12 trips to the attic -- with apologies

 

           On the first trip to the attic, I turned the light switch on, and came back to Christmas downstairs.

On the second trip to the attic, I searched and searched and found two green wreaths, and the light switch to guide me back down.

On the third trip to the attic, to find our mother’s box: three pillows, stuffed; two green wreaths, and the light to guide me back down.

On the fourth trip to the attic, to see what else was there:four strings of lights, three pillows-stuffed—two green wreaths,and the light that guided me down.

On the fifth trip to the attic, my legs were getting tired. Five…. Yuletide rugs…, four strings of lights, three pillows (stuffed),two green wreaths, and the light that guided me down.

On the sixth trip to the attic, I spied a Walmart bag: six new ornaments, five Yuletide rugs, four strings of lights, three pillows[stuffed], two green wreaths, and the light that guided me down.

On the seventh trip to the attic, I had to stop and sit. Seven breaths while resting, six new ornaments, five…Yuletide rugs…., four strings of lights,three pillows {stuffed}, two green wreaths, and the light that enlightened the stairs.

On the eighth trip to the attic, I found another sack: eight strands of tinsel, seven breaths while resting, six new ornaments, five… Yuletide rugs…. four strings of lights, three pillows –stuffed—two green wreaths, and the light that ‘lumined my way.

On the ninth trip to the attic, I moved some things around: nine music boxes, eight strands of tinsel, seven breaths while resting, six new ornaments, five…..Yuletide rugs…… four strings of lights, three pillows [full], two green wreaths, and the blessed light that kept me on track.

On the tenth trip to the attic, I looked around the room: ten-year-old tree, nine music boxes, eight strands  of tinsel, seven breaths while resting, six new ornaments, five….. Yuletide rugs…….. four strings of lights, three pillows, stuffed; two green wreaths, and the light that made the trips work.

On the 11^th trip to the attic, my legs were crying out. 11 steps a-waiting, 10-year-old tree, nine music boxes, eight strands of tinsel, seven breaths while resting, six new ornaments, five…. Yuletide rugs……. four strings of lights, three pillows {stuffed}, two green wreaths, and the light shining down from above.

[Huff, puff, huff, puff, take a drink of water, start again.]

On the 12^th trip to the attic, THIS WAS THE FINAL ONE! 12 Christmas tapes [“[Hall-e-lu-jah!”], 11 steps a-waiting [huff, puff], 10-year-old tree [where’s the Goodwill bag?] 9 music boxes [play them all at once!], 8 strands of tinsel, 7 deep breaths, 6 new ornaments, 5…. Yuletide rugs……. 4 strings of lights, 3 down-filled squares, 2 green wreaths……….AND THE LIGHT JESUS GIVES TO US ALL.

May your Christmas day be full of blessings.

Two church programs to ring-and-sing and a Christmas brunch

Imagine these singers with handbells

I’ve had no “company” since the floors were all re-done, so I invited the eight bell ringers to a brunch. Why not? Our Christmas music presentation was December 14 and we wouldn’t be rehearsing until next year?

          You’ve heard that when one part of your house gets a new face (or floor, in this case), it calls for upgrades in other departments? Those’ll have to wait until next year. I’ve tried to repair the ceiling in the living room by hook and by crook, and up until I painted my handiwork, I was satisfied. Not now. All I could do was to hide it under a similar-colored, sheer cloth with push pins and spray glue. Time, time, time! Like reading the newspaper, it took ‘way too much time. I could almost write a BuzzFeed article, “Ten Ways to Waste Your Time Trying to Do It Yourself.” And I may—next year.

         To warm up the kitchen one recent morning, I decided to bake, using the peanut-butter cookie packet, the cornbread muffin box and one of the clipped recipes for pumpkin cake/pumpkin pie cake. I’d freeze the cookies and the pie-cake for the brunch and our family Christmas.

          The kitchen warmed before I started on the third item. And, because there were so many other things to do—do I have a short attention span?—I turned off the oven, loaded and started the dishwasher.

            As in 2013, this year, I toted the top tier of a 3-part, 6-foot, pre-lighted tree from the attic, set it in a fishbowl of marbles. Voila! Centered on a long, narrow table covered to the floor in maroon cloths and placed in front of the east window, it glows with symmetry--and pears.

           The dining table was re-dressed and readied for food. As BFF Dot knows, it’s hard to keep a dining table clear just for dining. It’s happened many times before: papers, notes, calendars, to-do lists got pushed off into a box and shunted under or behind or inside something. Hopefully, in all that clutter, no unpaid bills get lost. It’s possible the box will be forgotten until a deep-cleaning spell next spring—if then.

         In the meantime, two musical “programs” were planned—on the same day: early church at Bryant; late church at Salem. Sis Carolyn and I rang bells in both—she led the latter group, so we rushed out of the first service after we finished our part, then raced to the second venue to reset the chancel from THEIR early service to the traditional Lessons and Carols.

           With 3 bell tables, additional chairs for 3 brass players, the choir director was squeezed behind a bell player and the sopranos. I’m lobbying for a roll-out extension of the chancel for special programs—in both churches.

            But we survived, and after a long, Sunday-afternoon nap, and continued preparations for the bell brunch--which was a barrel of fun--well… here’s my post for this week.

           May we all slow down, breathe deeply and still enjoy the onrush to Christmas.

This 'n That: Random Thoughts in December

 

 

Fun stuff from the newspaper: Heloise answered a reader’s question about “cute postmarks for our Christmas cards.” And she answered:

                “Here’s a short list to pick from: Evergreen, LA 71333; Garland, NC 28441; Hope, MI 48628; Noel, MO 64854; North Pole, NY 12997; Rudolph, OH 43462; and Star, TX 76880.”

“After my long-in-progress novel manuscript is at the publisher, I’ll deal with the ceiling”.—from a Standard column in December of 2009.

Though A Journey of Choice went live in September of 2010, I immediately began—at the complimentary behest of quite a few readers––a sequel.

Here it is, four years and three months later, and that novel is finished. While it is being re-revised by one group, I have extra time to do something to the living room ceiling. As I mentioned in last week’s column, I’m “workin’ on it.”

The Hot Springs Novel Writers weekly critique sessions have been such fun. Bill White is writing a novel based on a true story. We have just finished re-revising Bud Kenney’s travelogue about walking from Arkansas to New England. HSNW is all business, except for anecdotes here and there about family “doings.”

On the other hand, The Central AR Writers (CAW), a group of three (ahem) mature women and one young sprout (she has two young-adult kiddos), meet monthly, each driving an hour to our complimentary meeting room at the Faulkner County Library. Complimentary, because none of us live in that county. The youngest one always showers us with gifts, so the rest of us have begun bringing little fun things—individual packages of crackers, nuts or candy, maybe a knick-knack. Of course, this month, as it’s December, the gift bags will likely be larger and more full. Goodies aren’t the reason we meet, of course. We continue meeting to critique each other’s current submission. All of us are working on another novel. Though my sequel is finished, this group—meeting monthly—hasn’t yet gotten to the end of it like the Hot Springs group has.

The sequel, Her Face in the Glass, will be edited and published by Alderson Press on a CreateSpace platform. It will not be available in hardback, just softback and as an e-book. We’re looking at sometime early in 2015 as the “live” date.

 A Journey of Choice is still available at Amazon and B&N and iUniverse. Oh, and (like John Grisham’s first book was) from the trunk of my Taurus.

Now, I must get to that ceiling. Where is my phone? I promised Dot that when I climbed the ladder, my phone would be in my pocket. Just in case. Oh, wait. I need more spray glue.

                Speaking of waiting, in liturgical churches, this season of Advent is one of waiting and preparation. A time to realign, if necessary—and it usually is--our priorities, our souls, to take stock of our spiritual health. Two of my writer friends have compiled two different booklets with daily Advent meditations. Those readings will be an aid toward the four-week season preceding Christmas.

May your Advent/Waiting/Preparation season be soulful and rejuvenating.

New words & experiences keep us learning & busy

~Google images~

 

 

              Because my two novels are set in the Missouri Ozarks, I “follow” Ozark Highlands of Missouri’s blog. Last week, it discussed how controlled burning practices were not what they should be. In the information was the word “forb.” The blogger apparently presumed his/her readers knew all the terms. I didn’t, so I Bing-ed the word.
 

          “Forb”—herbaceous flowering plants that are not graminoids (grasses, sedges and rushes). Examples of forbs are sunflower, clover, daylily and milkweed. A peek into vegetation ecology.

            Then, there’s the experience I had over the Thanksgiving weekend. Since my daughter’s family would be in the Mississippi deer woods from Wednesday through Saturday, I was fingered to tend their five Black Australorp hens. Again, I had to Bing (alternative to Google) the breed to find the correct spelling. Daughter wasn’t sure, she said.

          Tending her chickens was a piece of cake! All I did was gather the eggs, check on the water bucket, check to see no feet were hung in the wire, go inside, wash the eggs, stick ‘em in the fridge. Feeding/watering the indoor/ outdoor cats—and I was done. Fun.
 

          I love Bill White’s column in this paper, especially when he tells of doing things around the house himself. He and Cupcake get into it at times, don’t they?

          I, too, try to do things around here myself—not because I can’t afford to have it done, but because I like the challenge. Of course, I couldn’t EVER and wouldn’t EVER do re-laying of carpet, re-finishing hardwood floors, or laying tile in the kitchen like I hired done this past summer.

         But the living room ceiling was a different matter, I thought. At two different times, after several days of rain, some of the 70s-era Celotex tiles fell. The original textured plaster (from 1932) painted a light green came into view. Immediately, I knew I would not replace those fallen tiles. Thus began months of intermittent removal of the myriad squares. Then the grasping and twisting of the 40-year-old staples out of the wood strips (1 by 4s) Dad had fastened end to end and nailed through the plaster to the studs in the l-o-n-g room. Every eight inches of ceiling is another parallel set of boards, supposedly added to keep any more of the plaster from falling.

 

            Pulling staples pales in comparison with the prospect of repairing the ceiling where the original plaster fell. The shape of Africa, that hole shows the laths and the old cement between them and spreads under six of the boards. I would need nearly one-half inch of filler––for unlike today’s plaster coating, this stuff is thick. I looked on the internet, gathered some information on materials I would need. I bought a can of mix-it-yourself plaster of paris along with a sponge and spreader. But all that sits as yet untouched.

            I’ve had other ideas about how to repair it without all the aforementioned stuff. Maybe next week I can show what I did. The photo is someone else's ceiling.
 

           Meanwhile, onward in the rush to Christmas.