Before you rush out and get a gun.....

The wonderful folks at Democracy for Bell have posted an eye-opening YouTube about what happens when ordinary people get training to carry concealed weapons.  I'm thinking of my old pal from St. Anthony's when I say please don't do this!

Buddhist Thoughts on Christmas Eve

The leader of a holiday candlelight celebration on Christmas Eve (last night) at a local Buddhist temple urged us to see  love and care in yesterday's holiday shopping madness.  She said "People are buying gifts and preparing special food to make their loved ones happy," and she said we should rejoice in this evidence of caring, even as the hustle and bustle can frustrate us. She and the prayers/chants we recited urged us to take joy in the caring and the natural beauty around us. As a Christmas Eve observance, it was one of the more inspiring of all those I've attended in my long life.

When I was a kid, my Christmas Eve observance wasn't remotely religious.  I was put to bed before my parents went off to Midnight Mass, and I spent the time watching out my bedroom window, hoping to spot Santa Claus.  I didn't pray for this or that gift, but I had expectations (rarely met).

As a postulant and junior novice in the convent, we went to bed after night prayer (9 pm), and then were awakened at about 11:30pm by the senior novices singing Christmas carols as they walked down the dormitory halls carrying lighted candles.  We quickly dressed and went down to the chapel for Midnight Mass.  It was all quite beautiful, and I loved it.  I don't remember anything spiritual about it--nothing that made me examine my thoughts, anyway.

After my marriage and the birth of my wonderful children, Christmas became something like the Buddhist leader described--my neighbors and I rushing around preparing food and gifts and decorations for those we loved.

Later, after my divorce and time in NYC, and after the kids were grown and left home, I spent one Christmas Eve with a friend who was president of her synagogue. We went to a Kosher Israeli restaurant and dined with all kinds of people, including families with young children, who were not celebrating Christmas in any way.  I learned that Jewish families often went to the movies on Christmas or ate supper in a Chinese restaurant (often the only kind that was open) as something pleasant to do while their Christian friends were deep in the Santa/Baby Jesus experience.

Now that I'm old and living alone, far from the rest of my family and most of my children, I am enjoying different ways of celebrating this time of year. I especially liked last night's Buddhist event. It's certainly made me think about how I see the world and my place in it. And I can see that I need to amp up my appreciation of beauty everywhere.

My friend Cathy showed me her sister's Christmas letter, and I was blown away by her stories and pictures.  Cathy said, "Yes, she's a wonderful writer."  and I said, "It's more than that."  Then she said, "And she has a beautiful family."  And I said, "It's deeper than that...she has a loving heart."

So at this time of year and in this time of my life....I can see that the message of everything, not just of "Christmas" or the "Solstice" or "Hanukkah," is paying attention to the gifts around and within us.  Some of the greatest gifts to me have been my family members and children and friends.  So Merry Christmas to all once again.  You have lit up my life, and I am deeply grateful.

Rocky Mountain Beauty

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUOQ_yPW_0s

Here's to all my friends.  Some of us have seen these sights, some not.  Merry Christmas. God Jul, God Yul, Froeliche Weinachten, Joyeux Noel, Feliz Navidad, Buon Natale!!

Happy Solstice!

HenCam has a wonderful post to mark today, which is solstice.  She's even written a story in which the animals talk on solstice--which is an old European superstition/tradition.  Even the Christmas carols we used to sing as kids had talking animals in them!

Here's the link!!

I love her story!  Her animals are kind and polite and loving.  Just what we need!

Merry Christmas to all!!  The days will be getting longer from now on.  I love this time of year, although I don't much like shopping and all the other stuff that goes with it.

My wonderful neighbor Shirley hung a beautiful wreath on the door to Chez Carew.  At the farmers market last week, I bought her some local honey, but I have to wrap the bottle first before I give it to her. The rubber plant is standing in for the Christmas tree this year as the Festivus Pole, and it seems to enjoy the lights!  It's even grown a lovely new leaf at the top with a red wrapper, fitting the season.  May your days be merry and bright!!

Welcome to The Manifest-Station

When reading one of my favorite feel-good newsletters this a.m.,  I found my way to The Manifest-Station, a blog by a yoga teacher who also is deaf.  (I think.)

What I like about the blog is not that she's deaf, but the question on her home page.  It's a question I've seen on the same feel-good newsletter earlier this year:  "What are the 5 most beautiful things in front of you right now?"

And I'll go ahead and answer this:

1.  The photo of my Irish friend Jo's birthday party at the Tombs 12 years ago (heh...we both looked good, Jo!!)

2. The map of the world from Doctors Wthout Borders.  It's up to date!! 

3. My dad's old magnifying glass, without which I could not read the fine points of the map in #2.

4.  The jug of wine Sally brought for my birthday gig. Still more or less untouched, waiting for me to gather the ingredients for coq au vin or boeuf bourguignon. Soon, soon.

5.  A teacup with scenes from Beatrix Potter's 'Peter Rabbit."

Be all that as it may, I'm doing this because I want to make this post set the tone for chez carew here.  Why?  I got another favorite news digest this morning, this one from FlyLady: "When Words Fail Us".  FL sez:

You set the tone for your home. Put on some wholesome television, wonderful music, or go for a walk. You have to take care of yourself, too.

Yes, it really does say "wholesome television"...but I'll skip the cynicism for today. I'm just trying to BE HERE NOW.  So....if I can find five things of beauty among the clutter on & around the wee kitchen table upon which I'm using my laptop, you can do the same right where you are.  Enjoy!

 

The Boys

(from left) John, Bob, Paul, Gene

This photo of my four brothers was on the mantel, then later in the bookcase next to the fireplace, for as long as I can remember. My mother's beautiful penmanship on the back says it was taken January 9, 1933.  That means John was 10, Bob was 8, Paul was 6, Gene was 2, and I was four years in the future.  God, how I coveted those leather boots, hats, and jackets!! (The naval gear, not so much.)

We were like two separate families, my brothers and I.  They all grew up in the same town, played in the same neighborhoods, and went to the same church and school.  By the time I came along, the family was on the verge of moving to the place where I grew up and from which the 3 oldest boys soon left for the army in WWII and then their adult lives.  

My brother Bob died this past week.  Bob was a beautiful man...the rock for many people, including his six children, many grandchildren, and one fabulous little toddler great-grandchild.  He never moved south after he retired.  He said he liked the cold and snow, and he kept trim by keeping his house in repair, baking his own bread, working in his yard, skiing, biking--and shoveling snow.  Mother Nature dropped 16 inches of snow on his town, beginning shortly before his burial.  Thanks be he didn't have to shovel that one!!

Rest in peace, dear Bob.  

One More Poem by Mary Lou

I've read all of the poems in her new book now, and here's one I like especially.  It sounds just like Mary Lou:

Breakfast with Carla

She is thinking about going out
With an actor,
A big step for her.
She's a corporate lawyer.
"I can't believe I like him,"
She says.
"We're so different."
"You may not know it,"
I tell her,
"But there is a Bohemian inside you."
She drinks coffee in silence,
Thinking it over.
"You're right," she says,
"I never realized it before."
"Well," I say, "Why do you think
We get along so well?
I'm a writer on welfare
Who just got out of Bellevue.
That's certainly Bohemian."
She finishes her salami and eggs
And I order another decaf.
"Maybe things will work out," she says.

Note to MEDIA: Sick of looking at Boehner....

And the Repugs want to stick it to the retirees again.  Balance their overblown-military-bonanza -and-low-taxes-for-the-rich budget on the backs of OLD FOLKS again??  Maybe the Presnet has forgotten his opening words on this topic after taking office in 2009:  "No cost of living (COLA) increases for SS recipients till 2012"??  (or was it 2013, and he chickened out and gave us a raise just before the election? Natch....we VOTE). But this longtime taxpayer has NOT forgotten this betrayal.

The COLA, as you might imagine, is not really based on inflation and the actual cost of living.  It's based on some arcane formula derived by the deranged (DBD) in some accounting office somewhere.  I mean, just stop and think a bit.  Did the cost of living go up at all in the years between 2009 and right now?  Wasn't it skyrocketing?  And didn't Congress get all kinds of extra pay during that period?  (Refresh what's left of your memory:  True, they did eschew pay raises in 2010-2012, but how about that $4,700 for just 2009?)  Seniors....ever see that kind of a raise in your SS?  (Mad, hysterical laughter). Do you think members of Congress ever go grocery shopping or fill their gas tanks in person?  Or get their prescriptions refilled?

There was a big kerfluffle recently about "living on food stamps" as a way to diet.  Here's a better one:  how about living on SS for 6 months?  Not only might you lose weight, you also might get kicked out of your apartment.

Please...NO MORE OF THIS TALK!  Social Security was never meant to be Congress' piggy bank.  Close the door on this one, and that means no more photos of Boehner and his new suntan and crisply ironed shirts.  Ish.

Mary Lou Lets It All Hang Out....

 The mail person rang the doorbell this morning and left a package on my welcome mat.  It's a book of poetry, "I Am Not Afraid," by my dear friend Mary Lou.  It's her first published book.  Mary Lou spent 5 years in college a long time ago (the last one on scholarship at Sarah Lawrence) and got a job as a secretary in NYC.  When she got sick, when the voices started, the doctors told her she had schizophrenia.

What with the various times spent in the hospital and the constant, powerful medication (which she takes religiously), she has not been able to concentrate enough to work--or even read much--for the past 20 or so years, maybe more.  She keeps busy doing whatever she can--in nursing homes, at St. Vincent's (before they closed it---boo!), visiting old people, holding their hands, sharing her friendly smile, generous with her spirit, which is pretty much all she has in this world. (Though goddess knows, this is more than enough!)  I met her after Mass one Sunday at St. Peter's in Chelsea, and we've been friends ever since.  In her nonjudgmental way, she's listened to me figure my path through various minor hells, and she loves pancakes as much as I do.  I forget the name of the place (remembered it--the Silver Spurs in Soho or the Village) where we always go for pancakes when I'm in NYC, but she knows the way.  She doesn't care that I am deaf.  She's wiser than almost anyone else I know.

All the while, whenever she can, she continues to write poems.  A friend helped her gather them and create the book.  It's a great treasure! 

Her poetry is fearless and sad and funny. Like this one:

You like tomatoes
Fresh from your garden
Cut up on your plate
With steak cooked
On the grill
In your backyard.
You have an ex-partner
Still living with you
Even though you broke up
Four years ago.
The house is occupied territory.
No wonder you are
In the backyard.

Or this one:

I may not write at all anymore.
I may just spend my time
Looking for artichokes
At vegetable stands on First Avenue
And lying with you
On the floor in the living room
Which is also the kitchen
Talking and kissing and laughing.
There will be time enough to write
When we are too old
To sit on the sidewalk eating pizza.

Or this one:

Mother Dolorosa
Mother of Sorrows

I come to you
My pink flamingo

I wash my hands
In holy water

Will you lay me
In the tomb?

Will I rise again
Like pizza dough?

Mea culpa
Mea culpa

Officially Older than Dirt -- More photos!

"Oh, wasn't them the happy days when troubles we had not,

And our mothers made colcannon in the little skillet pot!!?"
(Apropos of nothing other than the mind wandering to
days of yore as often happens on these days....)

Birthday Girl had an open house to celebrate another year, and Harry/Harriet the Horse was there, as Damon Runyon might have said.  It was an "up-lifting, wonderful gathering of great womenfolk," as one of the actual participants said.  It was great fun, for which Birthday Girl is still amazed and grateful!  (And yes, that is.)

And just like fabulous frosting on the cake, Linda sent these pix this aft.  Always nice to have a photographer in the mix!!  Sorry we missed the others who had left.