Tag Archives: Christmas

Christmas Explosion

 

IMG_4574

El Jardin Restaurant in the Ajijic plaza always does amazing arrangements for holidays. This collage was only 1/3 of the display.

For Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge

Holiday Decor at the Nueva Posada

Every year, the decorations at the Nueva Posada are done by the same man and they are always fabulous. He is pictured beside the lit tree in the entrance to the hotel.

(As always, click on photos to enlarge.)

For the Sunday Stills Challenge.

Christmas Preparations

Click on first photo below to enlarge all and read captions.

For the Friendly Friday Photo prompt: Xmas Preparations.

Christmas Spirit

IMG_0533 (1)

Christmas Spirit

Covering the Christmas tree, decking every door,
Excessive seasonality suffuses my decor.

Embellishments without cannot reflect what’s in.
Too often Xmas cheer’s bound up in what has been. 
If a helping hand could decorate my heart,
then the celebration perhaps could have a start. 

 

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Spirit.

Grandma’s Last Christmas

IMG_7073

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.