Lesson 111: White Christmas?

Here is the Erie weather forecast, Readers.  A white Christmas looks iffy. Just in case we have mud instead of snow this year, here is a nice Rascal Flatts rendition of White Christmas with a picture scroll of some pretty winter scenes to keep you pacified until the inevitable is upon us---snow, snow, and more snow.

• Dec 22

  Mostly cloudy and cooler46°Lo 31°

• Tomorrow

  Dec 23

  Colder with snow showers32°Lo 29°

  more

• Saturday

  Dec 24

  Partly sunny38°Lo 30°

  more

• Sunday

  Dec 25

  Mostly cloudy with flurries44°Lo 29°

  more

Two days away until Santa arrives and Sam is about as excited as a kid could be.  Do you remember the Christmas when you were four?  Sam and Santa have had kind of a sordid history.  He's never really been a fan---never wanted to sit on his lap at the mall and asked me last year if the elves could bring his presents instead.  Here is one of my favorites from a few years ago:


 This is a classic.

 This is Sam this year, looking all grown up and serious having a heart to heart with Santa at a family party.

We found this Santa in The Middle of Nowhere, PA at a hidden little hideaway in the woods.  When we entered his workshop, Santa had a fire going in the wood stove with a pot of hot cocoa warming on top.  Santa scooped out the sweet treat with a ladle  and gave out cinnamon rolls to eat.  Sam had an extra opportunity to tell what was on his list this year--unfortunately WWE wrestling action figures and boxing gloves topped it (Lord, help me).

The girls thought they were too cool to sit on Santa's lap this year, but I made them anyway.  They asked for "presents" (guess who) and "world peace" again.  They are happy to have some time off school and have the opportunity to sleep in--a 'tween and teens joy.








On the way down the stairs a couple of morning's ago, a slitty-eyed Sam asked in a voice still thick with the previous night's sleep, "Mom, what really happens to kids on the Naughty List?"  I have a terrible habit of answering a question with a question, but I couldn't resist in this instance.  I replied, "Why, Sam?  Do you think you are on the Naughty List?"  "No," he said, "just wonderin'."


Here's my favorite rendering of Santa checking his list created by the legendary Norman Rockwell.  I love all the faces of the children in the background.  I took a peek and thankfully Natalie, Ellen, and Sam are on the Good List this year.

Green or white, I am looking forward to a good Christmas and I hope you are too.

Ho, Ho, Ho!
Eloise

Lesson 110: Christmas Ponies

Remember this Christmas commercial, Readers?  The above post was the 1987 version of the Budweiser commercial from Anheuser-Busch.  The images of those clydesdales pulling that sleigh through the snow are burned into my brain in part because of that memorable tune playing in the background.  That is one of the reasons I usually include pictures and music with my words.  There is just something magical about the combination of all three that makes a lasting impression if you get it right.  I don't always do that, but that is my aim.  Watch the above video for a little blast of nostalgia.

I can't give too much praise to Anheuser-Busch because they stole my favorite beer away from Latrobe, Pennsylvania.  They moved the making of my Rolling Rock to the dumb state of New Jersey.  Eloise is loyal and I like what I like.  And I prefer what I like to stay with me in my great state.  The best way to drink it is in little green bottles called ponies.  When you are done, they make killer bud vases.  This is what they look like in case you want to buy me a case.  If you look closely you will see the mention of Old Latrobe and the mystery number 33 on the back.  If you want something to really entertain you, look that one up on a search engine.  It will be even more fun if you are searching while drinking one.

All this talk of ponies and sleigh rides got me to thinking about my sleigh ride last weekend with my family.  It was really fun.  Below are some pictures of our experience.

This was last year's open sleigh on runners.  Erie had one heck of an early start to its winter last year and by mid December we already had ourselves a nice, thick snow base.

This is the "sleigh" we rode in this year---it's the Plan B if there isn't enough snow.  The Middle of Nowhere, PA did get a few inches (truly, don't ask me for directions because I still don't know where we were) making the ride picture pretty.




This is a picture of some scenery you drive past to get there.  The sleigh pulls you through a wooded loop, past a couple of ponds, and through hemlock trees with low lying branches.  When the sleigh bumps them everyone gets showered with snow.  It really is picturesque.

Sam could not resist the opportunity to sling a snowball.  Told you he was a southpaw.

 This is one of the horses.  Look at his size compared to Ellen.  The owner of the farm told us that the horse weighs 2,780 pounds.  Now that is a lot of horsepower!






The sleigh stopped at Santa's hidden workshop in the middle of the woods in The Middle of Nowhere, PA.  I got out to take a snapshot.  You can see a figure in the back of the sleigh who wanted to make sure she got the best seat on the return trip---Natalie.





This is a horse that lives on the farm where Sam goes to Pre School.  His name is Moses.  I couldn't resist a snapshot of him the other morning.  I hate to tell him that I really hate horses.  I am scared to death of them.  Of horses and roller coasters---Eloise is not a fan.







Now here is one horse-like creature that I adore.  Do you recognize him, Readers?  It's Nestor the Long Eared Donkey.  It is probably my all time favorite Christmas story.  You can catch it once in awhile airing on some cable or dish channel if you surf around. If you were a child of the 70's like I was, this type of animated character was popular then--the Rudolph type figures that moved in jerky steps and cried teardrops of real water.

In fact, here is one of Nestor crying those water droplet tears.  You'd be crying too if you saw this part.  The beginning is worse than Bambi, let me tell you that.  Nestor gets picked on by bullies in the barn because of his big ears.  His Momma protects him by telling him that he is kind and good and special.  Then somehow Momma and Nestor get locked out of the barn in a snowstorm and Momma covers Nestor with her body to protect him from the cold.  Nestor wakes the next morning only to find that his mother has died and sacrificed herself to save her son.  It's a killer, so have a box of Kleenex ready (and a pony bottle--those help, too).  Stick with the story because Nestor gets the most special job of all.  Watch the movie to find out.

I hope your last few days of preparation are going well and you found a five minute reprieve to read this story.  So what is the point of my lesson today?  It is this:  Find your Christmas pony--either pulling a sleigh, on a retro Christmas show, or in a tiny green bottle. I've experienced all three and they are all good.

Enjoy the anticipation of the good things to come,
Eloise

Lesson 109: 5 Days Left--Can You Handel It?

The High School Chorus traveled around to the elementary schools this week to perform their holiday show.  They do it every year.  I always look forward to seeing the older kids come back.  It is fun to watch them grow and change.  They sing songs for us, and lead us in some carols for a sing along, but my favorite number is the last song, the last one performed every year--George Handel's Hallelujah Chorus from his Messiah.  The music teacher gives the elementary students a little history lesson every year about how King George stood for this song (no Slovenians, not George Bush--he just thought he was king), and ever since people have been on their feet when this song has been sung.

Eloise will give you a little history lesson on surely one of my dear departed German Brothers in Song--George Frederic Handel.   Given all my natural born musical talent (note sarcasm) I am sure I am on some twig of his family tree.  In fact, some of my German relatives were part of the Seibenburger Singing Society in Erie.  Sorry to say I didn't get one shred of those genes passed down to me.  Bummer.

 Here is his picture:


Now we have solved the mystery where my hair comes from. I guess I got those genes instead of the musical talent (yes, it's a joke, I am aware its a wig--but I still ask WHY?).  Historians also describe Handle as large boned and loud.  He had a kind and generous spirit and was known for donating to charities even in the face of his own personal bankruptcy.  Handle was raised a Lutheran and was a devout follower of the Christian faith.  I liked what one Internet source stated about him:  He was relentless optimist whose faith in God sustained him through every difficulty.  Raised as a sincere Lutheran, he harbored no sectarian animosities and steered clear of denominational disagreements.  Once, defending himself before a quarrelsome archbishop, Handel simply replied, “I have read my Bible very well, and will choose for myself.”



Things would be a lot simpler for Christians if we all took up that attitude.  Here is another portrait.  Handel looks confused.  He probably was ticked off at the artist who was rendering his likeness.  I spent more time laughing at the google images of Handel than I did researching, I think.

One character trait that defined Handle was his obstinate and stubborn nature.  Those traits which are prevalent in my family lineage can work to either your advantage or disadvantage.  In Handel's case, his took the form of persistence and he continued to work away at his dream of composing even at his worst of times.  His faith got him through the dark parts of his life and Hallelujah for that!  In fact he wrote a whole chorus about it.

I sum up Handel's contribution to music by borrowing the worlds from Patrick Kavanaugh, author of Spiritual Lives of the Great Composers.  He states:  Handle refused to be deterred by setbacks, attacks, illnesses, or even sever financial woes.  It is a tribute to the faith and optimism Handel possessed, relying on God as he worked to overcome significant obstacles and to create music that is universally cherished today.   Nicely put, Pat.


While I was researching Handel, I found out that Bach was also born in Germany the same year, although the two composers never crossed paths.  Bach really has nothing to do with this piece except for the fact that his portrait cracked me up, too.  Laughter helps ease holiday stress, they say.







I guess the appeal of the beautiful Hallelujah chorus lies in its simplicity.  The word Hallelujah is broken into four parts, but the first note is held, so it goes like this:  HAAAAAAAA-le-lu-jah!  It was new and catchy at the time.  Another music historian also notes that the "King of kings, Lord of lords" is the same note repeated but played at higher somethings or other.  Like math, I don't know or understand music.  I am just a fan in awe of the people who do.

I see from the above posted video that I am not the only one in awe of this song or those individuals whom are talented enough (and in the video, brave enough) to sing this in a mall's food court.  This was part of a "Flash Mob" that has become popular in the last couple of years.  For those of you who are still in the dark about he concept, you obviously have a computer because you are reading this blog, so google the term to save the rest of us the boredom of an explanation.  I love not only those singing, but he reaction of the bystanders who were lucky enough to be in the right place in the right time.  Look for the one blond who keeps on eating though.  I feel like screaming, "Hey Lady!  Put down your fork for a minute!  This is a once in a lifetime thing to be witness to a Flash Mob involving this song!"

There has been a commercial airing from time to time on a Flash Mob gone wrong.  Click here for a chuckle   I've always desired to be part of one, but this would be me.


Eloise is of German ancestry and I really don't give much thought to it aside from Christmas time. Christmas brings with it the need to carry on traditions of our parents and grandparents.  Because America is the big melting pot, many holiday traditions abound in this country and they are neat to hear about.  One of the traditions of German people is in the making of gingerbread houses.  This custom was popularized with my Boyz, the Brothers Grimm (Eloise is a lover of fairy tales).  They recorded the Germanic tale of Hansel and Gretel.  They are the lost and starving brother-sister duo known best for nibbling at the witch's candy house, getting captured, and living to tell about it.  

Here are some that we made in our house this week.  They sure are cute, but the problem is where do I put them?

This is Ellen's house.  She's my artsy one.  Ellen and com padre Em made these last weekend.  Not too shabby.

Here is Natalie working on hers.  

Here is Sam's finished product.  Notice his shirt covered with frosting.  You should have seen the pants.

Here is Eloise's.  Not too shabby.  I didn't get Handel's musical talent, but at least he gave me art and design and baking ability..............
Yeah right.  Thank you for the dream Google Images.





Christmas is 5 days away.  I have no business making a mess in my kitchen with gingerbread houses when I still have shopping to do, presents to wrap, and now a sticky floor to mop.  However, Christmas and the traditions that come with it are important.  They are worth the mess.

Again, let me reiterate--CHRISTMAS IS 5 DAYS AWAY.  Can you Handel it?


HAAAAA-le-lu-jah,
Eloise

Lesson 108: Winter Snow

Don't worry about the message in the video screen above, Readers.  You can still watch my suggested video this week by clicking on the Watch on You Tube.  It will take you right to the video.  Blogger restricts some content that YouTube allows.  No problem.  The link will take you out, and you can always come back in.

If the song sounds familiar, I did post the same one last year, but a different video.  It is one of my very favorite Christmas songs.  Don't be fooled into thinking that the song is about winter snowflakes, despite what you see on the screen.  Listen carefully and watch how cleverly scenes from Bethlehem unfold before your eyes.  It is simply beautiful.  This is a song about God sending his love to the earth:
it came like a winter snow, 
quiet, 
soft, 
and slow, 
falling from the sky,
in the night, 
to the earth below


Watch and listen and see if you get the same reaction I do; it gives me goosebumps.
***************************************************************************

Yeah!  You came back!  Just like the winter in Erie, you have returned.  Winter comes round every year, but the amount of snow it brings is unpredictable.  I watched Miss Perky Weather Girl as I was sweating out the holiday stress on the treadmill earlier this week.  She reported that Erieites are fourteen inches in snowfall BELOW last year.  We had an early start to last winter and the snow seemed to last forever.  Because there is always a balance in nature, this December I've found myself traveling to the mall to Christmas shop on dry roads.  We had a bit to cover the ground last weekend, just enough to get everyone in the Christmas spirit.  We had a warm up to a balmy 51 degrees this week, so the winter white quickly turned to a muddy brown. To remind you of what a winter snow looks like, especially to my friend Tracy Southern, here are some snapshots from last week's touch of winter white.
This was the sunrise from my front porch.

The sun hitting the horse corral across the street.

I love how the glow came out on this one.  I did not boost or enhance any of these shots.

This one is my favorite, which is why I made it big.  Too bad I sent my cards out already.  This would have been a good one.
















These are grape vines, Slovenians.  Actually, my college roommate from Pittsburgh on her first trip to Erie asked, "What's growing on those sticks?  Cranberries?"  Glad to inform you all she went on to become a science teacher.

 I love holly.  You can do something really cool with it that I do every year.  Take one bowl with kind of a flat bottom and put another smaller bowl inside of it leaving a circular gap between the two.  Fill the gap with boughs of holly clipped from your holly bush.  Then fill the gap with water to the top.  Set the bowls in the freezer for a couple of hours.  Remove and you will have a ring of ice with holly and berries frozen inside.  I put my holiday dips inside the ice ring.  Humor me and try it.  It's the only Martha Stewartish thing I do.


 This is the AWESOME poinsettia plant I bought from the Harbor Creek girls basketball team for their fundraiser.  I splurged on the big one because it was for the school.  I also never bought a white one before, but thought I'd be adventurous this year.  Wow, was I surprised!  It is absolutely beautiful and I am looking forward to that gracing my home all winter long.

 Those big petals remind me of snowflakes.  Exactly one year ago today, snowflakes fell just like this--almost this size.  They were as big as tea cup saucers.  I remember the day well because I never saw a snowfall like that day.  It was beautiful.

Sunday my family is scheduled for a sleigh ride in the middle of nowhere.  I hope I can find the place again.  Last year we rode on a sleigh pulled by a team of horses through the woods to Santa's workshop where we were served cookies and hot cocoa.  The sleigh slid easily over all of that piled up snow.  This year I don't know if it will have the same feel.  I guess the place has a backup farm wagon in case there is no snow.  I don't know if bumping through the rutted mud will have quite the same effect---plus Sam is a bit nervous this year about meeting Santa.  He keeps asking me what really happens to kids who are on the Naughty List.

We had a windy night the other night and lo and behold, when I arose in the morning, look which of my deer fell over---the doe. She too, was probably exhausted, overworked, and under appreciated, so she just fell over dead.  If I don't get a nap in this weekend, I just might do the same. My kids need me, so I am signing off now.

Don't let all of the work involved with this holiday ruin the anticipation of what's to come.  Sometimes the waiting and wondering is the very best part.
Merry Christmas, Readers.
Eloise

Lesson 107: A Chip Off the Old Block

I opened an unexpected gift today.  It was in my inbox so it didn't need unwrapping, just a double click to unlock it, because how do you unwrap a song?  Eloise is Tim McGraw's number one fan, and because I am a loyal voting member of his fan club, I was alerted to his free song Christmas All Over the World.  Yes, it's really free and you can find it here, too.  Give it a listen by clicking here:  Christmas All Over the World by Handsome.  You'll be sure to love it.

I was kinda' bummin' because I had been on a search of Tim McGraw Christmas songs and I came up dry.  It seems as my Hero in the Black Hat hasn't produced a Christmas album.  That comes as a surprise as he is a Christian and even has the world faith tattooed on his arm.  (Oh crap!  That's his wife's name.  Darn it all.  Way to ruin my vision).  I did come across this pairing of Tim and Alicia Keys on the Oprah Show singing one of my favorites, Happy Christmas.  It made me happy (because he was wearing his black hat) and sad (because I realized how much I miss Oprah).  Yet I still felt that you may enjoy the duet, hence the above posting.

Tim's not just my hero because he's handsome.  You have to look deeper than that and Eloise isn't that shallow.  He's a steady singer, sweet and simple---never over the top--just consistently good.  I saw him in concert this summer and he's a great performer and knows how to play a crowd.  Tim's proven himself as a good actor, too and stars in one of my favorite movies, The Blind Side.  He's a democrat and even has considered running for public office.  But the most interesting part of Handsome is his backstory.

Tim McGraw was born to a single mom, a waitress who did her best to make a life for her musically talented and athletically inclined son.  Mother was a proud woman and chose to have a go at raising Tim alone, and never told her son who his father was.  As a boy, Tim came across his birth certificate while looking for something.  Imagine his surprise to find that his father was none other than Tug McGraw, a relief pitcher for the New York Mets.  According to a few Internet sources, Tug McGraw denied for years that Tim was his son.  When the two met later when Tim was a teenager, Tug could no longer deny that Tim was his son due to the striking resemblance between them.  A real chip off the old block that could not be denied.  What you do think, Readers?  See below:


 This is Tug.











This is Tim (minus the hat).







I'd say the resemblance is quite uncanny.


I am happy to report that the two did make room for one another in their lives and that is a good thing because Tug took an early exit out of this life with brain tumor in 2004.  Tim wrote this famous title track, Live Like You We're Dying about his father's death.

As a parent, you are always looking to see how your children are like you.  It doesn't matter if your children are your genetic offspring or if they are adopted, fostered, or step.  Anyone who spends time with a child during his formative years has an impact and traits or habits eventually show through and are passed onto another generation.  Eloise herself is going through this as I am raising my three children.  Sometimes I think that is really cool and other times I cringe.


 Let's take for example my Natalie.  Here she is with her iPod.  It rarely is out of her hand.  The kid listens to music constantly.  Just as Ellen taught Natalie to scream McDONALDS!!  every time we drove by the restaurant, I taught her this little number:  Who's your favorite singer, Natalie?  TIM McGRAW!!! she screams.  Love it.  A chip off the old block.  That's pretty cool.


Then comes Ellen, so named for her mother and Grandmother--Eloise + Helen.  With that kind of name she's bound to have some of my traits, right?  Ellen resembles me the least out of my brood but is most like me in one area that stands out--her writing.  This is a sample of one of her narrative writing pieces she did for school.  The girl writes with ease and has been begging me for her own blog which she wants to title:  Life Inside The Lamp Post:  An Insider's View.  (No lie, she came up with that title---and the answer is NO--an 11 year old doesn't need to be blogging, but I know paybacks are going to be hell for me someday).  Her story is titled The Steel Dragon and is a real life account of her first roller coaster ride.  For those of you who know me well, Eloise is a chicken and has some crazy fear of roller coasters.  My daughter has seemed to have a similar disliking, right down to the upchucking in a garbage can after the fateful ride.  Ellen's wit often emerges in her written words more so than in her spoken words.  That is really cool, too.  And speaking of wit and writing................................

...... onward to my son Sam.  Recently we drew a line in the sand (well, on the kitchen linoleum) over a slice of peeled apple he refused to eat.  He protested.  He whined.  He cried.  He threated to move in next door with Grandma and Grandpa.  (Did you hear that?  That was the squealing of van tires--my parents are making the great escape).  After two hours of empty verbal threats, Sam switched strategies.  He decided that perhaps a formal, written approach would get him a little further.  He made this sign.  It is a drawing of an apple with a worm head sticking out of it (in the middle) with a big X through it.  Underneath he has written his name backwards (to the left) and my name on the right, which is correct because even backwards my name works.  I asked him what his sign said and Sam replied the following:  "Mudders (still can't say that "th" sound) should not make their sons eat apples that taste like turds."  My reply, "It takes one to know the taste." 2 hours and 24 minutes later he finally ate the #$& apple and complained because the flesh had turned brown.  But I won.  Yeah for me.  Stubborn my boy is---you could say that.  A chip off the old block?  Well, I guess you could say that, too.  Cringe!

Here is Sam during one of his better moments, lining up his Toy Story characters and taking pictures of them.  A chip off the old block?  I guess so.

He's also a funny little thing, just like Eloise.  I love a good laugh.  Sam has taken the liking to making up jokes.  He picks up any book he finds and pretends he's reading us jokes out of it.  Here is one of his recent ones:  Why did the chicken cross the playground?  To get to the other SLIDE!  The joke isn't as funny as Sam cackling like a lunatic over the punch line.  The best part is that he grabbed a book from my bedside table where I keep my nighttime reads.  Didn't he grab Hell's Corner by David Baldacci??  Little Devils must be naturally attracted to the word Hell.   He calls it his Jokety Joke Book.  I guess the jokes on him.

At home, Sam is a laugh and a half.  At school and in public he's a bit unpredictable to say the least.  This is Sam's preschool class performing the Christmas play on Friday.  Can you spot Sam?  Look closely.  Keep looking............................................. you are bound to see him...............................now where would my boy be....................................?

 Oh now, lookey here!?!?!   Who could that be peeking out from behind the stage curtain refusing to go on stage and sing.  Hmmmm..........

It was none other than Precious Himself.  The cutest little reindeer of the herd who opted to stand off stage the entire Christmas play.  I would have busted him about it, but I kept seeing myself on that very stage when I was young and I remembered how much I hated it.  Eloise was the shyest of shy kids and being in the spotlight put me in a panic.  Who would have thunk it that one day I would grow up to be a teacher of all things?!?!?!   Sam--again another sliver of ice chipped off this big, blond block.

To show you that he survived, Readers, here is his picture after the show.  Sam came running to us and said, "Didn't I do great!?!?!"  Yes you did Sam.  You did your momma proud.

Here is one final picture of Sam from this weekend smudging up my freshly Windexed window as he usually does.  As you can see from the scene we are literally chipping ice once again in Erie.  Winter has set in with its first significant snowfall.  Just an inch to cover the grass and make the sidewalks icy--but in December, who doesn't mind a little Christmas snow?   It's exciting.


The first winter snow is about as exciting and unpredictable as raising kids---especially mine.  I know some blizzards are coming, but they eventually will blow through.  I wouldn't trade my three for anything in the world.  They are the chips from my block and I am as proud of them as any mother could be.

Happy Christmas, Readers.
Eloise

Lesson 106: Merry Christmas

I turned my calendar page to December, and now I can light up my tree without the fear of an elf drowning some innocent baby reindeer on the North Pole.  The December calendar page is preprinted with several holiday celebrations bringing with it the great debate of over holiday greetings.  How should Christians greet people during the month of December: with  the traditional well wishing of "Merry Christmas" or the more politically correct version of "Happy Holidays"?

Eloise has been following the facebook and internet chatter surrounding this issue for a week or so now.  As with any topic, we seem to be split right down the middle with the favor leaning toward whomever is reporting   the generalization.  It seems everyone from young to old and from all walks of life have thoughts on this issue. Intelligent responses to this dilemma are found on either side of the argument.  I have read some excellent commentary and am somewhat amused as to how much thought and time are put into something as a simple Christmastime greeting.  But what we give our time and thoughts is an illustration of what we hold dear.  I am glad that our faith and how it is expressed is still so important to us.  It the issue seems to boil down to the acts of either stepping out into a greeting of firm faith or wrapping ourselves in the blanket of respect for others and religious tolerance.

Eloise leans to the right on this one, the more traditional, conservative "Merry Christmas".  The most obvious argument is that I am a Christian and its my holiday after all.  Also, when else during the calendar year can you  use the term "Merry?"  "Merry Birthday!"  Nope.  "Merry Fourth of July!"  Don't think so.  "Merry Halloween!"  God no.  Merry just goes with Christmas.  Speaking the word itself makes you feel the jingling of bells rolling off of your tongue.  Merry goes with Christmas like peanut butter goes with jelly.  They blend together to make a wonderful taste that cannot be replicated.  We can celebrate other holidays, but Christmas has that special flavor of its own.

But with my encouragement of the use of Merry Christmas, I also ask you to use caution.  Read the room, folks.  Exercise some social awareness and use a little good judgment.  I try to teach my students this all of the time.  It begins with, " Read the room.  When the teacher is talking, do not get up and sharpen your pencil.  That is rude."  There is a time and place for everything.  Don't plant yourself outside a Mosque and greet all passersby with a hearty Merry Christmas! and get pissed off when they don't smile back.  Remember what Eloise says, there is a time and place for everything.  I do believe Ecclesiastes reads that, too.


Always keep in mind that the Pilgrims who crossed the sea to get here did so to seek religious freedoms.  Yes, they were Christians.  But the "freedom of religion" part applies to all and that is what makes our country so great.  We must never tamper with our freedom to choose.

During her private life outside of school, Eloise pretty much keeps to herself.  I make my living talking, teaching, telling stories, and writing.  In my moments alone when I am shopping at a store for example, I am reluctant to strike up a conversation with a stranger standing next to me in line.  It's not because I am grumpy or tired or antisocial---I'm just plain old tired of talking.

But December is different.  There is a buzz in the air, especially in retail and grocery stores as Christians are bustling about making their holiday preparations.  It's when we come in contact with people--waiting in line with shopping carts full of toys and food.  Christians can usually spot one another.  The heaping carts are a dead giveaway.  Also the telltale dark circles under a woman's eyes are another clue that she may be preparing for Christmas.  I'm easy to spot.  When I shop, I shop big and my cart is over flowing.  I usually dress in festive red and I always am wearing a cross around my neck.  I am of German decent and man do my people love to  party at Christmastime.  I'm all for a party, so I always have a smile despite the long lines, the melted debit card, and the lack of sleep.  It's safe to greet me with a "Merry Christmas" as I will surely shoot one back at ya'.

So I am urging you, like my students, to read the room.  If someone is wearing clothing or jewelry in an obvious display of  a different faith, hold back from a greeting and just a smile to your human brother will be enough.  Once in recent history I missed.  I shot a "Merry Christmas" to the gentleman behind me in line at K-Mart who also had a cartload of toys.  His surly response to me was, "I'm an atheist."  I was quite taken aback and the cashier and I glanced at one another in a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Eloise is quick witted, but fortunately I have a pretty tight screen between what I think and what I say.  I thank God for that balance He gave me or else I wouldn't have a friend left in the world.  My first thought was, "Wow--even atheists aren't afraid to take advantage of a good December toy sale."  Instead I said nothing.  As I pushed my shopping cart through the rutted December slush in the parking lot, I thought of numerous responses I could have said.  Do you ever do that?  Think of great things you should have said after the fact. I had ideas running the gamut from "You poor, lost soul" to a vision of me putting up my dukes and taking a swing at this very rude man.  But in time, I let it go but I still think of it as a lost opportunity to capture another potential Christian by telling him what he's missing out on.  People tell me I am a great storyteller, and I am sure by the end of a five minute conversation with the man he would have been a convert.

So this year you will be receiving a big fat Merry Christmas from me as shown on my video greeting card.  It is a collection of the well wishers I poke the most fun at on this blog--my family, my sister, and my parents.  I made the video with Ellen's flip camera and I do believe this contraption will revolutionize the way cards are sent.  Plus it is so easy a baboon could do it.  For those close family and friends who receive my annual card, I must issue this warning.  I'm making my own list this year.  It is a list of all of you card-receiving people's names---and believe me it's a long one.  Here it is:

And if you're asking yourself, "What's with the fish?" let's just say it is one of those things that makes a house a home.  Ellen caught a palomino trout and begged to have it mounted.  It didn't seem like a bad idea at the time, until I got the bill for a fossilized fish and later realized I had to find somewhere to put it.  Now it greets visitors in my entryway.

Eloise is taking a serious look at her holiday greeting cards this year.  This is what we call at school "Data Collection."  We have teams of people who analyze test scores, determine areas in need of skill development, and analyze data to determine if a project or program is worth the time and money.   Eloise has too come to this crossroads in her life:  Is sending the paper mail Christmas card worth it anymore?  My friend Heather even blogged about it this week.


As a lover of words, books, and paper, I cannot imagine NOT sending holiday cards.  They are as much as a trademark for me as is my tresses.  Once, in a futile effort to try to look thinner, I chopped all of my hair off.  I looked just like George Washington on the dollar bill.  After I came to terms with what I had done over the weekend, I went to school on a Monday and was greeted by a First Grader.  She stopped looked at me, and stuck out her bottom lip.  I paused and bent down to eye level and asked her what the problem was.  She reached out and touched my ear length hair and said, "I was remembering when you used to be pretty."  Leave it to a kid to give you a reality check.  I guess the sporty new cut didn't do a thing for me.   One year when my father in law was sick I did not send out cards. So many people came to me and said, "I missed your card this year.  I always look forward to yours arriving in the mail."  Would ceasing of my holiday tradition make Eloise a little less "pretty" this holiday?

In time my hair grew back, and over time my Christmas card list has been growing and growing and GROWING!  Apparently the people I meet every year always outweigh the ones who die or cut me out of their lives for some reason.  The process is time consuming, but I have always enjoyed it.  Yet, even though I send out more and more cards every year, I seem to receive less in return.  Some have commented to me, "I just don't send cards anymore.  It's not worth the time."  Think about that.  Taking some time to greet your family member, friend, and neighbor with a written version of Merry Christmas IS WORTH IT.  The time it took that person to remember you, look up your address, and send it off with the jolly postman shows that YOU MATTER.  I MATTER.  So send me a card, and I won't be mad at you if it says Happy Holidays.  To each, his own.  It is a free country.

And to the grumpy, mustached atheist who was standing behind me in line, I hope this blog finds its way to your inbox.  Remember me?  I'm that dingy looking blond with the big smile that you deflated for a moment in time.  God has a way of making things like this find you.  Perhaps you've converted to Christianity and you'll end up sitting beside me at Church on Christmas Eve.  I can't wait, because I want to have the chance to tell you something I should have a few years ago---"Merry Christmas, Mister."  It's never too late to send that message.

Merry Christmas, Readers.  Enjoy all the joys that December brings.
Eloise

Lesson 105: Deck the Halls

Eloise has survived Thanksgiving and is looking forward to another day and a half off.  You smart Slovenians are looking at the time of this posting, assuming Eloise has made an error, but I haven't.  Eloise is a Pennsylvanian and we typically extend our Thanksgiving holidays through Monday due to deer season.  Not reindeer, so don't panic.  The Lamp Post isn't that far north.  Deer as in white tailed deer, our state animal.  It is legal to shoot them come Monday.  The woods are full of hunters and malls and movie theaters are typically full of women and kids.  Schools are closed, so the Monday after Thanksgiving has become just another Christmas prep day for Eloise.  I think I am attacking the greeting cards tomorrow.

I can look back at Thanksgiving with no regrets.  Everything was great: food, family, friends, and the weather here in northern Pennsylvania.  It was unseasonably warm for Erie, which allowed old Eloise some long runs outside--her favorite thing.  On Thanksgiving morning I was almost feeling some regret that I didn't run the annual Turkey Trot race out on the Peninsula.  I am not a huge fan of organized races.  I run because my girls like them and only register under the names of dead US Presidents.  This year many urged me to come out and the weather was actually agreeable.  But the thought of 4,000 people and Port a Potties was not appealing to me on Thanksgiving morning, so the loner that I am headed out on the local roads solo.


What do you do out there all that time? someone once asked me.  I think, I plan, I reflect, I sing, I pray, and I flat out enjoy my time of solitude.   I got to thinking about a very vivid dream I had--something that was going to happen in the year 2021.  That gave me some hope because now that we are careening toward that fateful Mayan year of 2012, some of us are doubting whether we'll be here to see it.  Then I got to kind of feeling regretful that I didn't register for the race under James Madison, 40 year old female.  I got a peek at the shirt for this year and it was really cool---long sleeved purple tee with both front and back designs.  I loved it and was wishing I had one to show off this weekend.  I said to myself, Geez God, I should have run that race.   I'm a lousy mom.  I should have done it for the girls and we could have all worn our matching shirts this weekend.  Forgive me for being a selfish person and give me the strength and patience to run that race next year.  


CLUNK, TRIP, SKID, STOP.   That was what I did not 20 seconds after I had my little breathless conversation with The Lord.  I stepped on something and I had to back track to see what it was.

When I retraced my steps, I found that I had actually stepped upon a black t-shirt, crumpled up and wet, lying just outside of the community park entrance where the Legion Ball players have their games in the fall.  Cool!  I got me a t-shirt anyhow!  Thanks, God. This is the shirt:

On the back it even had a 21---like the year 2021, so I took that as some sort of sign that we are all going to be still around, probably trying to find the next time the planets will align or resurrect another ancient culture who predicted the world's impending doom.

When I got home, I rinsed the t-shirt out in the sink, and noticed that the jersey also had a front.  Cool--- a two sided shirt, just like the Turkey Trot one.  Wow, God, you really are awesome.  Thanks so much!  The shirt looked quite big, but I thought with a couple of washings in hot water with liquid Lysol, it may shrink up a bit.  I didn't recognize the logo on the front, but went down to the basement to toss the tee in the agitator, and decided to google the name.  This is the front of the shirt:

OK now Readers.  Let's test your read-between-the-lines comprehension skills.  Modern Adult superstore.  Both the male and female symbols inside the O.  Hmmmm..now what could that be............................?    So now Old Eloise is thoroughly confused.  Sign or no sign? I guess we'll all just have to wait and see.

Sam found me upon my return up the basement steps from the t-shirt washing.  I left for my long run well before he was awake and he hadn't seen me yet.  The little guy has grown used to my long weekend runs, and he came running at me with a big smile and his arms outstretched to hug me.  "Oh Mommy!  I missed you!  How far did you go today?"  I told him that I went a long way and that he could ride along with me when we went out in the car to see how far it was.  Yes, I hear ya'.  I know about Map My Run.com but I think it is more rewarding for me to track my route in my car because sometimes I can't believe I went as far as I did.  Riding the route in a car makes it seem like a bigger accomplishment.

Sam hugged me around my waist as his head is just even with my abdomen now.  I patted his little head with his freshly buzzed holiday haircut.  Sam leaned back and looked up at me with his big blue eyes and one dimpled cheek.  He smiled and said, "Oh Mommy, I just love how the fat on your belly is so warm and squishy after you run.  It makes me love you."  And the little %$#@ turned and walked away.  Ellen was frozen, mid bite of her breakfast cereal waiting to see what I'd do.  After a long moment of breathless, frozen silence, I said to no one in particular, "Be glad it's Thanksgiving." 

Funny, yes.  But I read something even more comical on facebook about a week ago.  It was a snarky comment about people who put up Christmas decorations too early, as in prior to Thanksgiving.  This doesn't really bother old Eloise.  Some people with extended families living far away have to celebrate their Christmases on Thanksgiving and who can do that without a lit Christmas tree.  I get that, so this is no dig on my part.   But this saying; it's just too funny not to share: Every time a Christmas tree is lit before Thanksgiving, somewhere on the North Pole an elf drowns a baby reindeer.  A horrific thought for sure, but clever indeed.

Eloise won't flip her calendar page to December until Thursday, but I use Thanksgiving weekend for all of that Decembertime prep--you know, the decorating, shopping, wrapping, and list making.  Notice "baking" is not on that list.  I try to hold that off as long as possible because the longer the cookies are around, the longer I have to eat them.  But I am a working mother, and time is of the essence.  The more I can get done Thanksgiving weekend, the smoother the holiday goes for all of us.

The picture movie I put together is of my children decking the halls of the Lamp Post this weekend.  Ellen did the tree, Natalie brought up the boxes from the basement, and Sam---well, he did the nativity set again this year.  It's his favorite job.  Sam is four years old and really into action figures.  This year it is those little wrestling guys called Little Rumblers.  It seems that Herod ain't gettin' through the manger this year.  Jesus is safe again.  Sam's got Triple H and The Undertaker standing guard.  Take a look at the wise men he's stacked on top of one another.  I asked Sam why the one Wise Man was standing on top of the other.  Sam replied, "He couldn't see Jesus, so his friend helped him."  How prophetic, Sam!  Shouldn't we all give a leg up to help our friend see Jesus?

You'll get to see some of my favorite decorations from The Lamp Post.  I don't expect House Beautiful to call me to do a cover shoot because of them, either.  They are all sentimental, and Eloise is a sentimental soul.  You'll find my favorite picture of Ellen at a little over a year old crawling around underneath the Christmas tree.  That is on display every year along with the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, my card with the three angels (guess which one is Sam), and the ceramic tree that belonged to my mother in law.  She's gone now, but plugging in that tree makes it seem like she's still here with us.

My favorite decoration actually made the grab for the cover shot of the movie--it's kind of hard to make out, but it is a chain of paper clips.  I hook one to the tree every year in honor of a student in my very first class.  The boy didn't come from a family who had extra resources--enough to get by, but certainly none extra to buy teachers Christmas gifts.  On the last day before break this boy, whom I still see on occasion and now is in his later 20's, brought me a small box wrapped in aluminum foil, tied with a dirty, frayed shoelace.  When I opened the box, I found a chain of 8 paper clips.  I looked into his excited, skinny face, and the boy said to me, "They are for you!  They're paper clips!  I see that you used them all the time to hook our papers together.  You can hang this on your tree for a decoration, like tinsel, and after Christmas you can use them for our papers."  It takes a lot to make Eloise cry, but this time I couldn't stop the tears.  It was one of the sweetest, most heartfelt gifts I'd ever received.  I hang a chain of paper clips on my tree every year to remind myself that thoughtfulness is what it takes to make a gift priceless.

They say what you write reveals what is underneath.  If that is true Eloise has no secrets because you sure have read enough of my work.  Pay close attention to the letters to Santa my kids wrote this year.  Natalie, my girl of few words, speaks volumes.

Sam's was dictated, but he insisted in writing his name.  You can see he's a lefty because he writes everything backwards.  His requests say it all.

And then there is sweet Ellen's; my child who carries the weight of the world.  As a fifth grader she was not keen on writing a letter this year.  Too bad, I said, It's tradition.  Look closely at what her requests were.  Again--writing really does speak volumes about a person.

Enjoy the movie.  The song is Deck the Halls by Jim Brickman.  It's really pretty---just like my newly decorated house.

Let the holidays begin!
Eloise