Tag Archives: Christmas

Grandma’s Last Christmas

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Grandma’s Last Christmas

Something took apart my beanie, ripping seam from seam,
stealing my favorite panel for its evil scheme.
Dad’s boxers and Mom’s flowered blouse likewise disappeared.
Our baby sister’s blankie the next thing commandeered.
Mother’s apron, then a snip from her wedding dress,
taken from an inner seam, so who would ever guess?
And who would even notice Father’s tie now missed an inch?
Was there no sacred item that they were loath to pinch?
Auntie’s favorite hanky. Uncle’s tobacco pouch.
Grandma’s antimacassar that graced her threadbare couch.
Grandpa thought the moths had been at his old red flannels,
and several of our curtains were missing parts of panels.

All of us superstitious about what we’d next lose,
a semi-official inquiry offered no clear clues.
Sister’s last year’s prom dress was the next sacrifice.
Was it a new type of moth? Was it rats or mice
operating with precision, taking a tidy square?
What creature did its robberies with such exquisite care?
A year passed and another year. We began our defections
as our lives led us here and there in various directions.
Home again for Christmas, then off again to lives
involving universities and jobs and kids and wives.
Until that special Christmas, gathered at Grandma’s bed,
with Grandpa at the foot of it and Mother at the head.

We kids gathered around each side, except, that is, for one.
That was the year that Sis had said she could not join the fun.
Our husbands, wives and girlfriends did not quite fill the space.
Not one of all our children quite made up for that face
missing in the middle. That favorite of all.
That special pesky sister, sliding down the hall
on a purloined skate board, or filching Halloween
candy from the sack you’d saved. Center of every scene
that involved tricks or mischief, yet only bent on fun.
No mean bone in her body. Not a single one.
We’d sung Gram’s favorite carol, and, about to sing one more,
we heard a footstep in the hall. A creaking of the door.

A cloth-swathed creature leaped at us, then swirled it overhead.
It settled over Grandma, resting lightly on her bed.
It was a quilt of many fabrics, many colors, many shapes
made of communion dresses, knickers and wedding capes,
prom dresses and baby blankets, doilies, curtain panels,
and right there in the middle were Grandpa’s old red flannels.
I found my purloined beanie and a boy scout badge I’d missed.
I even found a scarf I stole from the first girl I’d kissed.
We all gathered around it, and stories fell like snow
upon this quilt that told them all, and on Grandma below.
We ate our Christmas dinner gathered around that quilt.
Everyone so careful that not a crumb was spilt.

Grandma with her bed tray, fingered now and then
a scrap of cloth that told another story of back when.
We should have known, of course, that our sister was the schemer.
What other one among us was such an inventive dreamer?
She knew the time would come when, scattered far apart,
something would be needed to rejoin our family’s heart.
We had no idea then that what seemed a dereliction
was  a noble enterprise, founded on her conviction
that our family history must somehow be recorded.
She kept her project secret from us, lest it be aborted.
All our buried memories needed to come to light,
so she bound them all together, in stitches neat and tight.

The prompts today are deep, official, light, conviction and bean.

Christmas Day: Coloring, Singing, Strumming.

 

Click on any photo to enlarge all.

This morning as I did my blog, Christina and Fred worked diligently on their music, but earlier I had awakened to find her having a great time completing a task I’d set out for her the night before.  A few days before, I’d colored one of the wonderful drawings Ansley had drawn for Isidro and me in thanks for our using her and her family for the models for our newest book, “Sunup Sundown Song” and for dedicating the book to her. In the picture I’d colored, I was riding the pig, Isidro was on the goat and Ansley was on the elephant.  In the one I’d left for Christina to color, I think I was standing on my hands on the surfboard, Ansley was in the water and Isidro spread out at rest on the tree, but I’ll leave it to Ansley to tell me if I was right. Her drawings were just too much fun to resist coloring them in.

Later, we had Xmas dinner and played Mexican Train, but I was too busy to remember to take photos.  Our friend Gloria came to spend the day with us. A wonderful time, all-in-all.

Holiday Visitors

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Holiday Visitors

I’m playing host this holiday. Prospects are in the air.
Christine is at the table and Fred is up the stair.
She’s making lovely art and he’s sawing rhythmic dreams.
Everybody’s active on this Christmas morn, it seems.

The dogs are pacing jauntily. The air is crisp and still.

They’re hoping I’ll give them a treat. There’s a good chance I will.
The carcass of a chicken and the scraps from last night’s feast
would make a lovely picnic for a canine beast.

I’m putting words together when I should be giving pats.
They knock against the doorframe. They fidget on their mats.
I can hear the scraping of Fred’s key in the door.
It’s a human intervention. He’s advancing ‘cross the floor.

The dogs are his companions. They’re demanding my attention.
Christine joins in with their demands. I give in to the tension.
I’m going to have to socialize with people I can touch,
and I admit it’s company I enjoy very much,

But still I had to come here to spend some time with you
bloggers and Facebookers and you Tweeters, too,
for daily keeping company and keeping me on track.
I’m going to the real world now. Tomorrow? I’ll be back.

IMG_6684Fred woke up and is writing his poem, Christine got her picture colored. 

IMG_6694Diego got his treat and Morrie got his ball thrown.  All is right with the world.

Merry Xmas!!! Happy Hanukkah!  Joyful Kwanzaa.
xoxooxooxox

 

 

The prompts on this Christmas day are host, discovery, love and holiday.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/25/rdp-tuesday-host/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/25/fowc-with-fandango-discovery/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/25/your-daily-word-prompt-love-December-25-2018/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/25/holiday/

Tropical Christmas Agenda

 

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Tropical Christmas Agenda

I’m tired of snowy and of cold.
I prefer weather less bold.
Forget the frost. Forget the ice.
Some trade winds would be rather nice.
Sand and surf would hit the spot
in a place where snow is not.
More intrigue near the steaming beach.
Romance is somehow more in reach,
perhaps because sans scarf and mitten
the chance for one to be more smitten
over vast amounts of skin
creates a greater chance of sin.

And so, so much for Nordic pleasures.
I prefer the island treasures
of a fresh pina colada
over the yada yada yada
of another Christmas season
so devoid of charm and reason.
Keep your presents and your nog,
your carols and your Yule log.
I choose a hammock and a book
and swimsuit for my Christmas look.

The prompt words are intrigue, snowy and frost.  Here are the links:
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/23/fowc-with-fandango-intrigue/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/23/your-daily-word-prompt-snowy-December-23-2018/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/23/frost/

Believe

I can’t answer the prompt “Believe” without rerunning this blog from a few years ago. Go HERE to see it.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/21/your-daily-word-prompt-believe-December-21-2018/

Tree Trimmings, Dec. 16, 2018

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I bought this little ornament in China in 1979. Its face is silk and the rest is hand knitted and assembled. Exquisite workmanship. I bought a box of 8 or 10 of these ornaments, each different. Many I’ve given away over the years, but I have at least three left. I had purchased other wonderful little silk beaded animals when I was in Hong Kong in 1968 and still have some of those as well. I’ll be showing an ornament a day until Christmas.