we tried to blend traditions of our family of origin and our spouses family.  I craved some family memories with my own little family of three.  With only three of nine…

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