10 December 2010

it's just the way I feel

Christmas is uneasiness for me. Always has been. I'm ok with it. In my mind there are expectations and I never seem to hit the mark.  I just get a bit overwhelmed by the point of it all. I do like the Christmas tree, and the fairy lights, and the cards and greetings and I do love my Harry Connick Jr. for the Holidays. (I love him year round). And 17 years ago I bought a Christmas Album that haunts and soothes me simultaneously. The Bells of Dublin by the Chieftains. One song in particular opens it up, the questions, the contradiction, the light and darkness of the season... the Rebel Jesus with Jackson Brown.


All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants' windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
While the sky darkens and freezes
Will be gathering around the hearths and tables
Giving thanks for God's graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesus

Well they call him by 'the Prince of Peace'
And they call him by 'the Savior'
And they pray to him upon the seas
And in every bold endeavor
And they fill his churches with their pride and gold
As their faith in him increases
But they've turned the nature that I worship in
From a temple to a robber's den
In the words of the rebel Jesus

Well we guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus

Now pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgment
For I've no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In a life of hardship and of earthly toil
There's a need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure
And I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel Jesus

PS: I'm not saying I can't figure out the real meaning of the season... got it. (for me at least) Are there not any of you out there who question let's say, hmmmm, Santa? I am totally moved by the Hallelujah Chorus, but am equally amused by Tim Burton holiday poetry (stick boy's festive season). Well maybe not equally. Like I said I am ok with the uneasiness and contradiction. 

04 December 2010

thanks-living


























nice hat

23 November 2010

Bye Bye Khloee - Good Dog

Khloee and Land 1998

The Khloster, Kloking Device, KoKo, Kleo, KloMonster, Lola, Girly Girl has now left us. We are so sad. Land was four when we she came to our family... now he is 18. He and Chase had a childhood buddy. She was crazy and kooky. A lab who hated water, who was alpha-female and tore into other dogs, usually winning the smackdown. She has flown out of the back of a pickup and been run over by one. She always would sit in front of every house she lived in and bark at trucks, chase them down. What a good guard dog... our house was never hit by a truck. She stole stuff from the neighbors yards. She was put under citizen's arrest and went to court. But, the girl was great to kids, and she was loyal and cute and good. Well Done Khloee Dog.

So this Thanksgiving we are thankful for Khloee!

17 November 2010

Cheers!


I received a phone call yesterday from my hands-down best neighbor ever. (She lives in Massachusetts now). "A royal wedding!" Of course this would make us excited. We were young teenagers ourselves as we watched (a shared memory even though we didn't know each other then) so very early in the morning the spectacle in London so many years ago. Diana and Charles. Years later we cried together, day in and day out, over the death of Princess Diana. Neighbors and friends wondered just what was wrong with us. She sent a letter of condolence to Sarah Ferguson and received a reply on engraved stationary. We could hardly catch our breath. Sadness and disbelief. I set out the "alter" as Darren calls it. Books of the wedding gown, of the royal family, of the palaces, newspaper clippings, stamps. I copied her clothing. My grandmother gifted me a sapphire ring from an estate sale so similar to that engagement ring. Never mind that it isn't real, she had no idea at the time how much I treasured it and still do.  My obsession remained during study abroad in London when I was 19. We stayed right across from Kensington Palace and you bet that when we heard that helicopter landing we would rip out of the hostel and try to catch a glimpse. Duchess of Kent at the time and some other lesser known royals were all we caught. I think that my royal friend and I should go. Can you imagine the eye rolling from our husbands? Ahhhh, I feel young again...

10 November 2010

cut short




Pretty harsh on myself last week. I mean I didn't get one post in. Felt like I did nothing. Nevermind that I am on our local Bioneers steering committee and the conference was all day Friday and Saturday. And that the Aggies played basketball Friday night and football Saturday. And that it was the last soccer game and I needed to set the lucky jello. And that I had invited my true soul friend Leslie to do some true soul poetry readings at Bioneers. She came all the way down from Idaho Falls and brought her daughters and grandbabies and husband and son-in-law and we feasted on delivered pizza and gooood conversation. Bioneers is a spiritual retreat for me. The women who speak, speak to that deep part of me, the woman I want to become. I'm always incredibly fed and enthused at the end of the conference. So Sunday morning I wanted to connect with the fam. I suggested a short hike in the canyon to see the last days of autumn... before the storm set in. We made it to the turn off to spring hollow and that was it. The boys refused to get out of the car. They (and I) were tired and cranky and it felt forced. I jumped out and snapped a photo at the bridge and pouted back down the canyon. We did take a detour. We saw a brush covered sign that said USU ropes course. Less than a mile from the house. Weird stuff up there. A lot of left over junk from research projects. We named the mud huts the peyote dens. When we finally returned home I thought I'd read and ended up napping three hours. The exhaustion catching up to me. I should have known. Even the sunlight is rationing its gaze.