The Kittehs Seek to Adjust Their Lifestyle

Peer Pressure?

We won't put up a tree and greenery till around the 15th -- but the past weekend seemed a good time to change out the fall colors and bring in the red and green. And strings of lights. And all the old familiar Christmas stuff.

I think it was my DIL Aileen who posted a meme saying "Tradition is peer pressure from dead people" and I kinda have to agree. 

My family "did" Christmas but in a relatively restrained way. John's family, on the other hand, went all out, with bubble lights, clacking wind up toys, Christmas decorations everywhere, down to little decorative Yuletide covers for every doorknob.

And red suspenders and tartan trousers  for my father-in-law.

We don't go that far but every year I bring out the familiar family stuff -- the little Santa that John painted in Cub Scouts sits by the picture of his folks . . .

I hang up my great-grandmother's quilt . . .

... and the little Yule hanging John's grandparents bought on a trip to Scandinavia back in the Fifties ... and many, many more bits and bobs of Christmases past. It's all faded and time worn but then so are we.

I made this pillow cover (below) in 1984 -- and every year it looks a little sadder. And every year I think I should make a new one and every year, I don't.

 I hope when it come time for my sons and DILs to deal with all this stuff, they'll have the strength of their convictions and toss out whatever doesn't 'spark joy.'

I refuse to be the peer pressure from Beyond.

Nudging the Light Along

Silver on the Tree

Just as many people put on Christmas carols or binge on Hallmark movies or other seasonal entertainment, at this time of year, I seem to find myself re-reading the fantasy sequence The Dark Is Rising.

I blogged about it two years ago but here I am again to sing the praises of this extraordinary quintet of books for younger readers.  (I reread the Narnia books too, every few years.)

Though written in the 1970's and set in England and Wales, now, more than ever, these books are relevant for the Dark is indeed on the rise in our world.

I was struck particularly by an early scene in Silver on the Tree, the final book of the sequence.  A school bully has been tormenting an immigrant boy and when the bully is treated to a bit of his own medicine, the bully's father takes noisy exception. 

"Let them solve their own problems, not come whining over here. What's all that have to do with us? They don't belong here, none of 'em; they should all be thrown out. And if you think they're so bloody marvelous you'd better go live in their lousy countries with them!"

One could hear this tirade most any day on right wing media or on the streets, emboldened as many haters are by the Bigot in Chief.

By the end of the sequence, Merriman/Merlin and deep magic from the past have repelled the present threat of Dark, but the children who have been a crucial part of the battle are left with a warning--which I found especially pertinent:

"For remember...that it is altogether your world now...we have delivered you from evil, but the evil that is inside men is at the last a matter for men to control. The responsibility and the hope and the promise are in your hands--your hands and the hands of the children of all men on this earth. ...the hope is always here, always alive, but only your fierce caring can fan it into a fire to warm the world."

...

 "For Drake is no longer in his hammock, children, nor is Arthur somewhere sleeping, and you may not lie idly expecting the second coming of anybody now, because the world is yours and it is up to you. Now especially since man has the strength to destroy this world. it is the responsibility of man to keep it alive, in all its beauty and marvellous joy."

...

"And the world will still be imperfect, because men are imperfect. Good men will still be killed by bad, or sometimes by other good men, and there will still be pain and disease and famine, anger, and hate. But if you work and care and are watchful...then in the long run, the worse will never, ever triumph over the better. And the gifts put into some...shall light the dark corners of life for all the rest, in so brave a world."

May we all strive to light the dark corners of life, in whatever way we can, with whatever gifts we possess.

Josie Has a Friend

A Leaf on the Windshield

I liked the shape against the sky.

And then, when the sun was behind it, strange things happened. It seemed to go transparent. And the barn, that appears on the hill to the right is actually behind me -- reflected in the windshield.

It's Not Easy Being Green

The holiday decorations are going up in Marshall; the Thanksgiving turkey has been reduced to a delicious broth; I've made a start on Christmas cards; now comes the Christmas shopping.

In the past I've relied on John's woodworking and Amazon to do most of the work but, nudged by my daughter-in-law in Atlanta's wish list, I'm investigating some Fair Trade, environmentally and socially active businesses.  I was pleasantly surprised by many and slightly overwhelmed by others. So many choices -- cruelty-free, sustainable, vegan, woman or minority run, politically active-- I applaud the intentions, even as my head swims..

I'm trying to pay special attention to cutting back on plastic--all those sad pictures of sea creatures killed by eating/being trapped by plastic are haunting to me. But it's everywhere-- my toothbrush, my bottle of Dawn for washing dishes, the containers I freeze leftovers in-- the list is endless.

Ever since the early Seventies, I've used cloth napkins rather than paper, composted/fed to chickens food scraps, and tried to follow the maxim "Use it up; Wear it out; Make it do; Do without" -- well, at least the first three quarters of it. 

But today, almost every decision is fraught with difficult choices. I'm just going to have to get better at this. I've taken my own shopping bags to the grocery for years. Now I've asked for reusable cloth produce bags for Christmas. I reuse the plastic bags as much as possible and when I finally dispose of them, I tie them in knots so they won't blow around at the landfill 

Grocery shopping yesterday presented me with a new decision-making opportunity. I needed to buy eggs. (A possum got in our hen house and killed the rooster a few nights ago. The girls were traumatized and their egg output, already low due to the time of year, has dropped off.)

I definitely wanted cage free/free range eggs. Organic would be nice but not a deal breaker. And I wanted a cardboard carton, not foam, not see-through plastic. 

I settled for cage free in cardboard -- all the other candidates were encased in plastic.

Just Another Day With Josie

I Wish I'd Written This . . .Re-Post

"This way -- in here."

His urgency was apparent as he caught me in a firm grasp just above my elbow and guided me into the room -- his room. Then he shut the door and we were alone.

I could feel my heart beating faster as he approached me from behind.  His voice, low and reassuring, was gentle.

"Just relax," he murmured and, with no further warning, reached down. I felt his strong hands at my ankles, gently probing, moving upward along my calves--slowly, oh , so slowly.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.

When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. 

My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my rib cage. and then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. 

Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties. 

Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. 

This, this is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge...a man who won't take no for an answer...a man who will tell me what he wants...who will look into my soul and say... 

"Okay, ma'am, all done."

My eyes snapped open. He was standing in front of me, smiling and holding out my purse.  

"You may board your flight now."

~~~~~~~~

This is one of those funny things that floats around the internet. I don't know who wrote it.  The photos aren't by me either but by Louisa Stokes and Unknown.

For Someone Out There?

Last Sunday I posted a Mary Oliver poem about death. I'm not sure why I chose it--probably something about the bleakness of the season. But then a lovely thing happened.  A few days later I was out doing errands and as I was getting in my car, a neighbor came hurrying across the parking lot. I'd seen on Facebook that her invalid mother had died quite recently and I began to say the things one says. Then my neighbor told me that the poem about death had come at the perfect time -- her mother had died that same day and, the neighbor said, "It felt like you were talking right to me."

Dang! I loved that. Though it briefly made me feel a little like one of those televangelists who close their eyes and are aware of someone in Duluth who is suffering from cancer and then rebukes and casts out the cancer over the airwaves.

Or maybe not.

But when I chose another Mary Oliver poem to post today, I did wonder if it might speak to someone in particular--especially now as we enter the holiday season which mandates joy and is, therefore, so tricky for many, whether from personal griefs or from generalized despair at the sad state of the world today.

Of course, that's the function of good poetry: to speak to us in particular.

"Don't Hesitate" by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
Don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often 
kind. And much can never be redeemed.

Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes 
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that's often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.