December 28th and Dan is on his second 12 hour night shift. One more to go and then he is off for a few days. Danny and Amanda were here with the little boys for supper but have headed back to their hotel, so it is me – with Baccardi, Cornelius and Kat. I hope the responsible party is done passing gas before we go to bed. 🤢
Finished my Christmas jigsaw puzzle. Actually I got a box of eight smaller puzzles this year but with Danny and family coming tomorrow I may not get them all done before January 2nd.
Growing up, we were not wealthy by any means but all the stops came out at Christmas. There were chocolates and candy, nuts and oranges. There were endless buns and pies, cookies and squares. There was turkey and ham, cabbage rolls and tourtiere, salads and a dozen side dishes. My mother was a phenomenal and prolific cook and baker! There were stockings filled with small treats and toys, always including a new coloring book and crayons. There were dolls, and teddy bears and trucks under the tree. Last but not least, there was always a new jigsaw puzzle. After Christmas dinner, the card table was set up, the puzzle came out, and we all took turns visiting around the puzzle, doing a bit here and a bit there, until the family puzzle was complete. It is a tradition I am sure we all maintained with our children and they carry it on today. 🎄
Nine years ago we were blessed with the happiest little granddaughter we could possibly hope for. Madison came into the world smiling and has made it her mission in life to spread joy.
We did not see Maddy cry until she was three years old and even then it was the most hilarious meltdown in the history of panty shopping. Apparently even if the panties were the right size, perfect color and had her favourite cartoon character on them, it was a dealbreaker if they did not come in a sealed plastic package. Lack of proper packaging had Maddy sitting in the aisle, sobbing her heart out. 😂. Maddy always has a plan, and perfect execution is everything. 🤣
One of Maddy’s favourite things is sleepovers with Grandma and Grandpa. A few years ago we were going through a particularly hectic December, here and at their home, so sleepovers were put on hold. I promised a disappointed Maddy that we would have a sleepover for Boxing Day. She was more excited about her upcoming special Boxing Day Sleepover than she was about Christmas. 😂 She had a plan and this was going to be spectacular. Boxing Day was finally upon us and Maddy was ready. I picked her up, we made a quick shopping run, came home to arts and crafts, had a special Maddy planned supper, read a few books, had a long bubble bath with lots of toys and capped it all off with brunch the next morning. Thus began Maddy’s Annual Boxing Day Sleepover.
By the next Boxing Day, Maddy had recruited her little sister Prim so we had twice the fun for our annual event.
This year there is no Maddy’s Annual Boxing Day Sleepover but we will be thinking of her and hoping that her eyes are twinkling, she has an ear to ear smile and she is having a very special Boxing Day
I grew up in a French Catholic home. Religion was a part of our lives every day but even more so at Christmas. For weeks before Christmas, we were put into super drive preparing for the big day. We scrubbed our home from top to bottom, cooked and baked, shopped and wrapped, we prepared for our school Christmas concert (which centred around the Nativity story in those day), we decorated our home and of course we attended choir practice and church services six ways to Sunday. My older, married sisters would arrive with husbands and children and gifts.
By the big day, we were ready for the MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS🎁🎄🎆
And then, my mother would crash and burn. The exhaustion and the stress of weeks of preparation, topped off with a couple of hours at midnight mass, would finally get the best of her. By noon, Mother would be in full meltdown, babies would start to cry, men would start to drink, sisters would start to fight. No Christmas miracles in our home, just bitter disappointment and the obligatory Christmas pictures to prove that we had the happiest of times🙄. By supper, we had all thrown in the towel and spent the evening working at jigsaw puzzles and playing cards.
Once I had my own family, I pretty much carried on the same tradition with a few extra perks thrown in. Christmas in our home was never done until someone had the flu or a case of pneumonia. The epitome had to be the year Danny puked on the Christmas tree. That was a classic. The year my Dad died days before Christmas was memorable. I was almost ready to give up on the MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS by 2003. That was the year our precious Genie was born. We left the hospital at 3:30pm on Christmas Eve with love and joy in our hearts. We were so close. We got home to find that my Mother had decided to place a box of chocolates under the Christmas tree, inspite of our asking her repeatedly not to do that, inspite of our moving them sixteen times. She had no idea our dog would eat them. Good grief! What dog wouldn’t eat them? Really hard to hold onto the Christmas spirit, when you are sitting in the vet’s office on Christmas Eve. 🤦
My family grew up, in spite of our annual Christmas debacles. They all have children of their own and their own Christmas stories to tell. For many years we have been going to my daughter’s for Christmas. I have powered through shopping for gifts and food, while my husband kept a running total of the cost. I went to Christmas concerts, which always seem to be held on December 17th 😢. My daughter would bake and clean. We were always ready for a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE that never quite made it. There was tears, disappointment, arguments, melt downs, way to much noise and just downright unChristmassy behaviour – but we kept powering through and I kept doing my damnedest to aim for a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
This year my sons are with their in-laws, my husband is at work, my daughter is at her home with her family and we are not there because she has shut me out of her life and banned me from seeing my grandchildren. My father and mother are both gone. I am alone for Christmas Day. I went into this season with no expectations or hope of making this the year of the CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
Honestly, I am having the best Christmas ever. My sister and her husband were here for an overnight visit a few days ago. We sent out for pizza and had wine. So nice. My sons are coming with their families on the weekend. I have done a bit of baking – some good, some not so much, but whatever. It was Christmassy. Genie’s stepfather dropped her off for a quick visit on the 23rd. She brought us some gifts she had made for us. There were a lot of tears but it was all good. I cooked a ham last night, destroyed the scalloped potatoes but the broccoli was great. After supper, we opened presents. We cried over Genie’s. They were so special. She painted us a picture and wrote a book for Grandpa, telling him how much he meant to her. She gave me a sparkling elephant pin. Today I made myself Pillsbury cinnamon buns for breakfast. I have a turkey in the oven for when Dan gets home from work. I am relaxing by my new fireplace, ready to start doing a jigsaw puzzle. I am happy, at peace, and full of love and good wishes for my family – all of my family. I feel really good. This is is the year of my CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
The thing is, you can’t make miracles happen. You can’t force them or fake them. Miracles just happen when you let them🕊️
Our own precious Christmas angel turns sixteen years old today. From the time she turned us into Grandma and Grandpa, she has been the definition of sweetness.
As a tot, she was bubbling over with love and happiness. Over the years, she has only grown in love and kindness, compassion and sweetness. She took the best of all of us and molded it into her own unique self.
Genie with her little sisters
Pictures cannot show the whole story and she wouldn’t want them to. Our little angel has been through hell and back over the years. She doesn’t allow that to break her or use it as an excuse to give less than her best. She has used it to make her better and stronger.
She has taken cruelty and heartbreak and used it to strengthen her love and affection for her family. Her childhood was taken from her but she is the fiercely dedicated and protective big sister. She is a dedicated employee who was made a shift supervisor at one of our biggest and busiest supermarkets – when she was fifteen – while still in school and heavily involved in music and drama.
Genevieve is so amazing, beautiful, caring and responsible – and today our little Christmas angel is sixteen.
One more day of work and I am free for Christmas break. Tomorrow night my husband will be home, my sister and brother in law will be here to visit. We will be sitting around, sipping wine, getting caught up on the family news. I am so ready 🎄.
This year, for the first time in 42 years, my nest will be empty for Christmas. I somehow thought this would be a time to dread but to be honest, I am quite enjoying it.
I am sorry that my husband has to work all Christmas Day, but I will spend much of the day making us a beautiful turkey supper. We will have time together in the days before Christmas and over New Years. My sister and her husband will be here this weekend and my sons will be here with their families after Christmas.
I have done some baking and set out minimal decorations. I am picking up a couple of gifts for my husband. The kids are getting cards with enough cash to take their families on a special outting.
For the most part, this will just be a nice relaxing time off from work. This year I will have time to enjoy the winter wonderland outside our door – without actually going outside of our door. This year there will be no fussy babies, fighting siblings or arguing couples. There will be no whining, complaining, or crying. And there will definitely be nobody getting the flu and throwing up on the Christmas tree.
This year there will just be peace and goodwill! The way Christmas should be🕊️
On Thursday, the news broke. Another murder suicide. A middle aged couple on the verge of divorce. Husband took his wife’s life and then took his own. Shock and sadness. How can this happen? Why does this keep happening? I have a few thoughts on the subject.
Every time the subject of domestic violence, or any violence for that matter, comes up in Saskatchewan the same comments follow. It is natives, it is poverty, it is refugees. No, it is not. All too often, it is us. It is one of ours. The couple who died last week – white, middle class, nice home in a nice neighbourhood. Robert Picton, the pig farmers who butchered countless native women in British Columbia, one of us. Russell Williams, commander of the Trenton Airforce Base in Ontario, who raped and murdered young women, one of us. Robert Leeming, murdered his room mate/part time girlfriend and her little daughter, one of us. I could go on for pages.
The fact is violence and murder is not confined to any race, socio-economic group,sex or age. We have to quit looking over there and start looking across the board for the actual root causes and red flags. Until then, there is no realistic way we can prevent it, it will keep happening.
Today is National Ambrosia Day. I can’t believe that of all the salads that could score their own day, that the honor would go to Ambrosia Salad.
Ambrosia Salad is a mix of fruit (typically orange sections as the base), creamy milk product (yogurt, whipped cream or sour cream) and mini marshmallows. It is not my favourite food – so not my favorite since it is a combination of my three least favourite foods. In the eighties it was super popular, particularly with my mother in law who served it with disturbing regularity.
My son Danny loves food – eating it, preparing it, discussing it. A couple of times a year we travel across the province to visit Danny and his family and a couple of times a year they come home. Every trip is preceded by a discussion on the food that will be served. Danny threatens me with Ambrosia salad. I threaten him with tomato aspic (which probably does not get it’s own national holiday🙁).
A few more hours and we will be on the other side of another full moon. I thought I would share a few special pics for anyone feeling the effects🧟
Peace, love and kindness to you and yours💖
Seclusion 101 with AnneMarie 