Pipe Dreams and My Father

Dear Pop,

You would have been 110 years old today.

I fully expected you to reach the century mark,

so, when your heart failed at 76, I was flattened.

I was too young to lose a parent and yet, it

happened and I had to deal with it the best

I could.

That same year, I filed for divorce and walked

away from my teaching career-three major

hits to my psyche and yet, I am still here!

A large part of why I am still standing and joyful

comes from lessons you taught me as a child:

From singing “Oh What a Beautiful Morning”

as you rose at 4:15 a.m. to telling me

“Time, daughter, time takes care of everything”

to “Moderation in all things will protect you”

and “Always be humble, you are no

different than other human beings."

Lessons I carried with me as I weathered the storms

of my life. Advice I shared with others when

they were open to it. Wisdom that warmed my heart

when the cold world pressed at my door.

I miss you, Pop. I miss you sitting at the ranch

house table, a mug of creamy coffee in front of you,

sucking on your pipe and blowing a smoke cloud

in the air, your bright blue eyes softened, looking

off into infinity…

You made it okay for me to be a DREAMER and

for that, I thank you.

You left so suddenly, I did not get a chance to

say good-bye (Good-bye Ma, good-bye Pa, good-

bye, mule with the old hee haw-you used to sing)

I feel your presence every time I crave black licorice

or cold cider on a hot day

Eating ice cream evokes your smiling face

I don’t know where Heaven is, geographically,

but I know it wasn’t a long trip for you because

while you were here you walked your talk and

everybody who met you loved you.

Happy Birthday, Pop!

Until we meet again,

Your sweet Tapootie :-)

Okay, Oliver-I Surrender!

I have enjoyed my little Christmas tree (15 inches tall)

for several seasons.  I found little mirror balls (3/4 inch)

and a small star (1 ½ inches) tree topper and tiny

golden garlands to match.  I completed the ensemble

with a string of 50 multi-colored mini lights.

My little Christmas tree fit easily on a 3 ½ foot tall

bookcase. It captures the spirit of Christmas without

being too obtrusive.

Thanks to Oliver, the Terrible, aka Oliver Twist, my

Tortoise shell young cat, this is the little Christmas

Tree’s last year and unexpectedly, it’s last day on Earth

I cannot fight Oliver, the Terrible, any more. I’ve had

to right the tree every morning and throw away chewed

mirror balls, since I put it up in early December. For awhile

I transported it to the closet before I went to bed, but

I tired of that chore.

This morning when I came down, the tree was stripped of

its remaining balls, lying woefully on the floor. I found

a lonely little ball, half-chewed in the middle of my living

room, Oliver’s final statement on his disregard for the Little

Christmas Tree’s good cheer!

For next year, I plan a new Christmas tradition: I am thinking,

perhaps, I’ll design a 3 foot tall wrought iron tree and commission

a blacksmith to build it. Then, I’ll bolt it to the bookshelf!

Not going to tolerate Oliver, the Terrible, violating my holiday

experience again. Yeah, that’ll fix his furry ass…

I do have two cats. Winston, the grey gentleman, does not

seem interested in making a ruckus about the Little Christmas

Tree. He seems oblivious to Oliver’s treachery. For all I know

Winston is the mastermind and Oliver is the hit man.

I used to leave my Christmas decorations up until the end of

January; cheery lights to pick me up during the drabbest month

of the year.

Sometimes when you share space with other souls, it is wise

to compromise. Have a lovely New Year’s celebration. I know

I will, despite my delinquent cat!

Raintreepoet, reporting. 

Holiday Hunger

Merry Belated Christmas!

Apparently today was the most materialistic consumer driven

day of the year. The merchants are elated! Shopping madness

abounds. Returns are their way of getting consumers back in

the stores, so they can have another go at them.

Now don’t get me wrong, I buy too. Not a lot, but more

thoughty, researched gifts. That’s a bald-faced lie…What I do

is shop year ‘round and stockpile, so that by December I can

breathe easy and think about food…Christmas dinner Yum!

(I’ll be back to that before essays end. Um hum!)

You see, I am not a shopper, per se. I am a buyer. If I see

something in July that I know would give a friend or relative

great pleasure, I pull out the plastic and buy it on the spot; that

way, it’s paid off by Christmas. Don’t get me started on how

much the credit card companies love this time of year-Xmas

I mean…Aren't they hungry to profit on all that interest?

I will say that I am not immune to browsing at the last minute

and making emotional purchases… (Like the Wubble I got for my

grandson, while purchasing Christmas lights…or the Kinetic sand.)

Mostly, however, I’ll remember a conversation I had with

somebody and suddenly, in August, I’ll see exactly the item

he praised, in a shop window in Hood River (Buddha statue) or

a similar cobalt blue sweater, she gushed over, in a magazine…or

an ad comes on the television for uber car mats and bam! I am

on Amazon checking them out. What I avoid like the plague is

big box stores and shopping malls during this season, where

sales cause humans to turn into sharks and a feeding frenzy.

Major turn off for me… I encourage you to support our

consumer driven economy all twelve months. Healthier economy.

Witnessing those who have less bothers me this time of year.

Reminders are everywhere! How about you?

Hunger and healthy brings me to another kind of basic, physical sort; what

If we only ate one big meal per year? Would that nourish us

for the whole year? Not really, so, let’s talk about the hungry

and homeless; could we do more for them all twelve months

of the year, too? Just saying…Spread the blessings. Have

a Happy, prosperous 2015!

Raintreepoet :-)

 

Golden Memory Christmases

I’ve been on my own for many years and I have never

had a lonely Christmas. I don’t know yet where I’ll be

this year, but at the last minute somebody usually invites

me to join them and it’s all good. The reason I am okay

is I had some extraordinary Christmases growing up and

I draw on them for my Christmas cheer. A person only

needs one and if I hadn’t had my history, I would have

created it. When I was married, I used to adopt gypsies at

 Christmas time…whoever needed a place to be. I love to cook,

 so it was no big deal. These last few years, I’ve been the gypsy

and I am grateful to whoever hosts me.

The ambiance of my childhood Christmases lingers in my

Dreamscape becoming especially vivid every Christmas

since.

I grew up on Meyer’s Guernsey Dairy, Delphi, Washington.

Rise and shine time was 3:30 a.m. on Christmas morning.

Both grey DiVco milk trucks were loaded quickly and the

mission was to deliver fresh milk and cream to all the

customers on Christmas day.

Pop and Uncle Sam drove the trucks and the rest of

us were left back at the farm to do our chores.

Before we went to the ranch house, Mom allowed us kids

to open one present and our stockings. Then we loaded

up the car with all the Christmas dinner fixings that we

were taking to the ranch house.

Aunt Erma (Sam’s wife) came from her house on Black Lake

She would open tin after tin of the best handmade candies

I’ve ever had. Delicacies she set up on a 3 ft. square side

table in the living room. This one day of the year, we were

allowed to eat our fill. O the Joy! (My mom was a nurse and

strict about our nutrition the other 364.)

Uncle Frank, a bachelor, who lived in the ranch house and

was an antique dealer (with a museum right on the farm)

 decorated a tree with ornaments from Europe, mostly

German Swiss. He put the tree on a turning pedestal that

played Christmas music. Polly, the ranch house parrot sang

 along with the music and teased whoever came in

with: Shut the door! Were you born in a barn? Then he’d

laugh his crazy maniacal parrot laugh, which would make

everybody in earshot laugh, too. Uncle Frank was just a big

kid himself and enjoyed making it magical for everyone.

Aunt Louise and Uncle Ed would arrive from South Bay

 with a carload of packages and containers of good German food.

 Aunt Louise’s Christmas Specialty was steamed carrot pudding

with hard sauce, an Old Country treat her brothers had a fondness for.

There was so much to do before Christmas dinner, which was about

4 pm after the milk trucks arrived back home.

My mother and my aunts worked well together in the kitchen and I

loved doing whatever I was assigned to do, whether it was peeling

potatoes or dishing up the olives and condiments. My sister, Victoria

and my brothers, Burt and Doug were usually out doing farm chores.

I guess I was spared because I was the youngest!

Christmas dinner was the main event and we ate until we were helpless.

The hired hands did the evening milking on Christmas and Uncle Frank

rewarded them with generous gift baskets and gratitude. He had great

people skills.

Later in the evening, Uncle Ed and Aunt Louise would head home and

prepare for our family to come and see their tree. They had spent until

Midnight Christmas Eve frosting Christmas cookies and hanging them

by ribbons on their tree. Each was a little work of art. Our tradition was

 that each of us got to choose two and cut them to eat or take home.

Because the four of us were the only children in my father’s extended

family, we were fortunate to have so much love and gifts and attention.

I so appreciated it then and I am so grateful that I can feel the spirit and

love of those times with my family to this day. Golden memories

take me back home. Decide to have a Merry Christmas and you will!

Happy Holidays!

Raintreepoet :-)