All I really want…

December 18, 2011 by 4 Comments

I was three years old when Spike Jones released this recording and it was one of just a few 78 rpm records that were played in my home during each Christmas season.  Back then, holiday music that was geared towards children didn’t have Grandma getting trashed by a demonic reindeer; songs were very few but still special in other ways or, like this one, just plain silly.  For me, hearing this music represented a time of peace in my home. Christmas seemed to put a protective cloak around a child who lived with hurt during the rest of the year.  Christmas made me feel safe.

My gift requests were simple, as I remember.  Always a doll, usually a Madame Alexander who was absolute perfection in the world of toys for girls.  I wasn’t allowed to play with any of them, each one sat on a shelf in my room and looked down, waiting for my daily admiration.   

One year, I was presented with Tiny Tears, a chubby rubber baby doll that cried.  She came with a bottle for feedings and when her stomach was pressed, tears rolled from her eyes.  I so over hydrated that doll with water that her little rubber butt soon rotted and my mother threw her in the trash.  I went searching through our garbage on a rescue mission but failed.  Sadly, I watched from a window as the sanitation truck hauled away the one doll I truly killed with too much love.

Now, many years later, what is it that I really want for Christmas?   Not much in the way of material things, that’s for sure.  I have my two front teeth (and several others) thanks to the creative, and expensive, work from our family Dentist.  He thanks me every day when he fires up his Land Rover. 

Certainly, I wish for a better economy in the year ahead, more cures for the diseases that so many suffer with and for the safe return home of our military who sacrifice so much in protecting our freedoms.

If I were to write a letter to Santa at this very moment, I’d ask him to find and bring me my 66′ GTO.  In that letter, I’d write down the VIN to make his search easier.  And, I’d ask for my Tiny Tears doll too.  Rotted rubber butt and all.

Hey, you never know!

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Take a line from a song you love and turn it into the title of your next blog post. Let the content follow.

Okay…this wasn’t about a song I particularly love, just some silly music from my childhood days.  And, right now, with all that is going on in our world, we NEED a little silly…right this very minute!

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Paperwork

December 7, 2011 by 18 Comments

He did it to me two years ago, right before the holidays.  In some ways, I did it to myself through my usual procrastination; A.D.D rules my middle-age world.

I’d just rather blame it on him.

Corporate tax returns are due soon.  Here with me are piles of paperwork to put together and develop a summarized report for our business.  I do it every year and our relative (as in family member) accountant handles the final returns.

He always puts in an Extension To File but presses me to have everything done before he leaves for Florida with her (won’t elaborate on the her subject, have done so in other posts so read there, if you’re interested).  Two years ago, I stressed over getting paperwork done by Christmas and he never took it until weeks after; last year, I again struggled to have everything in order and he left town, forgetting to file the returns before departing.

I think that I have every right to be…pretty damn pissed!

Mind you, this man was a top level government employee until his retirement.  From where I sarcastically sit,  people need to stop blaming George W. Bush for everything and start looking elsewhere.  Or maybe,  having a family member handling business affairs isn’t always a great idea.

Whichever the case might be, here I sit with piles of files on my desk (love when my words rhyme) and knots in my stomach as I look over our past fiscal year of business and cringe.   I try to keep positive in that our company is still plugging-along, not at the speed of several years ago, but…we’re still here and I see occasional glimmers of economic hope.  Hopefully, next year’s paperwork will reflect that long-awaited improvement for everyone.

And, hopefully, he doesn’t forget to take it…again!


Flicker of Inspiration #27: Here With Me (Flash Fiction!)

Your prompt is “Here With Me” and you MUST begin immediately! Don’t care how it goes – pick one thing that you can see at this moment, in the room with you, and write something down somewhere.

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Somewhere…in my memories

December 7, 2011 by 16 Comments

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It’s a little more than days away and, once again, I am digging deeply into the world around me to find some Christmas spirit. Much like snowflakes in bright sunlight, my enthusiasm for the season disappears quickly.  I keep holiday music tuned on every radio within reach, make endless To-Do lists and watch one more day breeze past.

But, I remember…

When there were so many presents under our tree that the huge evergreen was almost dwarfed by the packages festooned with colorful ribbons that spread across our living room.

When the season used to take forever to arrive and seemed to stay around longer.

When people didn’t line up in stores, like mercenaries, the day after Thanksgiving,  intent on inflicting pain and suffering just to purchase gifts.

When I had time to bake dozens of Christmas cookies that hid away on our pantry shelves, only to be found by sensitive little noses and prying fingers.

When everyone wore some type of holiday corsage or festive button on their coat.

When toys were simple and operated by imagination, not batteries or a power cord.

When packages that came in the mail were wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string.

When Bloomingdale’s was the main attraction where I lived and everyone raced to see their fabulous window display each year.

When outside decorations didn’t have front lawns looking like Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, packed with teetering-tottering air-blown holiday figures and mechanical reindeer.  Simple lights and a wreath on the door told passers-by that Christmas lived in that home.

And..I remember how my mother would walk into our home and remark how beautiful everything was, how she enjoyed all the traditional holiday food.  She loved Christmas…back before she started to forget.

All of this is somewhere, in my memories.

 

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write about a favorite Winter memory.

I share this post just about every year.  For me, it’s a gentle step back into a time when life was so much simpler and the memories are much like gifts waiting under the Christmas tree, all with “Open Me First” tags on them.  

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