I hope that your stockings are filled with joy (those that aren’t already filled with, you know, feet), your table is filled with nothing but the most fabulous food, and you are surrounded only by those you love best.

From our house to yours, Merry Christmas!

You know, I’m not the kind of blogger who likes to air every speck of dirty laundry for all the world to see. I don’t like to read a consistently whiny writer, one who dwells on nonsense (like reality TV and those creepy Kardashians; I still can’t figure out why they’re famous) or one who sugar-coats everything, to have you believe they’re tra-la-la happily tripping through life in some sort of Martha Stewart dream world. I fall into the “realistic” category I think, and share that which I think can safely be shared, without waving my skivvies at you. You don’t need to know every minute detail of my usually boring, normal life.

I guess if you’re still around though, you like at least some of what I have to say, and that I say it how I see it. I do speak the same way as I write, as those of you who know me outside of the blog can attest. This is me.

As I write this, you can probably already sense that I’m melancholy. I’m sad. Feeling a bit lost.

I’m not looking forward to Christmas, either, and traditionally it has always been my favourite time of year. The sounds, the smells, the excitement… Not this year. Why is that? I should be thrilled – my shopping is done, and it was the easiest year for that I’ve ever experienced! I’m done with holiday singing gigs (with my big group) too, so I can relax for the rest of the year, and recuperate! Still… I just don’t feel it.

Oh, things aren’t all bad, don’t get me wrong! My kids and husband are fine, and healthy. Hubby has a good job. We’re in good shape financially, for once. My parents are fine. We have some terrific friends, including some we met only recently. So much to be grateful for!

I do miss my grandmother, who we lost in June, just shy of her 100th birthday. I keep “seeing” her lately, in other elderly ladies, and in sounds and sights that remind me of her. It’s not a crushing sadness, since she hadn’t really been there for a long time… it’s a quiet kind of ache. Feeling the loss.

One big blow that happened this year was the non-reunion of my beloved group; Main Street. I finally have had to come to terms with the fact that the group simply is not going to get back together again, as much as I had hoped that it would happen.

ShaMoo moved on with someone else quite a while back, and we knew that was the end of her involvement. I wish her well, and I really am happy she has found something that fits her so well.

Walt has had so much on his plate with ailing parents and a busy, hectic personal and professional life that we never really expected him to return to us, although I think if the conditions were right, he would have collaborated on a project or two just to be with us again. He felt the “goodness” of the group too, even if he couldn’t commit to it. Still a friend, and still around, so it’s all good.

Most recently though was the real heartbreak; when John (J-B) told me – gently – that he doesn’t see Main Street in his future anymore. It was the final thrust of the knife, and while I knew in my head that it was coming, the crushing heartbreak of it was a real surprise to me. We had lunch a few days ago, and he told me why it has to be so. I can’t discuss his reasons, but I respect them, and can’t fight him on it. He’s right, and there’s no fighting that. He knows that I love him dearly, and all in all, I’m content to continue to have him in my life as a very dear friend. It’s enough to know that he feels the same. If nothing else, Main Street brought me an absolutely wonderful friend, and a heart full of memories that I’ll cherish forever.

For now I have to give myself time to mourn the demise of Main Street. I will put it together again one day – I’m keeping the name, the music, and the domains. I’ll find other voices to give it life once more… even though it won’t be the same. It never could be.

Moving on…

The Teen has had a rough year. She’s been waffling on her direction, and is feeling a lot of pressure to make “THE DECISION” on what path to take. It’s not an easy decision, but as I keep reminding her, she doesn’t need to decide the whole rest of her life just yet. She’s young – just 17 – and all she needs to do is decide on a general direction. A footpath. The thing about directions and decisions? You can change your mind. You can alter course. As long as you keep moving and exploring your options, it’s all good. Just do your best, and that is all anyone can expect of you. Of course, when you’re 17… everything is so much bigger than it really is. I’m confident she’ll find her way when the time is right.

Wee One has had a terrific year, in contrast. We found a fantastic tutor in the spring to help her with basic things that she has fallen behind on due to her anxiety, and through this wonderful woman, she has found herself. How wonderful to see her blossoming! And such a relief, I can’t even begin to tell you. It’s showing in everything that she does as her confidence in herself grows.

Hubby and I had a semi-rough year last year, but I’m happy that we have refocused ourselves, and our marriage has gotten stronger. Every couple goes through ups and downs, and we’re no different. We had our 20th anniversary on June 1st this year, celebrated on the beach in Cuba. It was a wonderful vacation, and we found something again that had been dormant for a while. A spark? Yes, that’s probably the best description. We have made a point of getting away together every so often, even for just a day or two, and in doing so, we’ve found our way again. He’s a good man, and I’m a very lucky lady to have him.

We bought a new house in February, which is not yet built. In fact, we were supposed to move into it 3 days ago, but we’ve been pushed back twice so far, and now we likely won’t be into it until August of 2012! It has not been a good experience, by any stretch. This will probably be the very last “new build” we ever purchase, because I have hated the entire process from the get-go. At this point I don’t even care if we move into it or not – I’d be just as happy to sell the damn thing and move somewhere else. The only saving grace is that it has already made us a considerable amount of money as the prices continue to climb. But still… grrrr.

Yep, even though it’s not yet over, I’m looking forward to getting this year into my rear-view mirror. 2012 is a fresh year, and full of promise!

I came across a great haiku submission for our “Sensational Haiku Wednesday” meme today, and thought I’d put my 2¢ into the mix.

The Teen and I were discussing the “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” politically correct nonsense just yesterday. Depending on where we would go in our shopping travels, we’d hear both, and more often than not, the “Merry Christmas” would sound like a challenge, rather than the heartfelt sentiment it’s meant to be. The Hubby and I spent a few days away in Pennsylvania this week, and heard the same thing there. In one case I was purchasing a gift in a small store, and the owner handed me my change, looked me square in the eye, and ground out “MERRY. CHRISTMAS.” as though she were daring me to make something of it. Frightening.

How far we have fallen that such simple words can bring us to hurl them as epithets.

The Teen and I both have friends who are Muslim or other “non Christian” faiths (or no religious faith at all, like our family). We got to thinking about those friends, and came to the conclusion that not a single one of them would have a problem with someone saying “Merry Christmas” to them. It would not cause them to recoil from the wisher, make them angry, or cause them to feel insulted. In fact, one of the Teen’s friends is a lovely Muslim girl who makes it a point to wish people a Merry Christmas during this time of year, even if she herself doesn’t celebrate it. She gets it, and she’s still a kid. There is hope for us yet.

Who thought this whole “politically correct” change to the holidays up, anyway? No doubt a group of small-minded, narrow-thinking “do-gooders” who couldn’t bear the thought of a single person being insulted for any reason, and figured it needed a rule. No matter that the kind of person who would be insulted by being wished “Merry Christmas” is likely the kind of person who would find fault or imagine ethnic segregation in just about anything anyway. Fortunately, that isn’t the vast majority of people. All people, and that means people of all race, creed, and colour, appreciate kindness and good will. We are not so different that it could possibly be any other way, except in the small, damaged groups of people who take it upon themselves to cause trouble for people who aren’t looking for it.

Past the obvious Christian roots and meaning to the holiday, Christmas can mean many things, and will depend on those who celebrate it. I grew up and continue to this day to believe that Christmas is a time for family. It’s a time for extra love, extra joy, and perhaps also a time to get past the minor things that caused us angst or hurt throughout the year. It’s a time to celebrate being together, eat good food, and sing great songs. (Unfortunately it also means extra bills and calories, but we don’t need to go there just now!)

I have been wished “Happy Hannukah”, “Happy Kwanzaa”, “Happy Diwali” and many other things throughout the year, and take it all with the spirit in which it’s intended; as a wish for my happiness during a special time.

How can anyone have a problem with someone wishing them well? Let’s stop being ridiculous, people.

Merry Christmas, my friends.

Not to worry, I haven’t had any news to that effect! I was just standing in my deep thinking spot (the shower) a little while ago, and started to think about that. The song “Live like you were dying” was playing earlier, and it always makes me think.

Well, as much as I love that song, there is no way in HELL I’d be going sky diving. I’ve already been Rocky Mountain climbing (and also fell down a mountain in the Rockies while skiing many years ago). I have no desire to ride a bull (by any name), for any length of time. The rest? Oh yeah. But I sure don’t need to be dying to do any of that, do I.

The first thing that came to my mind as I pondered the scenario was how much I love my kids. That got me to thinking about all the things I could be doing with them, dying or not. As a self-imposed workaholic, I know full well that I’m wasting precious time with my girls. The Teen is almost grown now, and really, how much time do I have left with her living here at home? She uttered the words “apartment with my friends” the other day, and I could feel the loss as though it were already happening. There is no way to get this time back, so what in the world am I doing, squandering it sitting here when I don’t absolutely have to be??

I mentioned that I was burnt out and highly stressed the other day. Why is that? Do I really need to sit here all day (and often all evening) like I do, and put things off, forget about my schedule and play things by the seat of my pants (which are bigger because of exactly that, thankyouverymuch) every day? Do I really need to create more work for myself by taking on new projects? Do I need to spend as much time on Facebook and Google+ as I do? The answer to all of that is a resounding NO.

So the question I’ve posed to you, and to myself, is “What would you do if you only had a year to live“.

Well, what makes me happy? Nah, “things” don’t really make me happy. Ok, then, WHO makes me happy? Definitely my kids. The Hubby. Boo (cat) and Sadie (dog). My parents. A small handful of friends, who don’t need to be named here; you know who you are. My blog – most of the time. My bloggy friends, especially the ones who stick around even when I’m brain-farting and don’t have much to say.

I’d spend a little time getting my affairs in order. I’d write a lot of letters to the people who hold a special place in my heart, and finish the ones I’ve been writing to my girls since they were born. I’d travel with my kids and hubby, show them the world, and share in their adventures. I’d treat my husband the same way as I do now, because he knows how much I love to be in his arms. I’d play games and read to Wee One a lot more, and hold her tight for as long as she wanted me to, and probably a little bit longer. I’d sit with the Teen on the couch more like she’s always asking me to, and watch movies, and spend more “girl” time with her, one on one.

I’d laugh, a lot, with friends who know me and love me anyway.

I’d write and journal more, and put down all of the wonderful things I’ve seen and done, and my hopes and dreams, and all the wishes I have for my family.

Probably the question I should be asking myself is Why am I not doing all of that already? Or at least as much as I should? Sure, my kids know I love them – I tell them and show them every day of their lives. But I’ve also turned down opportunities to be with them and have fun because I was too busy. What do you suppose they’re going to remember most about me, if that is the sort of thing I keep doing?

I think we should all live like we were dying. Don’t you?

There are so many wonderful ways to commemorate the special times in our lives, but if you’re not in to scrapbooking (I’m not) and don’t have the time to devote to a big artsy project and want something simple but meaningful, this one may be for you.

Consider the important dates in your life, and break it down simply into years. For us, it was 1966, 1967 (the years the Hubby and I were born, respectively), 1991 (the year we got married), 1994 (along came the Teen), and… 2004 (I’m WHAT?!! …enter Wee One.)

Then you want to go through your jar of pennies. Of course you have one; everyone has one.

Find the years – now, unless you’re on the high side of 50, that shouldn’t be a problem. I looked for one for 1951 for J-B though, and there was nary a one in my huge pile! Bummer. I did find one from 1941, but had no immediate use for it. Finding a 1967 penny proved to be problematic though – it was a centennial year and they issued a special one that year. I went through literally thousands before I finally found one, but find one I did! Woot!

Now, not all pennies are made alike I’ve come to find. It’s far harder to find a “good” American penny that has withstood the ravages of time and peoples’ pockets than it is to find a good Canadian coin, and I’m certain it’s the copper/zinc ratio used in their composition. The US penny has traditionally been comprised of 95% copper and 5% zinc.

Canadian pennies, on the other hand, are convoluted… but weather better! Their content varies by the year they were minted. In 1942 the Canadian 1 cent coin’s metal composition was altered from 95.5 percent copper, 3 percent tin and 1.5 percent zinc, to consist of 98 percent copper, 1.75 percent zinc and .5 percent tin. Because the cost of precious metals was increasing exponentially at the time, it began to cost more than the value of a penny to mint one, and in 1997 our penny was redesigned to no longer consist mainly of copper. In 2000 Canadian pennies were again changed to 94 percent steel, 4.5 percent copper plate, and 1.5 percent nickel. So all of our family pennies have the same content except for the surprise Wee One’s, as she was born in 2004.

Now you know. But I digress.

Got ‘em? Groovy! Now that you’ve pawed your way through your plethora of pennies though, how are you feeling? Pretty grubby I’d imagine. Money is nothing if it’s not FILTHY. DO NOT touch your face, or your kids or, well, anything, until you wash your hands with hot soapy water. You’re also going to want to clean your pennies before we go any further.

Cleaning copper is super easy, and it doesn’t take any soap or chemical cleaners at all. In fact, I’ll bet you’ve got the ingredients in your kitchen already. All you need is regular table salt, and a lemon or lime. As I had just made guacamole, I had a lime on hand! You don’t need a whole fruit for this, either. As long as there is some juice left in the pulp, you can use one you’ve already used in a recipe! Like so:

Pour some salt into the lime (or lemon), throw a penny in, and rub it around in the salt and juice. It will come amazingly clean! Continue until you’re satisfied with how it looks. I think they have a little more character if you don’t rub them so clean they’re blinding, but it’s up to you. Rinse them clean in regular water, and dry them off. I don’t need to explain that one to you!

Now inspect your pennies, and decide where you want to drill the hole. Up to you. Oh by the way, it’s illegal to deface or mutilate legal tender. Just sayin’.

I dotted mine with a Sharpie. I love Sharpies.

Then I handed them to the Hubby with a key ring. Magically, they reappeared after a little while in this form:

Cute, and simple, yes? You could certainly dress your pennies up with jewelry findings and make them more dangly, but in my mind that’s just asking for them to be pulled off and lost, so I opted for simple.