Happy New Year.....

Truth be told, having been a student and a teacher for many a year, my "new year" always begins in September.  So I'm not one for New Year's resolutions, nor mournfully or joyfully bidding the past year good-bye.

So the Englishman and I will share a quiet evening and most probably keep very close to our normal bedtime.  Having just enjoyed a lovely dinner at home together, I am quite happy to just settle in for the night.

My sincerest wish is for each of us to enjoy good health, peaceful lives in our homes and our country, and the love of family and friends.

And may 2013 be a year in which those who can, do. 

(Why yes, I mean those we have elected.)

Cheers!

Friday Fotos.....

Captured this adorable "Mini Chef" this morning with my phone.

The "kilted" basset hound appeared Christmas morning after a sweater mishap.

And here are the locals who frequent our outdoor eatery......

A chickadee

                                                      Mr. Cardinal







These photos are courtesy of the "BirdCam" I received from the Englishman for Christmas.  



The BirdCam is a unique camera, currently hanging on the other side of the bird feeder.  It takes both still photos and short videos, and even has a built in flash for night pictures.  I think the wee ones and I are going to have a lot of fun with this!

While I don't in any way claim to be even a good photographer, I do enjoy the convenience of using my phone (and now the BirdCam) to capture those special moments that come my way.  

Thursday's thought for the day....

"Painful as it may be, a significant emotional event can be the catalyst for choosing a direction that serves us ~ and those around us ~ more effectively.  Look for the learning."

                                                                                                              ~ Louisa May Alcott

One sincerely hopes that the recents events in this country, especially on the East Coast, will serve as turning points.  They have certainly caused me to increase my own "random acts of kindness" and to do whatever I can to make a difference.

Wednesday's wisdom....

In the grand scheme of things, how important is it?

We had an absolutely wonderful Christmas Eve with all the family, followed by a special morning  Christmas Day, watching the wee ones come down the stairs and open their gifts from Santa.

During the past few days there were giggles which often turned to laughter, with tears streaming down our cheeks. There were truly priceless gifts exchanged - all given right from the heart.  Memories were made that I will cherish always.

And just as in homes around the world, there were items that were too small or didn't arrive in time. Dogs that took longer than usual to settle and children far too excited to sit any longer at the table. Place cards were twisted by tiny hands, as stains appeared on the cloth napkins. 

Did any of that matter?  Not one bit.

 We were together. That was all I cared about.

With everything that has happened in the world, our country, our state, our family, this past year - I've learned to pick and choose what matters and what to let go of.

The health and safety of those I love is of the utmost importance to me these days.

All the rest, as they say, is just stuff.

One of the fondest memories I have of Christmas Eve as I was growing up, occurred just before we scooted down the hall and off to bed.  My mother would gather my siblings and I in front of the tree, where out manger set was placed.  She would then read to us from her Sunday Missal, the Gospel of Luke and the story of the Nativity.

I came across my Dad's missal last week, which had been tucked away in a box on my nightstand.  I thought it fitting to bring it out and place it on the new cloth I purchased in Germany this past Spring.

 Old traditions blending in with new traditions. 

I can't wait to see the expressions on the wee ones faces when they discover Grandmom's Santa Village.  I've saved it as a surprise for this special family night, when we all gather to feast on the most wonderful spread, thanks to the Englishman.  And yes.  There will be trifle!

Wishing you and yours 

joy and magic 

this Christmas Eve.....

Friday Fotos and Fitness Friday....

How handsome are these two boys in their winter jackets?

It's all about love for one another this week....

What a treat it was to spend extra time with this most precious wee granddaughter!

This lovely photo, taken by daughter #2 of her girls, sums up how we are all feeling at the moment ~ hold on tight to those you love.

Then pop over to Mommy Musings for Fitness Friday.

I've been making more conscious decisions about what I eat and cutting back on portion size.  I've also been parking farther away from my destinations and walking more.

It's all good, as they say.

(Click on the Mommy Musings link below)

http://www.mommymandymusings.com/2012/12/fitness-friday.html

(If that doesn't work, go to Mommy Musings on the right side of this page!)

Have a lovely weekend....

Thursday's thought for the day....

"In times of great stress or adversity, it's always best to keep busy, to plow your anger and energy into something positive."
                                                                 ~Lee Iacocca

 Oh, so very true.  

Also works when you are feeling helpless or afraid. 

Keep busy. Do some good.

Then eat a piece of chocolate.

*If you are new to this blog and would like to receive email notices of new postings, please sign up under "FOLLOW BY EMAIL on the right hand side of this page.  Thank you!

Wednesday's wisdom....

Many of you may be familiar with this poster, produced during the Second World War by the British Ministry of Information for the purpose of boosting morale.

This is my version.  

I've learned that when I'm procrastinating and trying to mentally list, then justify, all the reasons why I'm not starting or finishing a task, I look at this sign on my desk.

And you know what?  It works. Stuff gets done.

Tip for a Tuesday....

Be a Helper

Ann Curry, the NBC journalist "tweeted" on Sunday a most wonderful idea in response to the horror of December 14th.  

"Imagine if all of us committed to 20 mitvahs/acts of kindness to honor each child lost in Newtown.  I'm in. If you are RT #20Acts"

She has been re-tweeting the incredible responses she has received and says that tens of thousands of people on Twitter and Facebook not only seized the idea, but increased it to 26, to include the teachers and staff lost as well who lost their lives trying to save the children.  This is a wonderful example of how social media can do so much good!

Ann also posted a quote today from Mr. Rogers, which I found so profound:

"Fred Rogers once said that when he saw scary things in the news as a boy, his mother would say, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'"

My tip?  Each one of us can be a helper!

Need some ideas? Here's what I'm working on...

Daughter #2 and her husband contacted one of the funeral homes in Newtown and the two of them have started a monetary collection to help pay for one of the funerals.  I dropped off my donation at lunchtime.  

The 2012 PBA Toy Drive in Bergen County is looking for donations, so I'll be buying several toys to bring to my local police station in the morning.

In addition, I'm also writing directly to my representatives in Congress.

This web address gives you the email addresses of all members of Congress: 

http://www.contactingthecongress.org

Ann Curry has shared stories of people donating to food banks, buying coffee for a teacher in line at the local coffee shop, bringing baked goods to a nursing home, and secretly leaving some cash for a co-worker they know is struggling financially.

The possibilities are endless.  The reward?  Feeling like there is something we can do to try and honor those innocent lives that were lost.

A Monday memory....

The utter horror of the events of December 14th in Newtown, Connecticut is beyond words, beyond comprehension.  As a mother, grandmother, and former teacher, emotions rise quickly to the surface and are hard to push away.  It is, quite simply, heartbreaking.

So I pray. For the victims, their families, friends and loved ones. For the First Responders. For the surviving teachers and students. For all of us.

There were many questions in my Third Grade classroom after the devastation at Columbine High School in 1999.  Like most teachers, I tried to answer the students questions without giving specific details, bearing in mind their ages and what was appropriate to say.  Several children were posing, "what if" questions to me and I tried to be general in my response and say that it wouldn't happen at our school. But one boy in particular, Stephen, kept interrupting as the discussion went on.  Finally, he stood up and asked, "But what if they do get in the building.  What if they come in through the door? What will we do?"

I paused, asking for Divine inspiration, and replied with as much certainty as I could muster.  "If anyone ever came through that door, I would push you all up here (front of the classroom), knock this table down and put you behind it.  Then I would stand in front of you and do everything I could to protect you."

A smile crept across Stephen's face as he sat down, then said, "OK".  And that was the end of the questions.  Many of the students started to nod in Stephen's direction.  Because that was really what they all wanted to know. They wanted to tell them that I would do everything I could to take care of them, to keep them safe.  And I was so grateful they appeared to believe me, hopeful that it reassured them, at least for that day, that we would be alright.

The heroism of the Principal, staff, and teachers in Newtown did not surprise me.  For the vast majority of those who enter the field of education, teaching is more of a calling than an occupation.  Caring for students as you would your own family is second nature.  

Having to literally try and save the lives of our students was not something we even thought about, much less trained for, when I attended all those teacher training courses in college.  

Things must change.....we, as a country, can not let this happen again.

Thursday's thought for the day....

"Your presence is a source of strength and an inspiration to people you spend time with.
Give your greatest gift   --   your full attention, yourself."                                                  

                                                             ~ Alexandra Stoddard

                                                         Interior Designer and Lifestyle Philosopher

Something to think about, as I wrap gifts for friends and family.  

Wednesday's wisdom....

"Put your oxygen mask on first...."

If you've ever been on a plane, that's part of the directions they give you at the beginning of a flight, instructing you that in the event of an emergency you should apply your own oxygen mask first, then assist those around you. 

In speaking with a couple of female friends this morning about being able to be there for our families,  I commented how important it is for me to put my oxygen mask on first, before I can help anyone else. One of the women confessed she had never heard that expression used to encourage one to take care of themselves in order to help others.  

Now for most of us, I think our first instinct is to want to mask up everyone else first before taking care of ourselves.  But if you think about it, should you fail to apply the mask to yourself first, you will probably pass out and thus be unable to assist anyone, including yourself.

As a young mother, I figured out pretty quickly that I needed to take care of me if I was going to take care of them, those tiny people that started to inhabit our home.  It made sense that if I truly wanted to be there for my kids I needed to take care of myself if I had any hope of being at my best for them.

Lack of sleep was a danger zone for me.  I don't function well if I'm tired and it also shortens my "fuse" dramatically, so getting enough sleep has always been a priority. I found a workable, early bedtime and stuck to it - seven days a week.  

And those days of stuffing myself with Cheetos or skipping meals?  Over.  I needed to eat properly to stay healthy and keep up my stamina.  During my pregnancies, the Englishman made sure I loaded up on the veggies.  I confess, it took time, but now I'm a fan of brussel sprouts, affectionately known as "green jobs" around here, and all other manner of things green.

I also make sure to slip my hand into my stash to enjoy even the tiniest bit of dark chocolate every day.

God bless my mother, when my girls were young, she would look after them every Monday afternoon so I knew there were a couple of hours each week that I could count on to recharge my battery so to speak.  Now that those little ones are all grown up and out on their own, having a little quiet time by myself each day is easier and a real boost to my energy levels.   

Though it sounds as though you are putting the cart before the horse, for me, taking care of myself first is they key to my ability to be there for my loved ones and friends.

And as Martha says, "That's a good thing."

Tuesday's Tip for the Day....

A Wrapping Station

I know why Santa's pack, slung over his back, holds toys visible for all to see - 

they don't require wrapping!

Ever find yourself, as I have, behind a locked bedroom door, with packages strewn all over the bed, searching out that ever elusive roll of scotch tape?  Then maybe it's time for change.

After years of frustration and a sore back, I finally developed a wrapping station for myself:

My assembled supplies include:

• storage boxes for ribbon, bows, tissue paper, tiny gift bags, tags
• scotch tape in a weighted dispenser, scissors
• canvas bags for storing wrapped gifts
• paper bag for recycling bits
• plastic garbage bag, hung on end of ironing board
• "gift" notebook for writing down year, recipient and gifts; pens

After trial and error I finally discovered that an ironing board is the perfect height for wrapping and avoids back strain.  Due to the flight of daughter's from the nest, I am fortunate to have a spare bedroom in which to store all these items now.  Previously, I set up a temporary station in my bedroom.

I highly recommend wrapping a few items at a time, perhaps as you purchase them or they arrive via the UPS man.  Packing up the wrapped gifts in canvas bags not only keeps them tidy, it makes it quite easy to transport them to below the tree or your holiday destination.

A Monday memory....

First, a note....

     Thanks to the efforts of daughter #2, who has a popular blog of her own, "Mommy Musings", I now have a Facebook page dedicated to this blog.  If that is how you found me and you are new to this site - Welcome!  

For those who know me, I pride myself on "doing the right thing" and observing all manner of decorum in my actions.  There are times, however, when certain situations have arisen and the urge to, shall we say "put things right' has overridden my better sense.  And things are said.  Like the time....

One of several places in the world I'd always dreamt of seeing was Australia.  As fortune would have it, the Englishman was scheduled to travel there many years ago for a business trip and I was to be his companion. I gave little thought to the details about the length of the flight necessary to arrive in Aussie land.  Truth be told, the flight was in March of 2002.  Just a few short months after September 11th.  Flying was not something I wanted to think about.

But off we went.  The initial flight from New York to California found us sitting in the last row of the plane.  Literally.  There was a delay in our taking off and as we got closer to the West Coast, it was becoming clear to us that we might have difficulty in making our connecting flight.  Fortunately, the pilot was also aware of the situation.  So as we came closer to descending for landing, the pilot made multiple announcements concerning the fact that there were several passengers on the flight who needed to make a connection for Sydney, Australia - and would all passengers please give them the opportunity to do so by remaining in their seats until said passengers had departed.

We landed.

Everyone stood upon the minute the wheels hit the ground and the plane slowed.

Everyone.

"Excuse me, excuse me, "  I said politely, as the Englishman and I, with carry on luggage in hand, tried to move forward from the back of the plane.

Nothing.  

Again, trying to maintain my composure.  "Excuse me....."

And then, from deep inside my body, rose a feeling of utter frustration and annoyance, and I cried out in my Third Grade Teacher voice,

"EXCUSE ME.  ARE WE ALL GOING TO SYDNEY?"

Silence fell upon the cabin.

Now, if you are expecting a happy ending to this story, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint.

 Two people sat down.  Two! 

We had to wait until everyone in front of us had disembarked.

Upon arriving at the gate, with the several other passengers from our flight attempting to make the connection, we were greeted with the news that our connecting flight had just left the gate.  Without us.

There was a woman in charge, so to speak, clutching her clip board tightly, who proudly announced, as she made a check mark gesture on her clipboard,

"Oh that flight left on time.  There was absolutely no reason to hold that plane."

Other than the twenty people now starring in disbelief at her?

The saga continued.....

Phone calls were made by other airline staff at the little desk, and it was suggested that another airline might possibly have seats for us, if we hurried to their counter.  A mile away.  Through two terminals.  I am not making this up.

Our "group" (how quickly difficulty can form bonds among people united by a common cause) walked as fast as our legs and burden of luggage would allow and we all got to said counter in record time. Where we were told .... they had not received a phone call, and therefore had no knowledge of our need!

Cue steam....exiting our ears....

I believe it was Divine intervention which then took place.  One of the men manning the desk at the Qantas Airline, offered to do whatever he could to get us on the flight which at that moment was boarding for Sydney.  He asked the assembled group if we were willing to fly without luggage.  Without hesitation, we all shook our heads in the affirmative. He then gathered all our passports and went off behind a closed door.

We thought we were all either brave or stupid for having turned over our documents, not knowing for certain where they would end up, but we really wanted to get on that flight.

Now comes the happy ending.  Sort of.

The Englishman and I did get on the flight.  Unfortunately, we were unable to sit side by side.

For the next fourteen hours.

As I slipped into the seat directly in front of the Englishman, I had a moment of panic about being in such a tight space.  But as we were determined to get to Sydney, I pushed the urge to bolt back up the aisle out of my mind and strapped on my seat belt.

Our ordeal, I'm grateful to say, was worth every moment of angst we endured to get to our destination.

Sydney turned out to be an absolutely amazing city.

But that story is for another day.

Thursday's thought for the day....

"Sometimes you just gotta stand there and hurt."

                                              ~ Ann R.

This is a quote from my mother.  She used to say it quite often, years ago.  I hated to admit it then, but she was right.

Sometimes there is nothing else for it but to just feel the hurt.  Because some things really do hurt and there's no use pretending it doesn't.

And after you feel it - you can start to move on.

Today is the thirtieth anniversary of my Dad's passing.  I've been surprised how much it's affected me this year.  The day he died, it was a freakishly 70 degrees outside.  By the morning of the funeral the temperature had dropped to 20 degrees.  We had similar changes around here this week.  Perhaps that's why I've been feeling a little unnerved.

A week after his funeral, I ran into an older woman I'd known for a few years.  She looked me in the eye and told me that though it had been many years since her father had passed away, that there wasn't a single day that went by that she didn't think of him.

I will always be grateful to her for sharing that with me.  It was exactly what I needed to hear and hold on to.  I needed to believe that I would remember my Dad always, no matter the number of years that went by.  

"Grief is the price we pay for love" said Queen Elizabeth, after the tragedy of 

September 11th.  

Another wise woman.  

Today I am hurting.  So I will feel and acknowledge the hurt, in order to be able to then move on to remembering all the sweet memories I hold dear.

 For I too have found it to be true.  Not a day goes by.....

Wednesday's wisdom....

Maybe, just maybe, you're never too old for ......

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was on television last night.  

A quick text message was dispatched to alert my three daughters.  Not sure if they watched, but I felt it was important information to pass along.  

The Englishman paused the Arthur's Christmas movie we were watching (British spin on Santa), so I could catch the very beginning of Rudolph, because he knows how much I love it.  After watching the first ten minutes, I was content to go back to Arthur.

I must confess that, later, while the Englishman took the dogs out for the last time before bed, I turned on the TV in the kitchen on so I could see the ending.

Yes, I am quite conscious of the fact that I am in fact a grandmother and not ten years old, as I was when the show debuted.  The truth is, I've always loved and never tire of watching this show, as well as A Charlie Brown Christmas.

It has recently occurred to me that a large part of the attraction for watching this show is my attempt to try and recapture some of the feelings of wonder and excitement I still had at that age of ten.  When I shared my insight with the Englishman last night at dinner, his response was, "You've only just figured that out now?"

Yes, dear.

As luck would have it, I came upon and purchased a small set of the toy characters from the show several years ago. Granddaughter M is absolutely fascinated with them.  She loves to get the characters out from the large tin in which I store them, assemble them in front of her and pronounce, "Now, Grandmom,  You be Clarice and I'll be Rudolph." Daughter #1 was here this past Sunday while M and I were playing, and proudly told her niece, "You know, Grandmom knows all the words to the show."

It's true. I do. 

I can't remember the zip code for our retirement house, but I do know all the dialog to this cartoon.

And I'm ok with that.

It makes me happy.

These days, I think it's good for any of us to find happiness anywhere we can.

A Monday memory....(day late)

December the third would have been the 90th birthday of my mother-in-law, Lyla.

She passed away in 1996, nearly three months to the day after her husband, Keith. They had been together for over forty-eight years, so I don't think we were really surprised that she "joined" him so quickly.

Lyla was a lovely, tiny woman, standing barely five feet tall.  She was very proud of several things, most importantly her son, her home and her garden.  And she had every right to be for each were wonderful.

Lyla was born and raised in Belfast, Ireland.  Though a shy and timid woman, I believe she had a deep wellspring of inner courage from which she drew upon during her lifetime. Taking advantage of the career which  my father-in-law chose, Lyla and he were able to travel and spend several years living in two exotic and distinctive countries - Turkey and Hong Kong.  Otherwise, home was in England. "Mum" was happiest either puttering in her garden or tidying up her house.  

I'll always remember one story she told me about doing her "decorating", which is the word the English use to describe painting and wallpapering.  She had a habit of changing out the wallpaper in the lounge (living room) once a year.  One time she said she had gotten a late start in the day, but was absolutely determined to get the job done before going to bed.  So she kept at it and didn't quit until the last sheet of paper was hung.  

Unfortunately, when the light of day dawned and Mum came out into the lounge, it was to find that she had hung several sheets of wallpaper upside down!  She said she learned a very good lesson indeed that time, not to push herself when she was clearly too tired to pay attention to the details.

Mum also loved her role as "Nanny" to her six grandchildren - three in England and three in America.  The time she and my father-in-law spent with the children during their yearly visits was something she treasured, I'm sure, and was worth all the worry and stress of traveling across the Atlantic.  I often thought she loved the evenings the best - giving the little ones "their wee bath" then wrapping them in towels and hugging them tight.  Later, when they would come down dressed in their jammies to say good night, she would gather them up, kiss them and pronounce, "Oh, don't you look lovely!"

When traveling became too difficult for my in-laws, we relied heavily on phone calls and letter writing to stay in touch.  In those last letters I wrote to her I tried to express my deep gratitude to Mum for having raised a truly wonderful son, my husband.  I wanted so much for her to know that.

I can still see her, sitting in the garden of our first house, looking over at the Englishman and saying with such pride,  "My son."

How lovely is that!