Tag Archives: holidays

Final Easter Egg Hunt, 2024

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Click on photos to enlarge.

The egg hunters this time were Isidro’s six grandchildren. For first-time Easter Egg hunters, they did a fine job of it, finding all but one egg which is still hiding somewhere in my friend Rita’s yard. She provided the beautifully decorated cookies. Please enlarge at least that photo so you can see the amazing butterfly carved into its icing. That’s Isidro (the friend who illustrates my books) next to the cookie, and next to him, all his grandkids and their moms, one of whom (Paloma) was a very small girl when I moved here 23 years ago. She was the winner in a “Clean up the Lake” poster contest I had for kids way back then. I guess that dates me.  The last two photos are of friends Rita and Jere. Rita provided the cookies and the beautiful garden to use for the event. Jere helped me hide the eggs and provided juice boxes for the kids.  I was the Easter Bunny, providing the filled eggs. My neighbor David made all the darling signs scattered around the yard. This may become a yearly event. (P.S. The kids all decorated their own egg cartons to use in collecting the eggs.)

 

Santiago’s First Easter Egg Hunt, 2024

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As always, click on any photo to enlarge all photos and to see them as a slide series.

Easter Egg hunts are unheard of in Mexico, so I have taken it on as my duty to introduce the practice to two generations of Yolanda’s family. Santiago, her first grandchild, has not wanted to have anything to do with me during encounters over the past two years, but for some reason that ended today with his crawling up into my lap, seeking shelter between my legs when the doggies got too enthusiastic, and even giving me a good-bye kiss. I’m in heaven!

I ended up hiding 20 eggs and Santiago only found 15 with his auntie’s help. I told the big kids (his uncles, 14,17 and 19) to go out and look for the missing 5 and they found all but one. Hopefully, I’ll find it before next Easter. When he discovered I was having two Easter Egg hunts for kids, my wonderful neighbors David and Sergio contributed extra eggs to fill plus these decorations made by David.

We had so much fun. They were here for 2 hours. Santiago took to the search much more than I thought he would and he was delighted with the big clear egg with handle I gave him to put all his eggs into to take home. His three uncles, one aunt and mommy came. All the aunts and uncles are teenagers.

After the hunt and drinks and snacks at the dining room table, we went out to play with the dogs. Santiago, who has discovered the delight of speech and discovers he is quite good at it, kept saying ‘Water! Water! Water!” He was intrigued by the pool but when I asked if he wanted to put his feet in it, he kept saying no. Finally, we took his shoes and socks off and he discovered he enjoyed soaking his feet a lot. As a matter of fact, the last picture occurred when his mom said he had to take his feet out of the water to go home!!!

I love what I consider to be my Mexican family and Emilia has added not one but five wonderful new members to it. One more Easter Egg hunt to go. I’ll take more photos.

Happy Easter, everyone.

Absent Hearted, Feb 14, 2023

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Absent Hearted

On the shirt tails of Christmas and the dregs of New Year’s Eve,
comes a celebration only the most naive
dare to overlook and refuse to celebrate
by offering a valentine and/or a special date
with sentimental offerings—a heart-shaped box of candy.
(Jewelry or even a small bouquet is dandy.)

I advise you take my wise advice and that you beware.
If you do not mind me and sit there in your chair
viewing reruns on TV and do not heed my warning,
take me at my word. You will be punished in the morning.
Your breakfast will be cold.  Also, your spouse’s shoulder
will, without a doubt, be forty degrees colder!

Prompt words today are celebrate, punish, dregs, sentimental, chair.  Images all from Unsplash.

Humbug

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Humbug

I’m already tired of Christmas before it’s even through,
and there are three more gatherings that I still have to do.
I look into the mirror and do not recognize
that woman that looks back at me in my face’s guise.
Should we discuss those brand new lines etched across my face?
How did they choose their birth date? How did they choose their place?

Perhaps they represent my angst over this Christmas season
that somehow soared way out of hand—nearly beyond reason.
Next year I won’t put up a tree. Stow every Xmas light
up in my spare room closet, safely out of sight.
I won’t say Merry Christmas to everyone I meet.
I’ll fly down to Bermuda and complain about the heat.

I’ll stay in a four-star hotel and won’t regret the tab.
I’ll forget my seafood allergies and dine on shrimp and crab.
Or perhaps I’ll go to Paris and scale the Eiffel Tower,
then sit in a sidewalk restaurant, my expression bored and dour.
My Christmas will be different. Perhaps I’ll dine on horse,
swearing when I’m finished that I’ll have no remorse.

Wherever I might choose to go, whatever choice I make,
I will not trim a tree, no Yuletide spirit will I fake.
I won’t bake star-shaped cookies dozen after dozen
or debate on what to buy for any second cousin.
I’ll make no trips to Walmart, braving holiday masses.
I’ll simply get my Yuletide cheer from bottles and from glasses.

Sangria for my breakfast. Tequila served with lunch.
Mid-afternoon martinis drunk with the cocktail bunch.
No over-saturation with holiday excesses.
No presents piled under the tree and wrapping paper messes.
If I have a hangover, it will be gin or port.
No light strings to untangle. No ornaments to sort.

Then, after all is said and done, the truth will be, I fear,
that my Christmas spirit will re-emerge next year.
For, New Year’s resolutions, as firm as they may be,
seldom last throughout the year. Somehow they seem to flee.
And so it is with Christmas. Much as we try to beat it,
It seems that every year we are destined to repeat it.

 

Prompt words today are birth, discuss, nearly, gathering, represent and mirror.

Christmas Colors

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Merry Xmas favor for my brother-in-law Jim

Click on photos to enlarge.

 

For Life in Color: Bright

Remembering Grandma at Christmas

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Remembering Grandma at Christmas

The years have chosen to abrade
the paper angel Grandma made
that year when Christmas cheer was thin,
because for weeks we were snowed in.
Even Santa ceased his action
for his reindeer had no traction.

Weeks of snow and sleet and fog
even kept the catalogue
from providing a Christmas doll
when Santa couldn’t come at all.
And so the holidays that year
did not reflect our usual cheer.

No tree, no lights, no heavenly choir,
our only heat a roaring fire.
We kids complained to Mom and Dad
and by Christmas Eve, they’d had
as much of kids as they could stand
and that’s when Grandma took a hand.

Her silver scissors nipped and flew
creating something that was new—
a Christmas angel feathery light
that floated that December night
above our heads in fire glow,
hung by a string, rotating slow

around the room with wafting wings
descending from above on strings.
And from the dark a heavenly song
prompted us to sing along.
My Grandma led, with timorous voice
that song that always was her choice:

“Silent night, holy night!
All is calm, and all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.
Holy infant so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace.”

One by one, we entered in,
our voices first halting and thin,
but when my Grandma chimed a bell,
our family choir began to swell
up to the ceiling, throughout the room,
dispelling darkness, cold and gloom.

Mom made cocoa on the coals
while Dad made popcorn, filling bowls
we strung on thread to deck our halls
from curtain rods to lamps to walls,
along with paper snowflakes that
twirled on their strings to tease the cat.

In the firelight’s magic glow,
they made things magical and so
every normal Christmas since,
we love our turkey and pies of mince,
Christmas presents to poke and squeeze,
bubble lights and towering trees,

but what’s most special is when Pop
puts Grandma’s angel on the top
of the tree covered in flakes
and popcorn strings the family makes.
And when we sing her special song,
if angels sing, she’ll sing along.

Prompt words today are angel, lover, abrade, traction.

Hopeful Holidays

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Hopeful Holidays

In almost every culture, at least once every year,
there is some celebration that brings on belly-cheer.
So bring out the turkey, the cranberries and beer.
Commence that over-eating that we all hold dear.

Over-feeding is a statement, a type of family caring,
as are the ugly Christmas sweaters you seem to be wearing.
After all the wrapping up comes all the paper tearing,
all the boxes opening and all the surprise-baring.
Then we dedicate ourselves to other acts of daring,
be it ham or goose or turkey, lutefisk or herring.
Lucky, lucky people to have family for bearing:
Aunt Stella’s time-worn stories and Uncle Herman’s swearing.
Each of us just wondering how far-flung friends are faring.
Here’s hoping you have friends and family with whom you are sharing.

Even though we may have  masks spread out from ear-to-ear,
let’s end the year departing from these months of constant fear
to shift our expectations into a higher gear,
hoping 2021 turns out to be less queer!!!

 

Prompt words today were caring, lucky, dedicated and belly-cheer.

Merry Christmas everyone. Treasure your families, even in their absence.
This, too, shall pass.  xooxox

Festive Is

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Festive Is

. . . ribbons and candles and holly.
Christmas trees, parties both raucous and jolly.
Confetti in hair and the nerve to kiss boys
beneath the mistletoe, and other joys.

Presents and eggnog and wedding cake, too.
Fireworks. Flags waving red, white and blue.
Easter egg optimism in the hunting,
papel picado and streamers and bunting.

Festive is hearts charged up with the living.
Anticipation and loving and giving.
Remembrance of exploits and births and unitings,
Easter ham slicings and turkey leg bitings.

May baskets on doorsteps. Socks hung in a row.
Eggnog and streamers wherever you go.
Who knows where festivity had its first starts—
Easter egg rolling or Valentine hearts?

Square dances, cloggings and Virginia reelings
end up on the feet but start with warm feelings
that set toes to tapping and make folks so restive
that they have no choice but to end up as festive!

Before presents and food and new decorations
increase credit card debt to new elevations,
perhaps we’ll remember to go back to the start
and return the horse to in front of the cart.

Our kids need to learn that joy can’t be bought,
and it’s up to us that the lesson be taught.
Before it’s too late, we must somehow impart
that there’s no charge for love and no price tag on heart.

Word prompts today are festive, nerve, optimism and charge.

Tough Old Bird

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Tough Old Bird

A doughty old bird, he strides and he gobbles
over the barnyard and over the cobbles.
While other birds scatter and rush out of sight
into foggy day vapors or into the night,
he has not a fear of this Thanksgiving blight
with its motifs of turkey and dressing and pie,
for year after year, he just seems to get by.
Stretching his neck out toward all on his beat,
he is lord of the manor and too tough to eat.

Prompt words today are motif, vapor, doughty and gobble.

Thanksgiving with the Neighbors

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Thanksgiving with the Neighbors

Rendered farctate by turkey and gravy and dressing,
I overindulged, I am hereby confessing.
When they pressed more upon me, I didn’t demur.
I ate all the turkey that I could endure,
but then when they asked if I’d have a bit more,
although  I was already stuffed to the core,
I said, “Maybe a little,” and with no compassion,
they piled on potatoes in an equal fashion.

More gravy, cranberries and more candied yam,
and lest they discriminate, a bit more ham.
So in that yearly paradox, they proceeded to stuff
first the turkey, then me, until I’d had enough.
And though I declared  I was ready to burst,
when they brought out the pie, although I had rehearsed,
“None for me,” in my head, when they asked, “mince or peach?”
I’m embarrassed to say that I had one of each!

Then I lay on the floor and simply digested
as some guests told stories that other guests bested.
But since I had already been over-fested,
I admit my attention was under-invested.
I tried to moan silently, but fear I failed.
In the end, I complained and I groaned and I wailed.
Yet my friends showed no mercy, but proceeded to laugh
and inquire if I’d rather have caf or decaf!

Then they rolled me next door to my own waiting bed,
where I passed half the night feeling overly-fed.
But by the the next morning, I was ready for toast
some bacon and eggs and a lovely French roast.
And I was bemoaning when time came for lunch
that there were no leftovers on which to munch—
No turkey and stuffing. No leftover pie,
so I had to make do with carry-out Thai.

 

 

Prompt words today are compassion, paradox, demur and farctate.