I Don't Believe in Humbugs

Christmas will be upon us before we know it. For myself that isn't such a bad thing. I try to ignore all the commercialism though and yes that is a challenge. For me the season isn't eminent until about two weeks before the twenty-fifth. But like the real world, the virtual is gagging with Christmas giveaways, graphics and specials. And like their counterparts, online shoppers are after bargins or the latest thing in whatever venue.

Now shopping in itself isn't a bad thing but I maintain that one must not over extend oneself too much. People, generally speaking, run on the old 'keeping up with the Joneses' method. That is not a good thing. The average household can put themselves in credit card hell this way. Whatever happened to the old adage, 'It is the thought that counts'?

As an observer of Christmases past, I have seen children, from ages 4 to 18, throw temper tantrums because they did not get the absolutely most sought after thing-ma-bobby or whatsit. I have seen wives and husbands angry at each other for weeks after Christmas because they didn't get exactly what they had ordered from 'Santa'. Never mind the singular original idea behind the holiday.

Where has the Christmas Spirit been exiled to in this 21st century? Where is the appreciation for the wonderful smells wafting from the kitchen, the popcorn strings or paper chains, and the tradition of families getting together to be together? Where are the simple greetings gone, the surprises of the yule tide, and that unbottled brand of good cheer?

Perhaps I am a smidgeon nostalgic. But I am ready for the kind of Christmas I had when I was a little girl. When everyone gathered around the table, someone praying over the feast, and watching the men in the family letting their belts out a notch. The joy of receiving small gifts from an Aunt or second cousin in England from the post office. And when the 'elf' of the year handed out the abundance from under the tree, feeling fortunate indeed to have gotten as many presents as there were fingers on one tiny hand.

But most of all I hunger for the wonder and anticipation of Christmas Eve Mass with my family. The joyful carols, the scent of evergreen throughout the church, and the Christmas Story told once again. Memories can never be repeated but traditions can be preserved. There are loved ones to whom one can wish good tidings. If they are faraway, then celebrate Christmas with special friends. Be like Scrooge after he got the message from the three apparitions. 'Hold Christmas in your heart throughout the year'. God Bless us everyone.

Catnap

I have been trying to figure out just what to do to make a living on the net. When I originally started this blog, it was going to be a part of a membership site. Right now I cannot afford to dally about with it. So I have decided to turn this into a more personal blog were I can write some of the things twirling around in my gray mater. I will succeed in business but it probably would be better to do it elsewhere. I am compelled to use this space as a place where my racing mind takes a break and perhaps gains some serenity.

I have a very close girlfriend who is moving up North and part of me was truly happy for her when I heard the news. However, there was another side, if I am honest that definitely was a little envious because she is doing it before me. You see, I have been talking about leaving this part of the country for the past 3 years. However, after being on the phone with her the other day I realized just how absolutely stressed out she was I started feeling very empathetic towards her. If I am to go ahead with my plan to move north I must impliment my common sense very soon. I know now that I must have a 'blueprint' to get from here to there. I need to find a way of dealing with the tangible things so that my inner life remains calm and the stress doesn't get the better of me.

Every time I think of making the move I become overwhelmed thinking about all the sorting, discarding, packing, and the decisions that go with that territory. At those moments I hear my Mother's voice say, 'Where there is a will there is a way'. I wonder now if it isn't a mad woman's mission to move so far away. It feels almost impossible at times for me, to be even considering the task of moving house and home at my age. Hey I know - I not getting older but better. However its another thing to tell my back and bones that sweet homely. I think maybe going slightly crackers in this instance is one prerogative. Perhaps the best thing to do is just try to write triumphantly and continue attempting to be the very best I can be moment to moment.

I need a good nap and a cat to talk to now.