Merry Christmas!

The inside of our Christmas card. Amy Hall Photography.
My favorite part is the horse racing, jockey Mike Smith and Zenyatta... S insisted on it making his list!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

This song was from my Mom's, and mine, favorite Christmas movie, Meet Me in Saint Louis. We always cried during the scene where Judy Garland sings to Margaret O'Brien. Those huge tears streaming down Margaret face, and ours. This Christmas will be bittersweet, the first without my Mother. But her ornaments are in my house and her recipes will be on my table.
I will be surrounded by family, and appreciate the love of my husband and children, and the health we are blessed with.
I ask everyone to take a family picture this Christmas. Don't put it off. No one will care about extra pounds, braces, hair, or stains. Do it know, you may not get another chance.
Merry Christmas, Gwennie

Christmas Returns

photo courtesy of Wisconsin Historical Society


One of my favorite stories about my Maternal Grandfather was about him returning a Christmas gift. My mother gave him a Pendleton wool shirt, and he didn't like the plaid pattern. So Mom, Grandma and Grandpa went back to The Hub (a store in Madison, long gone) to choose a different one. Grandpa explained to the salesman that he wanted to choose a different shirt, and the salesman said that was no problem, took the first shirt, folded it and put it back on the shelf. Grandpa took quite some time choosing the perfect shirt, one he raved about. The colors were great, he loved the plaid pattern... this was the perfect shirt. The salesman said he made an excellent choice, and sent the threesome on their way. You see where this story is going, don't you? Yes, my Grandpa choose the same shirt he had just returned. Mom and Grandma didn't say a word, just winked at each other and smiled.

I want a do over

There are days when everything seems to be going against me, and I want a do over. Start the day over, from scratch, make better decisions, better choices. Today was a day I want a do over with the boys. I struggle with thinking about where they are now, and if I could start over from birth, what I would do different. You won't know how badly you screwed up their lives, until it's too late. Is demanding they have a plenty of playtime and unstructured hours going to hurt them? Should I have had every hour accounted for? Should I have spent more time practicing reading and arithmetic, instead of letting them flood the sand box and make castles? Are they going to be behind because I wanted them to spend time painting and coloring instead of touching a computer? Will their creative and imaginative selves be applauded? Will it matter that they can tell you about Abraham Lincoln, but don't know anything about video games? I think children need lots of time to explore, create and dream, but is that unrealistic. I can't help comparing my boys to other children academically. I know it's wrong, but I do. No one wants their child singled out as the kid that doesn't get it. It would break my heart if they were teased about it. Do I have them in sports, even though I don't think the practices and games are beneficial to our family? Is it better to have them at a soccer game on Saturdays, instead of a family trip to a botanical garden in Milwaukee? What will they get more out of and remember as adults, that Mom wouldn't let me play soccer or that Mom took me to some neat places? Life is more competitive, stressful and rushed than it was when I was a child. Can I give them the childhood I want them to have, without causing problems in their adulthood? I wish I had the answers.

Just Wondering...

You know how your family does something, so you think that is the way it should be done, and then your spouses family does it a different way , and they do it wrong. I hope this isn't just me!

Anyway, I put pillows inside zippered pillow protectors and then into a pillow case. I just assumed that is how everyone did it, but am I wrong? We were at our cottage, which is shared by husbands family, and noticed pillows in another bedroom just have a case. I was aghast, husband was unfazed.

What do you do with your pillows?