Tag: Christmas

Goodwill Hunting Stuff

I undecorated the house on Saturday, organizing and discarding as I worked, so this afternoon I took a large box of unnecessary Christmas decorations to one of our Tallahassee Goodwill locations. 

Of course I couldn’t drop off my donation without first looking around for possible treasures. While I didn’t purchase anything I found a few items that tickled my fancy. 

Little Buddha had a fish…

  

Take a walk on the WILD side.

Seriously, I almost bought this exercise shaker thing. I remember when they were quite the fad.

And how about this lovely fairy dancing with a bunny? I might have nightmares.  
  

I love boxes, and this one seems to have some specific purpose.

  

The question is, what is that purpose?

There were several interesting cigar boxes. I remember using my Grandaddy’s cigar boxes for school supply holders before the surgeon general had his say. 

  

Finally, this young lady seems to have lost whatever it was she carried. I almost bought her, she looked so sad.   

I’ve been ruminating on thrift stores these past few days. What are your thoughts on thrift shopping? I have friends who wouldn’t set foot in one and other friends who swear by them. More later, I think, as I sort through my feelings.

Peace, people!

All Fun and Games

  
Our housekeeper came on the 24th, and Doright Manor was spotless by the time she left: Tiles gleamed, faucets sparkled, and countertops shone. Studly Doright and I enjoyed Christmas Day and Boxing Day in a clean castle. Then the grandchildren arrived, along with the jolly mess that accompanies them everywhere they roam.

Within minutes of the kids’ arrival at midnight on Sunday the house looked like a violent windstorm had blown through. Suitcases exploded flinging clothing hither and yon, chairs that do not normally recline somehow morphed into loungers, and our cabinets were emptied of anything edible. 

And this was all before the gifts were opened. Once that occurred, Doright Manor disappeared beneath acres of brightly colored wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows. There might’ve been actual books, gadgets, and toys in the pile, I’m just not sure they’ll ever be located. 

Thankfully the weather here in the Florida panhandle has been perfect for exploring the outdoors this week. The kids spent hours riding the mini-bike and motorcycle that Studly (a.k.a. Poppa) fixed up for them in the weeks before their arrival. The property surrounding the manor provided a perfect track for our budding bikers.

   
 And we spent a couple of hours learning basic gun safety.

   
 A prodigious amount of tree chopping took place, as well.

  
In other words, we tried to keep them outside as much as possible. 

The crew headed home on New Year’s Day leaving behind a trail of detritus and memories. The house might look like we’ve lost a rousing game of Jumanji, but it was worth every second.

Peace, people.

Undecorating Doright Manor

old me, out of shape
laid low by this holiday
undecorating

  
hips aching, joints creak
too much reaching and bending
Advil take my pain

  
finally finished
celebrate with Shiner Bock
crap! one Santa left

  
I went above and beyond the call of duty today. As a perennial underachiever I don’t say that lightly. Not only did I take down all of my Christmas decorations, but I also organized them, and designated certain pieces for Goodwill and others for the trash. 

I’ve been threatening to do so for the past ten or twelve years, but always managed to talk myself out of it just in time. Now I know why I put off this task for so long. It took me all day and now I hurt everywhere. Apparently I’m not in good enough shape to put away Christmas decorations. That might be the saddest sentence I’ve ever typed. 

Sounds like a great idea for a New Year’s resolution: I resolve to pay someone to do this next year.

Peace, people.

Silent Night

  
I went outside last night hoping to snap a picture of the full moon. Surrounded by trees, Doright Manor doesn’t have the best location for moon viewing, full or otherwise, and the clouds added another hindrance. 

The weather, though, was indecently warm for December, even for Tallahassee, Florida–75 degrees and as humid as a sauna. I wore my favorite flip flops and sang Walking in a Winter Wonderland to the neighborhood. No one threw rotten tomatoes, so I broke into Silent Night for an encore. From across the lake someone called, “Please, oh please!” I chose to take that as a request for more.

Peace, people!

Autocorrect Made My Day

Last night I texted my mother-in-law, Saint Helen, and my eldest sister-in-law, Lyn, a photo of one of my Christmas gifts.

  
This was the ensuing conversation:

  
Oh, autocorrect, you made my evening!

Merry Happy Christmas Holidays

  

Feel the peace and love
Then pass them to another
Hugs work miracles.

From our home to yours
With hearts full of gratitude
Merry Christmas, all.

  

In my childhood home we opened gifts from one another on Christmas Eve then Santa came as we slept that night to leave presents under our tree and in our stockings. Sleeping on Christmas Eve was a tricky thing. We always wanted to stay awake and listen for reindeer hooves on the roof, but we knew Santa wouldn’t come while we were still awake.

My brothers and I would whisper and giggle for as long as possible, listening to the adults visit in the nearby living room. It was a delicious feeling of anticipation. Almost unbearable in a way that nothing else can ever be. 

Sleep always overtook us before Santa appeared, but we were up before the sun rose over the flat Texas panhandle trying to figure out the best way to get our parents up. There was a rule in the Hall household on Christmas morn: 

Parents were required by the powers that be to make certain Santa had indeed visited. Children were by no means to enter the living room before confirmation was made.

Fortunately, Studly Doright’s family celebrated Christmas in a similar manner, so merging our traditions was easy. We only tangled on issues of opening presents early on Christmas Eve day. I was rigid–no opening until after dark. Studly was flexible and could be cajoled into allowing one gift to be opened. Guess who was the kids’ favorite parent? Take your time. (Hint: It wasn’t me.)

Christmas Day was spent playing with our new toys and reading new books, eating turkey and dressing and Christmas desserts. The best day of the entire year.

It was only late on Christmas Day that I’d remember the why of Christmas Day. Oh, we’d sung carols and participated in Nativity scenes, placed baby Jesus in the manger. But somehow it felt like the big day had been Christmas Eve when Christmas Day was the celebration of Christ’s birth. (Yes, I know it was a pagan celebration adopted by Christians as they absorbed cultures into the fold, but it’s the marking of the event that counts, not the exact day.)

Ahem. So, before falling asleep at the end of Christmas Day I always make sure to contemplate the Christmas story, to thank God the Father for sending His son. Really, the only present we need.

Peace, people.

It’s A Wonderful Life, You Know

Christmas Eve at Doright Manor  
George Bailey found out
When prayers sent up saved him
Life is wonderful

 

A gift from our daughter!
 
Although our children
Are far away this Christmas
Their presence is felt

I’m watching my favorite Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. As usual I began crying when young George Bailey prevented the pharmacist, Mr. Gower, from poisoning a young child. Studly Doright wanted to watch the next episode of Fargo, but I argued that we could watch that any old time. 

For once I won the battle for the remote. Studly’s even resisted the urge to flip to another channel during commercial breaks. I love him, even if he did buy me a holster for the gun I received for Christmas last year and still haven’t touched. Love is funny that way.

The cats are both drunk on catnip. 

   
 And I’m just content. I just heard a bell ring, and you know what that means.

 

Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
 
Peace, people!

Our Christmas Letter To You

Tips? We don’t need no stinkin’ tips.

 

Dear family and friends
It’s time once again
To regale you with tales of our year
So without further ado
Here’s our card to you
The little folks we hold so dear:

My husband climbed Mount Everest
Armed with only a flashlight and pen
There’s a parade planned in his honor
If he ever climbs down again.

Our children are both quite successful
As one might expect they would be
Just one notch ahead on the ladder
Of whatever your kids have achieved.

The grandkids, of course, are the smartest,
Most beautiful, bravest, and best,
Whatever they do they earn straight A’s
And live life with unquenchable zest.

As for me, well I’ve remained humble
Through all of the accolades and praise,
With my good looks and sweet disposition
I’m still approachable on odd numbered days.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
And as always, Peace, people!

 

Our illustrious family at Christmas in Nashville last year.

 
 

Most of our family. Our daughter-in-law Liz isn’t pictured.

 

 

Here’s our son and beautiful daughter-in-law, lest you think we don’t allow any photos of her.

 

Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.

A Full Stocking

  
Our Christmas tree is lovely. As I sit here meditating on its beauty I can’t help but think of all of the wonderful events my family celebrates in December, all the reasons my Christmas stocking is full.
Our oldest grandson, Garrett, celebrated his 13th birthday on December 6. He’s still Nana’s little boy, though.

Then
Now

My mother’s birthday would have been the 7th. She was the undisputed Queen of Christmas and I miss her every day even though we seldom saw eye to eye. She’s probably busy filling stockings for all the angels in heaven. Stockings were her thing, now they’re my thing.

 

December 19 would have been Mom and Dad’s anniversary. This is my favorite photo of the two of them. They never had much in the way of material wealth; although, they enjoyed some comfortable years. 

 

Another happy day, December 20, 2010, the date Stephen Houzenga adopted our grandchildren. He took on a ready-made family and changed all of our lives for the better.  

 

Of course December 25 is a day of celebration. Last year Studly and I were able to enjoy it with our kids in Nashville. We rented a home there for the holiday and had one of the best Christmases in memory.

Here we are at The Escape Game. What an adventure! We almost escaped. All we needed was another hour or so….

  

Finally, our middle grandchild, McKayla, celebrates her birthday on the 26th. She’ll be 11 this year. Here she is about to perform in her first band concert. Gorgeous, smart, and talented.

  

I hope your Christmas stockings are filled with great memories and reasons to celebrate.

Peace, people!

Tantrum

Studly Doright and I were chilling out at Doright Manor. We’d just purchased season 1 of Fargo and had settled in to watch. Studly had the white fuzzy throw on his lap, and I had plucked our newest crocheted throw off the back of the sofa to keep things cozy. Soon Scout, our elder cat, settled herself on my lap and began purring. 

That’s when Patches lost it. Our normally timid younger kitty ran around like a mini-banshee, howling and scratching, shaking with fury. After tearing around the den for three full minutes she finally stopped her tirade and sat glaring at us from under the Christmas tree. Studly and I watched in amused bewilderment. Bemuserment, if you will.

Then it occurred to me that Patches had claimed the new throw. In fact, she’d been napping on it nonstop almost from the moment we brought it home from the Christmas party where we’d been fortunate enough to win it.

Patches was pissed that Scout was snuggled on the throw she’d claimed as her own. Like any younger sibling who’d been deprived of her favorite blankie Patches was throwing a tantrum.

Once we figured out the cause of distress I eased Scout from my lap and returned the throw to Patches who snuggled down immediately. Now Scout is peacefully sleeping near the tree and all is right with our world at Doright Manor.

   
 Peace, people!