One of my wood piles is down to bark chips, dried moss, and saw dust. It’s not time to sweep up the season though. January temps are getting up to the 40s almost daily with more of the same predicted. I’m not ready for winter to be over but glad to let the rest of the wood pile sit untouched for a couple of days. And I never turn down warm sun. I took the kids to the lake today and sat on the corner of the dock soaking up warmth. I was overdressed and had to shed my hat and gloves, unzip my coat. Since my last photo was so dark and grey, I’m including one from today so you can see what it’s like on the other days. Absolutely spectacular:

Lots of bare ground showing up. Kinda glad to lose some ice from the driveway, ice from the dog paths in the yard, ice off the roof. Lots of dripping going on. The icicles come and go.

“Jim’s” bench down at the lake was free of snow today, so sat there for a few too.

Coop and Sara had a good run and time for exploring. The deer spine showed up again, the same one from last year, a little smaller, a little grayer. Amazing how an old string of bones can entertain Sara so thoroughly. I had taken my skates just in case. Though the lake still looks frozen I don’t believe it. Hard freezes will be back and I’ll still get my chance at gracefulness. We were all sorry to leave today, it was so pretty – and warm!

My bucket list was completed a year and a half ago when I visited Vermont and took a fall bike ride that included pedaling through a covered bridge. Life can be so good! Since then, though, I’ve been remembering other things that I’ve “always wanted to do,” and have a new list, a secondary bucket list. Something will happen or someone will mention something on their bucket list and it jogs a memory. My friend Phyllis always wanted to horseback ride on a beach, and she got to do that, and, hey, I’ve always thought that would be awesome, so now that’s on my new list. This week someone mentioned ice skating on a pond.

I’m privileged to live in a forested community with a little lake, six acres I think it is, and it usually freezes solid in the winter time. Why I’ve never thought of skating on it I don’t know, and have never seen anyone else skating on it. I did skate, or try to skate, on a frozen creek about fifteen years ago but the trying didn’t last more than fifteen minutes or so. Water doesn’t freeze smooth and pretty liked groomed rinks, it’s bumpy and lumpy and full of frozen leaves and sticks and scary-looking cracks. There were kids playing hockey on the creek and they made it look so easy, but it shattered an illusion that skating outside in the winter would be so much fun. But I’m willing to try again. Like horseback riding on a beach, outdoor skating has always been appealing. The “bucket list” part is to do it gracefully 🙂 I went over yesterday and tried to sweep an open spot to skate in and discovered that was way too much work. I was going to take a shovel today and clear some more but then decided to just try skating on snow-covered ice. Turns out that works just fine, if you can call what I was doing skating. It was a fun test, though. It didn’t seem as rough as the creek and I think the snow made it a little less slick, so good for a beginner. I only fell down once but that was from Cooper being in the way; I guess he thought he was helping. The weather was cooperative, too. Not too cold, no wind. The best part of the experiment was running into a neighbor who was out with her dog and, it turns out, is interested in brushing up her skating skills (and the fact that she’s also interested in skiing and snowshoeing is an added bonus). So we’ve got a deal. We’ll practice together and be as graceful as skating ballerinas by the end of the season. I can’t wait to get started! I’ll keep you posted about when I can mark one more thing off my list! Life can be so good!

So the contest is entered. The contest Amazon is having for unpublished novels, that is. There’s a grand prize of $50,000 – can you imagine? There are four first prizes, for four different categories, and I plan to win the fiction category for $15,000! Still can’t imagine it 🙂 I’m still editing like crazy and can update my entry for another week. The contest came along sooner than I would have I liked but what could I do? I’ll have it ready and the judges will be wowed. Here’s my pitch, a major project in itself that required a lot of helpful input. Hopefully it will do the trick, for the contest judges and my future fans 😀

The Mitchells were a good team, a doctor and nurse from Boston, with plans to take their son and their medical skills to Pony Ridge, a boarding school on the Nez Perce Reservation in Idaho. After her husband’s accidental death, Calandra bravely journeyed west with Everett to fulfill her husband’s lifelong dream. She hoped she was making the right decision.
Calandra and Everett quickly discovered the appeal of the West, the wide open landscape and colorful cultures. Their life was good at Pony Ridge. Did it take a turn for the better or worse when Calandra fell in love with a Nez Perce man, a member of Chief Joseph’s doomed band? Sky was a good husband and a good father, but Everett struggled with his hatred of the man – was it jealousy, prejudice, or loyalty to his father? Or Billy’s influence? Grass was Everett’s best friend, but Billy was his friend too, an older white student. He was also the school bully and known for his contempt of Indians.
A school campout when Everett was fourteen turned to tragedy when he and Billy were involved in a fight, and a young Indian student named Blue was killed. Was it an accident or did Billy shove him? To some it looked like Everett pushed Blue off that ledge. Sure of trouble with the law, Billy convinced Everett to run. Hopping freight trains, they headed east, enlisting in a war they knew nothing about. By the time Everett was injured near the end of World War I, he had grown into a man, and it was time to come to terms with the war in his own heart, to make his own life decisions – first was making things right with his mother and Sky, if it wasn’t too late.

I got a real treat this year for Christmas. Actually, me and Sara both. My sister sent Sara a “no stuffing” dog toy! Every mother’s dream! Sara doesn’t like it any less either, which surprises me, ’cause usually once the stuffing’s ripped out she loses interest and I’m left to clean up the mess. And so I have to share my dog toys story from a couple of years ago, before they made this great advancement. 🙂 I hope you enjoy it:

I am the happy owner of two puppies. First came a chocolate on caramel cocker, heavy headed, stubborn, yet affectionate boy with big lion’s feet, an overall teddy bear appearance. Then came a terrier mix, a little girl with a comical face and bristly hair. Lots of fun is had by all, the puppies learning and exploring and playing. I’ve had dogs before so I know to expect the occasional accident, muddy floors, and water dribbled everywhere. I no longer cringe from bent houseplants, broken lamps, and frayed slippers. There is one phenomenon, however, that I will never figure out – dog toys.

Christmas time with new puppies is a great time and we were showered with lots of new dogs toys, the first of which was a rubber chicken. I could see the humor in this, sort of, until one of the pups started squeaking the goofy-looking thing. The squeaker was in an unmentionable place. It had a panicked look on its face, which I can understand. If I was manufactured for the sole purpose of being chewed on I’d be panicky too. The irritating squeaker was finally chewed out after about a week, and the chicken seemed much more innocuous. Sadly, the chicken was rather thin skinned and was soon dismembered with pieces left all over the house. The feet continued to entertain the terrier, being just the right size to chew on like a long-lasting piece of gum.

We also received a few stuffed toys. It’s interesting to me that fabric toys are sewn and stuffed so poorly that, after the squeaker is located and ripped out, the floor becomes cushioned with puffs of polyester stuffing and the deflated toy is used for tug of war until only threads are left, which doesn’t take long. Hello??!!! These toys are made for dogs – could we sew them a little better please?

I’m also amazed with the colors that dog toys come in. Dogs see limited colors, in fact, no reds or greens. So why do dog toys come in every screaming color of the rainbow, including odd combinations like fuscia and turquoise or Christmas colors of red and green? If toy makers want dog owners to buy them, knowing full well they’ll be scattered everywhere in the house, most heavily in the room most likely to entertain company, why don’t they make them in colors a dog mom can appreciate – a nice floral perhaps, a soft brown to match the carpet? Would dogs like them less if they came in a blue toile?

When I reported the demise of the rubber chicken to its sender, that kind person then delivered a….well, they thought it was a goose, I thought it looked like a scared vulture with long pink eyelashes but now have decided it was a flamingo. It was flesh-tone rubber, molded with a skirted white swim suit and ballet slippers. Who thinks of these things? I could see some entertainment value in this – maybe. Of course the squeaker was in the poor creature’s derriere, the first place the dog chews. Now I ask you, for whose benefit is this? This toy, too, had an alarmed look in its face, and if it hadn’t come with that expression it would have acquired it after it was drug around by its butt for days until the squeaker finally tore out, leaving a gaping whole in the back of her swimsuit. Before long I find the poor dear with that hysterical look on her face staring at her legs laying across the room.

When escorting new dogs outside during the middle of the night I’ve stepped on blue fuzzy snakes, walked around a glow in-the-dark frog that lost its legs during snack time, and tried hard to avoid a spikey orange football. What a minute, glow in the dark frog? If the spikey football glowed in the dark it would sure save my feet.

I spend a lot of time in the yard with two dogs – cleaning up, cleaning up, and then cleaning up. I retrieve inside toys that somehow got outside – they’re easy to spot with their bright colors. I fill and rake smooth freshly dug holes and replant sprouting bulbs. As I’m picking up red and purple remains of a plastic toy, I find the chicken head peaking out of the shrubs, that hopeless look on it’s face. I know exactly how it feels.

Having made my resolutions for the year at Thanksgiving, regarding health and better eating habits, I can now use the New Year to focus on an attitude adjustment. Always room for improvement. Calvin and Hobbes are my all-time favorite cartoon characters. Sometimes they are profound, sometimes provocative, always hilarious. Sometimes I get my insight and inspiration from them.

Sometimes not 🙂

One of Calvin’s lessons to me is to be a better observer. He pays attention to the world, to the woods where he plays, and to what Hobbes has to say. I resolve this year, again, to be more observant, more appreciative, more present. Life is hard, so it’s important to be aware of any and every instance of pleasure. Things like the ice encrusted faces of my dogs after they’ve been wrestling around out in the yard, squirrel tracks in the snow by the woodpile, and perfectly formed snowflakes when the temperature is just right – if you get real close it’s like a magic show!

I’m also going to work at seeing things from every angle. What may initially seem like a problem or a stumbling block may be that cloud with the silver lining, or there may be an opportunity hiding itself in there. A bit cliché? Maybe. Do they still work? They might if I let them. And if not at least I can say I tried. When the old platitudes don’t suffice I take the kids out for a walk and pay attention. I wouldn’t want to miss ice crystals in the air on a brisk sunny day, or the pine cone crumbs from the Northern Flicker that just flew off, or any other of the bits and pieces of joy I could miss if I get bogged down in pointless worry and negativity.

There’s a wonderful line from the movie Joe Versus the Volcano. Meg Ryan’s character says “…almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to… only a few people are awake and they live in a state of constant total amazement. ” I want to be one of those people!!! My one and only resolution for 2013!

Everyone has traditions on their mind this week. Assuming they’re not overwhelmed and/or worn out with last-minute shopping at malls and on Amazon. I’ve been hanging close to home, gift-giving and card mailing under control. Plus my driveway’s a mess, so better just to stay put. Most of my “traditional” Christmas customs are in place, plus a few new ones. Like the music. I listen to Mannheim Steamroller over and over, interspersed with Amy Grant and Jim Brickman. But I don’t forget Perry Como or Johnny Mathis – thank Goodness those oldies and goodies are on CDs these days!!! I’ve watched The Polar Express several times over the last week while putting up the tree and poking through storage tubs for the lights, garland, and favorite ornaments. I put up Dad’s nativity set and used little branches trimmed from the tree to decorate the crèche, then strung tiny lights inside through a hole in the back Dad put in when he made the crèche many, many years ago. The little set of Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, the wise men and shepherds with their sheep, even a donkey and camel, was a favorite childhood tradition. Then I got out Dad’s train set. This was not a Christmas tradition in our house growing up, but the train was a staple with us kids, brought out throughout the year as a treasured toy, as were Lincoln logs and tinker toys. And now it will be a tradition for the holidays at my house, whether I put up a tree or not. I love the sound the transformer makes, that little hum of power just before the tracks rattle and the little American Flyer is off and running.

I’ve let the already-mentioned tradition of cut out sugar cookies become a thing of the past. It’s never been as fun not doing it at Grandmother’s house, plus I have a little trouble eating the dough, okay, a lot of trouble eating the dough, so decided it’s best not to even go there, I have enough other bad holiday eating habits without adding sugar cookies. I’ve kept the tradition of getting out Grandmother’s corn bread pan, the one with the little ears of corn all lined up, and trying to make cornbread that doesn’t get stuck. I have fond memories of her crunchy little cornbread ears but I’ve never done it very successfully. I’m going to vary the tradition this year. I’m making cornbread stuffing and will try making it in her cast iron muffin cups and see how that works. I’m making myself hungry here…

So to you and yours – have very Merry Holidays, however you enjoy spending them with the traditions that you hold dear or new ones to be carried into the future, giving thanks in all things!

I’ve been looking forward to it all week – cutting my Christmas tree! There’s a nice little fir tucked up under a big Ponderosa down my back hill, and the cute little fir can’t stay there, both of them can’t stay there and keep being pretty so one has to go. It’s been years since I put up a tree, and when I did it was always a live one, but this one is sacrificing itself for a good cause, and will bring its soft green and scrumptious fragrance into the house to share the holiday with me.

From a secular point of view, the holidays are all about anticipation. Waiting to put up the tree, to string the lights on the house, to mail packages, to receive packages. When we were little kids, we looked forward to just getting the decorations OUT, tucked up in the attic all year, just waiting for Christmas. We waited anxiously for the time to go to Grandmother’s house and make sugar cookies. She’d have the dough all ready when we got there. She rolled it out for us to cut and decorate. There were the standards, a gingerbread man, stars, hearts, and, for some reason, a turkey cookie cutter. She provided all the pretty sprinkles, little red hots, and raisins, and we made a fine mess. She made goodies at Christmas, too – fruit cake and divinity and the best Christmas dinner. We had good grandparents, but I’ll save that for another story.

I remember Dad coming home one day with a box of little kids boots, someone from work was giving them away. The was a size for all of us and a couple extras. There was a cute red pair that was too big for me. I don’t remember how many years I anticipated growing into those boots but one year I finally did – I loved those little red snow boots! Sometimes Dad took us up to Flagstaff for sledding and tubing. As Phoenix kids, we always looked forward to going to Flag, always hoped it would actually be snowing when we got there. They have a great hill in a park up there, always crowded with kids and adults having the time of their lives. I remember lots of crashing and tumbling, but only with the fondest of memories.

The other yearly treat to anticipate was cutting our Christmas tree. It seems we usually dove up to the Payson area. Of course we always hoped there’d be snow, and I don’t remember a trip when there wasn’t any. We tromped around in the snowy woods, each of us giving our opinion as to which was the perfect tree. When one was selected Dad used a little hatchet and cut it down. Since my chainsaw is broken, I guess I’ll be using my little hatchet to cut down the little fir. Then I get to anticipate how pretty it’s going to be set up and decorated, even using a couple of the ornaments from those childhood Christmas trees. I’m going to put up Dad’s train set, too, do the whole decorating thing. I’m sorry Dad won’t get to see the tree lit up and his train running, or hear how much fun I had getting the pretty tree up that hill. He’s been gone two years now. Now that I think about it, the holidays are for remembering, too, good memories and happy times. And we get to anticipate more of those in holidays to come.

Whew, I think the hill behind my house has gotten steeper! Just a month ago I was dragging tarps full of needles down to my burn pile and to cover up some weed patches. It was plenty hot even then for going up and down that hill but I did it fine, 3 or 4 times a day! I’m not really sure what’s happened since then. Today bringing the dogs back up after they had a good run I was huffing and puffing, I had to stop twice!!! What’s going on here? Hmm. Could luxuriating inside on foggy, wet days by the fire have something to do with it? Sleeping to the last second on chilly mornings before work instead of running the dogs could figure in there. What about that stuffing and mashed taters on Thanksgiving? I’m on my second Marie Callender’s pie in a month and had a homemade apple one last week. Hmm.
Most yard work, wood collecting, and mountain hikes have all but ceased. I did split wood yesterday, though, maybe a third of a cord. Don’t give me too much credit, I used an electric splitter, but there’s still lots of bending, stacking, and wheel-barrowing. After all the cleanup I felt I’d done a good afternoon’s work.
Every year I’m determined to start my resolutions early, winter resolutions, long before New Year’s resolutions – like keep up on my exercise, watch what I eat, go out and chop a few chunks of wood now and then, the old-fashioned way, swinging an ax for some calorie-burning heat. Every year these resolutions become more important. I’m not getting any younger here!
I needed to change into clean pants after our walk today, and dug out my warm winter cords. That’s funny, they seemed to have shrunk over the summer. Uh oh!

Thanksgiving is just a few days away. The weather confirms it, as do the grocery stores and radio ads. Wet cold days spent inside make it the appropriate time for reflection, to look back or ahead, to be totally present in the moment, and to give thanks in all things.

My sister, Lynne, and I email back and forth on the days our work shifts over lap. We are not texters, Heavens no, but have developed a number of our own acronyms for comments or phrases that seem to work themselves in our conversations regularly, so we’ve made our own shortcuts for time saving. We have OOTROW, which can be a good thing or a bad thing – out of the realm of words! It’s for something that happens or an emotional response that the English language just has no words to describe. This happens surprisingly often! We also use SNWI. This applies to a new ice cream flavor or a movie we took our time and money to see – so not worth it!!!

Two of my favorites are IAR, it’s all relative, and PIE, perspective is everything. Lynne and I use these often as reminders, in reference to work, relationships, finances, or how we spent the weekend. We don’t tolerate much whining. We are blessed in countless ways. Though there’s always something we’d like to be different or better, or one more thing we’d like to possess, we are lacking nothing! Almost more important than being thankful for the blessings in our lives, is support, prayers and anything else we can give to those who are not as well off, financially, emotionally, or health wise. Many people in the east won’t be spending this holiday in their home because it’s gone. Many kids won’t be getting the dozen toys they want because their parents can’t find jobs. Not everyone will spend time with their entire family, as one may be overseas in the service or sick in a hospital.

Right now I’m sitting by my nice warm fire. I whine plenty about using my free time to cut firewood, that I get sore and tired and filthy from doing it. But how lucky am I that I’m able to do it! In a place that I love! Is it hard spending an afternoon in the woods with the fresh smell of cut pine, listening to Stellar jays chat in the tree tops? Hardly! Do I love my little wood stove radiating free heat? Absolutely! So once again I remind myself that perspective is everything. Wishing you some PIE thoughts for your holiday, along with warmth, happiness, and full tummies. Cindy