Take twelve fine, full-grown months; see that these are thoroughly free from old memories of bitterness, rancor and hate, cleanse them completely from every clinging spite; pick off all specks of pettiness and littleness; in short, see that these months are freed from all the past-have them fresh and clean as when they first came from the great storehouse of Time.

Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one equal parts. Do not attempt to make up the whole batch at one time (so many persons spoil the entire lot this way) but prepare one day at a time.

Into each day put equal parts of faith, patience, courage, work (some people omit this ingredient and so spoil the flavor of the rest), hope, fidelity, liberality, kindness, prayer, meditation, rest (leaving this out is like leaving the oil out of the salad dressing-don’t do it), and one well-selected resolution.

Put in about one teaspoonful of good spirits, a dash of fun, a pinch of folly, a sprinkling of play, and a heaping cupful of good humor.

Anonymous

So can I just take this opportunity to say, that if you are looking forward to 2007 with great expectation and joy, or if you just can’t wait to see the end of 2006 for whatever reason, may you have a very happy and blessed New Year, with plenty of Sunshine!

Well, we did it!

We managed to get Christmas together, be it a little last minute.

Father in Law was well enough to share Christmas Dinner with us, and Mother in Law said how nice it was to eat a proper home cooked dinner instead of the frozen convenience ones they usually eat. Now that was a bit of a back handed compliment because, I have always felt a little guilty that I am not able to cook all their meals for them like I used to. We tried that for a while and when I was working from home it was viable, but even then it was a but of a mill stone, as the life and eating patterns of two teenagers and a working mother are not really compatible with the routine of two eightysomethings who like to eat by the clock. When I started working outside the home, it just was not feasible for me to cook for them and the burden then fell to Ed who would heat them up a shop-bought convenience meal. We have now found a supplier of high quality frozen meals who deliver the the house on a weekly basis and have arranged for the carers to serve those to them. They actually eat well and Ed ensures that they have a variety to their menu and are nutritionally well catered for.

It still brought a little pang though.

I was struck by the irony of our particular three generation dining. Father in law had a tiny amount of food on his plate, cut into small, bite-size pieces, with Ed coaxing him to eat each mouthful. Ed’s plate was nicely filled and Son’s plate was piled high with a mountain of food. It really does not seem that many years ago that it would have been son’s plate that contained the small, bite-sized portion of food - or daughter’s. She would have needed her Dad’s persuasion to eat too… and now it was Ed persuading HIS father to eat, though I must admit, Ed was not zooming the food around on a spoon, playing aeroplanes or whatever to persuade each spoonful to enter HIS mouth as he would have with our daughter.

Once the meal was over, I was able to relax and we had a brief “blow” on the beach as the light faded. This is a family tradition going back to the days BC (before children) when we used to eat a Christmas meal with my parents at lunch time, and then another with hubby’s parents in the evening. It needed a good long walk to burn off one meal to make room for another!

After our walk, we continued with another family tradition where Ed acted as Master of Ceremonies, for the distribution of the family gifts from under the tree. His long departed uncle used to do this with great aplomb in his childhood and this role has now fallen to him.

And then, after this, it was time to flop onto the sofa, tired but happy, and enjoy the last few hours of Christmas day with a glass of something warming before bed. I was able to give Ed a very special Chrismas present that the children knew nothing about. All I will say here is that he really did like my new nightdress!

Today has been far less pressured - a long lie in this morning, interspersed with several cups of tea, and culminating in a luxurious bubble bath. Boxing Day in this house is a lazy day where we eat cold cuts and spend some time together and for me, is the best day over the Christmas break.

So now I am off to bed - again tired - but happy.

Goodnight!

On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes
Looked deep into Santa’s, to Santa’s surprise
And said as he sat on Santa’s broad knee,
“I want your secret. Tell it to me.”

He leaned up and whispered in Santa’s good ear
“How do you do it, year after year?”
“I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts here and there, you never run out.

How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys
You have plenty for all of the world’s girls and boys?
Stays so full, never empties, as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large and small,
From nation to nation, reaching them all?”

And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy,
“Don’t ask me hard questions. Don’t you want a toy?”
But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. “Now listen to me,”

He told that small boy with the light in his eyes,
“My secret will make you sadder and wise.
“The truth is that my sack is magic inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.

But although I do visit each girl and each boy
I don’t always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad,
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.

Some homes are broken, and the children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?
“My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives toys aren’t enough.

So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl and boy,
And I pray with them that they’ll be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.

“If only God hears me and answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.

It’s a very hard task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each person’s need.

“That’s part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could ever give away.

The sack never empties of love, or of joys
`Cause inside it are prayers, and hope. Not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.

“And do you know something? You’ve got a sack, too.
It’s as magic as mine, and it’s inside of you.
It never gets empty, it’s full from the start.
It’s the center of light, and love. It’s your heart.

And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don’t be so concerned with the gifts `neath your tree.
Open that sack called your heart, and share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care.”

The light in the small boy’s eyes was glowing.
“Thanks for your secret. I’ve got to be going.”
“Wait, little boy,” said Santa, “don’t go.
Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?”

And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand and whispered, “I will.”

Isn’t it lovely to hear the plop of a pile of Christmas cards onto the mat through the letterbox?

We (or should I say, I) play a game, trying to guess who they are from. The children used to think that I was some wonderful magician with the power to read through envelopes when I could say that this card was from whoever and then we would open in up and, sure enough, there was the card from auntie so-and-so….. as they got older, they soon realised that it was just a matter of recognising the handwriting.

This year though, I have been struck by some of the ad hoc messages added by the sender to the inside. For the last few years, dating back to a time when I was really ill during the run up to Christmas with Pleuricy, Ed has written the bulk of our cards and then all I do is add a little message of my own. This is usually saying something along the lines as to how much the children have grown and how they are doing etc etc. To old friends, I often write that I hope this coming New Year will be the time we manage to get together for some of the folks on our Christmas card list are old school and college friends who are scattered throughout the country and we have not seen for some time. I always hope that it really will… but all too often, yet another year unfortunately scurries by without us seeing them…many of them have children that we have never seen……

However, some of the addenda added to cards received by us this year have really made me think. One of my old friends who was in the same antenatal class as me, and whose daughter is only a few months older than our son (but she is the academic year above him), is applying for University and is hoping for a place at Cambridge (which is one of the elite Universities in Britain) - she always was a clever girl. This was quite a wake up call - age creeping up stealthily…

Then conversly, the daughter of a college freind of mine is struggling to overcome M.E. and has had a really tough time.

Another has arrived with just the name of the daughter of an old family friend of hubby’s family. Does that mean that the mother is no longer with us? The father died several years ago. If this is the case, how could we have not been told.. they live in the same town…..! Our card went with both names on - oops!

However there were two cards in particular that have thrown a pebble into my pool and caused a wave of disquiet to drench me.

My best college friend, wrote a little PS to her card, that said “BTW, my father died in October with Cancer of the oesophagus”. This was the same illness that my grandmother had and she would have known that. I felt sad that she had not made contact with me sooner. I would have listened……

The other one that has knocked me the hardest was from my oldest friend who I have known since we were seven year old. She is only an hour a way and we keep in touch far more regularly than anyone else. The last time but one we spoke at half tern (the end of October) she said that she was having a bit of trouble with her leg and that it was not supporting her weight and that she needed a leg brace to walk. She was to undergo some tests. When I last rang her, to see how things were, she said that she was awaiting the results but thought it could not be anything too serious as she would have heard from her doctor by now if there was. When her card came, she said that she would not be able to drive down to see us at Christmas as she is now immobile and totally dependent on her husband to drive her about etc.

My heart dropped. She didn’t say what was wrong and now I am in such a quandry. I really want to ring her and find out what is going on. But yet again, I really DON’T want to ring her and hear what she might say because of course, a little knowledge is a bad thing and I can think of far to many worse case scenarios!..

I know that I will make that call. But when? It has to be sometime today really.

Today is the last day of deliveries for the post before Christmas. It is with mixed feelings that I await that “Plop” of post on our doormat this morning…..

Why God Made Moms

source unknown - I found this HERE

Brilliant answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions!!

Why did God make mothers?

1. She’s the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?

1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers, and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?

1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other Mom?

1. We’re related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s Moms like me.

What kind of little girl was your Mom?

1. My Mom has always been my Mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did Mom need to know about Dad before she married him?

1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your Mom marry your Dad?

1. My Dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn’t have her thinking cap on.

Who’s the boss at your house?

1. Mom doesn’t want to be boss, but she has to because Dad’s such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than Dad.

What’s the difference between Moms and Dads?

1. Moms work at work and work at home, and Dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller and stronger, but Moms have all the real power ’cause that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend’s.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your Mom do in her spare time?

1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your Mom perfect?

1. On the inside she’s already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?

1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head

I think our little darlings would agree with a few of these!