We had rain today, and wind. Gusts of wind toppled trees and shut down power in many places all over central Alabama. After the rain, the weather made the setting sun look like it was burning down the woods behind my house.

Get to Know Your Friends at Christmas

Turtlerock has tagged me, and I'm tagging Athanasia and Mimi; so here goes my second blog post of this day!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?

Giftbags, or delivered to their homes by the online retailer.

2. Real tree or artificial?

Potted rosemary pruned into a cone shape. I put little red, velvet bows on it, or tiny brass bells. This year, though, there are no rosemary plants to be found, so we'll make do with a beautiful poinsetta and some artificial decorations from the Dollar Store.

3. When do you put up the tree?

Whenever we can find the potted rosemary in the store.

4. When do you take the tree down?

Around Theophany (Jan 5 / 18), or when it shows signs of serious dehydration from the dry, indoor air. Then we plant it outside.

5. Do you like egg nog?

Yes, but I've never made it. It's been decades since I've had it.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

A baby doll and two, beautifully illustrated story books.

7. Do you have a nativity scene?

No. I could never get "into" the schmaltz of the "holy family" and the "baby Jesus."

8. Hardest person to buy for?

My husband. He is impossible to please. He even admits it.

9. Easiest person to buy for?

Grandkids! I have to seriously rein myself in from buying every toy I see.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?

Both. I email to friends whose snail mail addresses I do not have, and mail to those I do have. (I'm supposed to be getting those out this morning instead of doing this, so I hope they actually get sent out!)

11.Worst Christmas gift you ever received.

I really can't remember a "worst" Christmas gift.

12. Favorite Christmas movie?

Oh, there are so many! Most anything with Bing Crosby or Jimmy Stewart.

13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?

I don't think so. Been tempted to, though, if I could be sure of who gave it to me in the first place! It just wouldn't "do" to accidentally give it back to the giver!

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Do I have to chose just one?

15. Clear lights or colored on the tree?

Colored, if I have lights at all, but nothing blinking, PLEASE!

16. Favorite Christmas songs?

Today the Virgin, White Christmas, O Holy Night, O, Come Little Children.

17. Travel at Christmas or stay home?

Go to Church, break the long, weary fast, refresh and recoup for the rest of the winter.

18. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeers?

Can't everybody?

19. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?

Whenever it's convenient. Some presents are exchanged at Church, family presents whenever I see them, whether before or after Christmas.

20. Most annoying thing about this time of year?

Too many unrealistic expectations. (I do put them on myself most of the time, though.)

21. Favorite ornament theme or color?

Red, green, and gold.

22. Favorite for Christmas dinner?

Hmmmm. Whatever we're in the mood for. I usually long for scrambled eggs, melted cheese, sausages, toast with real butter, and coffee with real cream.

23. What do you want for Christmas this year?

What I always want--peace and quiet and a happy family.

24. Who is most likely to respond to this?

I haven't the foggiest notion.

25. Who is least likely to respond to this?

Ditto.

Ok - TAG! Athanasia and Mimi! You are IT!

Winter is finally here in Alabama

Winter has finally come to north central Alabama. This week has been cold and frosty. I awake to temperatures of 20F and a hard frost on the ground. The world is icy and even the clouds show blue with cold and red with their chapped cheeks. Everything seems to have stopped. The world hides from the anger of the lost light and warmth. Even when the sun breaks over the horizon and turns the blue and red morning into bright silver and ice, the world is encased in cold. Gone are the yellow and orange hues of Summer. Here for a time are the blue and silver-white hues of ice and cold. There is no pre-dawn songbird cantata. The birds twitter nervously and search anxiously for any water that is not frozen. They explore deliberately and thoroughly for any seeds and berries left on bushes or trees. There is no background music of crickets, frogs, and cicadas that accompany the life-throb of Spring and Summer. The world is silent; it hides and waits. It goes in to itself to search the darkness down deep to recover the buried life that has been exhausted by the exertions of the Summer.

Scrooge

Just for fun, I thought I'd embed this 1935 film of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." This one has a different ending from the more familiar version, but I think you will like it.

"Seymour Hicks plays the title role in the first sound version of the Dickens classic about the miser who's visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve. This British import is notable for being the only adaptation of this story with an invisible Marley's Ghost and its Expressionistic cinematography. This is the uncut 78 minute version."

I got this film from Internet Archive Feature Films.

This morning my mind is full of thoughts that stumble all over themselves for attention and instead just make a jumbled mess in my mind. It's one of those "Gracie Allen" days for me. I'd like to get at least some of these thought straightened out enough to at least resemble something coherent, but it may take a day or two for my "Gracie Allen" moment to pass. In the meantime, I'll post this schmaltzy story that I received in the email this morning. It's really cheesy, and probably totally just made up, and it's been going around the internet for years, but I love it every time I read it. It reminds me to be kind, even when I'm feeling frustrated. It also reminds me of that quote attibuted to St. Philo of Alexandra, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." So, at this time of the year when everyone is rushing to buy stuff and so prove that they are good, loving, better, or whatever; when tempers flare in the rush to prove themselves to be "loving and caring," I thought this story just might cause one or two people to pause and think about their priorities. It certainly causes me to pause.

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m ., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, and then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now"

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, ~ BUT~THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL