THE DAY AFTER

What a beautiful white Christmas we had! Just a dusting of snow refreshed our snow that had been here for a couple of weeks already. We missed the snowstorm that had been predicted. Unfortunately for some Southerners, they also had a white Christmas.

Today is the day after the big day. Years ago, really not that many years ago, today would have been a huge shopping day--especially for my mom. We'd rush out early to get all the 50% off Christmas wrap and cards. Nowadays all of that seems to be on sale from Thanksgiving on. All of the clothes and most other merchandise have been on a 40% to any other higher amount percent off since it arrived in the store. Truthfully, the constant sales take the fun out of shopping. No longer can we say, "Look what bargain I found!" Macy's has had so many largest sales event days that I can't count them. Shouldn't we as consumers begin to become highly skeptical of the merchanisers' pricing? Shouldn't someone begin a Tea Party among shoppers? I wonder where the Merchandise Tea Party might have their Christmas party? (Before I continue, this part is a jab at being humorous at the expense of someone I love dearly.) Maybe they could party up the a** of a reindeer.

Oh, well, I digress. Actually, I did go shopping today. I went to a local discount store. I think there were two other cars in the parking lot. My lions got their new neck wear. Of course, some would say that I decorated late for Christmas, but I call it their Mardi Gras decorations. I've been in New Orleans after Christmas--and even at Mardi Gras time. The homes are decked out in beautiful decorations. They really know how to make the neighborhoods festive. The Mardi Gras colors aren't far from Christmas colors; therefore, I think I can get away with what I've used. Of course, my neighbors thought I was crazy today while I stood in hip deep piled snow to secure the wreaths. I think I picked the windiest and coldest time of the day to do the outside work. I think I was seconds away from frostbite. New Orleans doesn't experience that while decorating their mansions.

I might mention now that I know I don't have a mansion like the South, but my home does have a name, Dande Lion Manor. Everyone is greeted by my two lions at the end of the driveway. (I'm also known as the Concrete Queen of my little berg because I have had a huge concrete drive put in--just short of a landing strip.) But the house did not get its name from my lions, they were an added feature. You've guessed it! Those pesky little yellow weeds have thrived because of my thumb--obviously not green, just lazy.

I hope those of you who went out to find bargains today did just that. I, on the other hand, am still bone cold from my purchases today. Like I hinted, no bargains really existed for me today. Brrrr!!!!!

CHRISTMASES OF YESTERYEAR

This is a Christmas tree at my Grandma J's home. In the eyes of a child, this was the most beautiful addition to a living room that I could have imagined. Through the eyes of an adult, I can see where many would consider this a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. That is what photographs will do. It brings tears to my eyes to see how calloused my opinion about the beauty of Christmas is and should be. I don't know when it happened. However, now I'm starting to revert. I wish that children now could be more appreciative of less. Less is more, right?

The tree was not up for long. I wouldn't be surprised if there is no water at the bottom. Trees weren't up long. Not many bulbs. This tree didn't have any children-made ornaments like most of our trees. The strands of tinsel didn't even make it around the tree--but ours at home were made of popcorn and cranberries. Grandma's strands were special.

I can tell which presents were from my Aunt Sis, grandma's sister. She made the most beautiful packages. Whenever I'd sneak a peek at the tree after Aunt Sis arrived, I'd be super thrilled. I had the most beautiful packages. However, I'd be disappointed. I don't know how long it took me to realize that my name and my grandma's name were the same. Aunt Sis gave Grandma those beautiful packages. Oh, she made all of ours special too, but not like Grandma's.

I can tell the following picture is at Christmas time. My mother would take pine boughs and decorate the dining room window sill. Also, our uncle from California always sent fruit. We didn't seem to have oranges at any other time. Those oranges were huge--and sweet!

This picture was taken when I was eight years old. It was our year to have Christmas. One year we'd go to Grandma F's, the next to Grandma J's and the next we'd stay home and WAIT for everyone to arrive. I can't begin to tell you how full of anticipation I was. We children had already been allowed to open our stockings. Mom would hope that would tide us over a bit. I hated having to wait. Everyone would arrive at different times, and the minutes seemed like hours.

I'm sure I was up to something. My sister was peeking around the corner, probably hoping I would get into trouble. Moms are more understanding at Christmas time. I, unfortunately, missed out on that part of life. Maybe that is why I have commercial Christmas feelings and yearn for the emotional feelings.

It is Christmas Eve. I am going to a friend's house that will be alive with little children's laughter. I will not see my childhood tree. In its place I will see a perfectly shaped Douglas fir with decorations that are perfectly placed and perfectly color coordinated. I hope I have a good time. I will pity the kids--not outloud, because I know they will never have the special memories I had. And they were very special and no photograph can take those memories away.

Once again, and I'm happy to say it--

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!!!

ONLY CHRISTMAS HAPPINESS

Commercial Christmas is meant to be happy. Even the birth of Christ is a happy moment. Therefore, no sad, sentimental stories should be told at Christmas time. I will say many charities thrive on sad stories to generate donations. OK, do those stories on Black Friday. After that, only happy stories, movies, songs, and any other form of media. Too many people are suffering at Christmas because of some personal reason: death, divorce, illness...too many to list. Suicide is high at Christmas time. No need for sad stories exists!!!

One time I was driving to my parents' home for my Christmas vacation. It might be hard to believe, but I rarely used the radio even though the drive was nearly two hours and a half. However, I turned the radio on that evening's trip. The radio station I turned to was showcasing the top twenty-five (I really can't remember the number, but they lasted the entire trip) saddest Christmas songs. I cried all the way. What possessed me to remain on that station can not be determined. I think I was totally surprised about the multitude of sad songs. What possesses song writers to write tearjerkers--for Christmas no less!!

I watched a story on NBC this morning. I knew I should have turned the station. It was about a little girl who had died of brain cancer. All day long that sadness has stayed in my mind. I had a teacher friend one time who really liked sad stories because they made him realize how well off he was. Sad stories do not have that effect on me.

I plead--Media outlets, please put a moratorium on sadness during the month of December. Maybe keep sadness out until April when the sun starts shining again. It's OK to make people laugh. It's good to make people laugh and/or smile.

Merry Christmas!! (How can anyone say that after being depressed by a sentimental story?) While I'm at it--Have a Happy 2011!!!

Scolded

Did someone ever say something that in around about way sounded like it was meant for you? I have a niece who is a "prolific" blogger. I put the word prolific in italics because that is the word she used. She was talking about her blog and how she didn't get her first two choices for her blog title. Actually, I like her title. I thought she had shown much creativity with her title. She was...shall I say whining about how blogs should be dropped if the blogger hadn't used the site for a period of time. That way others can use the blog title if they would use it frequently because they are prolific bloggers. She was nice enough to say that if a blog had been opened in 2001 and not used since, it should be dropped. I opened a blog earlier in the year, but I have not used it much. There are reasons:

1. I have a relatively boring life.
2. I seem to be busy grading papers--I happen to be an English teacher. (I have decided that in my next life I will not be an English teacher. I have begun a mind set--hoping that it will follow me into my next life--to be a wife of a wealthy, all around good guy, who doesn't want his wife to work. To compensate not working, I will be absorbed in charity work. I think I want to relive 1930's movies.)
3. Since I am an English teacher, I'm afraid readers will criticize my elementary style writing. My vocabulary has never progressed much past the 7th grade level.
4. I'm embarrassed that I don't have cute pictures to put on the blog.
5. My writing would even bore me that I'd fall asleep before finishing.

Maybe I'll write again tomorrow. I'm on Christmas vacation. That's right--not on a holiday vacation or winter break. I like to call my time off Christmas vacation. I should be grading my semester finals, or I should be doing some organization work...but I somewhat want to try becoming a prolific writer. I don't want to cheat anyone out of the blogspot Cacophony.

(Just to play it safe in case I don't get back very soon--Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!)

Why Can't English Teachers Write

Only a few people know that I have a blog. They don't check it very often because I don't write much. For some reason I looked at my own entry from earlier this week. Wow! What a grammatical error staring right at me. After commenting about an error to a fellow blogger, I am surprised she didn't slam me a good one. Karma can be a b*tch!!

Today I told a fellow worker how awful his sister-in-law looked. I did start off by saying I had no reason to talk, but I don't ever seem to know when to stop. I even commented on his nephews. Thankfully, this particular worker is a friend, or least he used to be, and on top of that, he calls his brother estranged. I guess I let loose because years ago that sister-in-law was sort of nasty to me. I wonder what Karma will have in store for me now.

Are All Men's Idol Bob the Builder?

The school where I punch the time clock everyday has started some renovation work. This is not the first overhaul since it opened in 1961, but for some reason, a big deal is being made. I think it is so the guys can wear hard hats and drool at the large equipment.

Since I sponsor the yearbook, I have easy access to a camera. Frequently I go outside to take pictures of the progress. It is amazing how fast progress is being made. When the ground shakers were working, they would go right up to the windows, and the kids would move because they thought the machines were going to go through the wall. Little did the kids know that the teachers paid extra for that feature. Just kidding. It was amazing to see that kids could move fast. The only other time they move like they have some place to go is when the lunch bell rings.

My principal and the assistant have their very own hard hats now--and forever!! What is it about the hat? They have hard heads already. Just kidding, again. Me?? I couldn't care less about jumping on the big bulldozer, driving the dump truck, and (especially) wearing that stupid hat. Sorry guys. That fantasy is all yours.

No Green Thumb on This Hand!!

It may not appear that I like flowers, but I do. The only problem is that I am not a good gardener. As a matter of fact, silk flowers have a problem maintaining their appearance in my home. Since I've gone through the stage of planting bulbs and digging them up in the fall, I don't attempt that type of flower. As a matter of fact, I found out that if there is any type of frost, bulbs are goners. They have no forgiveness for the gardener.

I have tried the hanging baskets, but I found out that they need watered too much. I think that my formative years were spent hearing, "Turn off that water," or "You don't need to have that water on." I figured Mother Nature should assist outdoor plants. My hanging baskets didn't give any forgiveness to this gardener; therefore, I don't invest in hanging baskets anymore. Every once in a while, I may get a hanging basket in the spring from someone who doesn't know my brown thumb syndrome.

I have even attempted throwing some seeds into the ground, hoping for the best. I do like to have cut flowers in the house and on my desk at school. This year near the end of May I purchased some seeds for flowers marked as flowers for a butterfly garden. I put the seeds in three different areas--all with different results.

I am having difficulty placing these pictures!! Anyway, the picture directly above this was taken in my front yard. I trimmed some of the tree limbs yesterday so that the flowers could have more sun. As I was doing that, a mourning dove flew out of the top where she has a nest. I hate those birds!! The picture at the top is a close up. If you look closely, you will see a white butterfly on the flower by the trunk. In the back, there is a yellow butterfly.

I had other pictures of the other flower beds, but maybe I'll attempt those another day. I not only don't have a green thumb, but I also don't have a camera finger.

Being with Your Own Kind

Everyone feels comfortable around his or her kind--whether it would be family, workers, or any group with the same interests. As an educator, I am frequently hounded with questions about teaching from people who have no idea what educators do. I occasionally feel as if I have to defend myself and my profession. Sometimes when people ask me what I do, I just respond that I work at a school. They take an extra look at me and probably think I work in the kitchen. I say, "Let them!" It isn't that I'm not proud of my profession because I'm very proud and passionate about my job.

[A picture of downtown Spokane]

Last week I was with my own. DKG--an honorary society for key women teachers. It was great! We all had the same interests and feelings about education. We didn't have to defend our salaries--one of my pet peeves. We have our students as our top priority at school. For some teachers, school work takes time from their own families. I have often told younger teachers to restrict the amount of their extracurriculars so that they still have plenty of time with their young children. However, younger teachers are the ones who need more money and in turn that means more sponsorships or coaching.

[Picture from an HBO show about hipsters]

We had great speakers. Amanda Gore, an Australian, was one of the best. She introduced me to a new term for a group of people in our country now: hipsters. I hadn't heard about them before, but when I got back to Indiana, I saw a book about them in Barnes and Nobles. Hipsters are a group of young adults who live on trust funds. They remind me of a cross between hippies and the homeless. Even though they have plenty of money, they play the system and get food stamps and other aid because on paper they don't work. I don't mean to blow their cover, but shouldn't something like this be looked into?

Anyway, it was great being with my own kind for a few days. I am glad to be a teacher. It is a great profession. When students come back years after I have had them in class and ask me, "Remember when....?" Many times I don't, but at least I know that I did make an impression on them. And many have made impressions on me!!

School is just around the corner. I get as excited as a first grader going to school. I have trouble sleeping the night before the first day. When I don't have that feeling, I know that it will be time to hang up my chalk. Fortunately, I am still excited. It helped being around all those other lady teachers. They are still excited also.

My Family Vacation

[Elway on the deck overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.]

I wrote this once, but it didn't work. I will now try again.

Family vacations are just another Christmas. The anticipation is almost unbearable. Wondering what will happen...wondering if someone will be disappointed...wondering if we have everything...wondering when the first trauma will happen.

Please note that the word "wondering" is used and not "worrying."

As the day approaches, sleep is at an all time low. Thoughts are filled with dreams and hopes that this time will be the best time ever. Phone calls are made. Little surprises are planned.

Then it is time for the present to be opened. The squeals of laughter fill the air. Smiles are all around. No one can see it all because too much is happening. But the present lasts longer than the ones opened in December. Yes, some disappointment but not much because something comes along to wipe that feeling out. And smiles abound again.

Then it is time to close the present. Sadness sets in. You know what? That sadness doesn't last for long because now the memories begin. Most of the memories are good and bring a giggle or at least a smile.

Can the first family vacation be repeated? No. But no Christmas can be repeated. But we can still enjoy other vacations--we enjoy other Christmases, don't we? New experiences are what we all need. Enjoy all of those presents!!