Christmas Time is Here! 12-23-2017

Image result for gypsy vanner foal xmasBy the way, all the images for this series are off Pinterest and not mine

Day Three of Christmas Horse Pictures!

Today will be posting late. Actually today will be posting tomorrow AM and then tomorrow’s edition will post later. Merry Confusion!

So how goes the Christmas Spirit of the season for today, day three of horse pictures? For the pictures, pretty good. I am enjoying them each and every day. For the ongoing problem of the Christmas Tree, and Christmas itself, not so well. I hated, yes hated,  admitting to ‘testing’ my kids, or anybody, to protect myself. I hate that I do that. I didn’t realize for years and years and then I just pretended I didn’t.

Yesterday, I claimed it. Shamefully, hatefully, reluctantly, but I did.

So now what?

Where do I go from here?

I was hoping to work on that yesterday (actual yesterday, not writing yesterday), but I haven’t been eating regularly and correctly so, in Kohl’s, I got suddenly overheated, nauseous and thought I might pass out. Now, why am I linking this to the Christmas Trees?

Wait, the ego-side of me is saying.  I can make this sound better. But I can’t really. So I felt ready to pass out. Pup and I went to Dairy Queen and got ice cream. Have you, by the way, tried the Hot Chocolate and Oreo Blizzard? Delicious!

Notice how my flow of thoughts keeps avoiding the real issue? Maybe if I avoid the issue long enough, it will go away?

Truth?

In my head, I really wanted to clean up and put up the tree. In my heart, I wanted to clean up and put up the tree.  So, instead, I watched Youtube video’s and scanned Facebook.

I know avoidance is one of my highly polished skills, but at the end of the night I was mad and upset with myself. It’s it funny how many ways we have to totally screw ourselves over, pretending all the time that we are happy?

Oh, joy, ecstasy. I am so happy being miserable.

Merry Humbug!

Remember the Christmas Spirit I wasn’t finding? Well, we had Christmas with my Aunt today, at her nursing home.

I hate that my family is getting smaller (8 at last count), and we can’t make Christmas the same as it has been forever. No more my family over at the Aunt’s house on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day at my parent’s home. Heck, we don’t even really have Christmas in my house anymore. It’s almost like another day. Opening the present and keep going on with life. Ships in the night.

This is the little kid in me kicking and screaming because things have changed and I DON’T like it! I want things to be the way I want them because that’s how I want them!

I want the memories of when Christmas was special. Little faces glowing with the thrill of lighting a Christmas Tree and the joy of hanging stockings. Waking up early to peek and see if Santa rally came. Me staying up half the night to get everything wrapped and under said tree.

Pause. Breathe. Breathe.

Maybe I don’t want to invest in Christmas this year because I know it is going to be different. It can’t not be different. My Aunt is in a nursing home and can’t go to my parents’ house on the Day. And it isn’t even my parents house any longer, it is my parent house. Mom is not there anymore and I really needed her this week.

Truth?

I don’t want to wake up Christmas morning and have it any different from all the years of my life.

I don’t want to wake up any day of my life and have it any difference than it ever has been.

Impossible, I know. It is already different. It can’t help but be different. Every breath I take makes a difference.

The question is, how can I learn to live with the difference, not only on Christmas Day, not only with the ever-evolving relationship with my kids, my job, my family, but with the ever-evolving relationship with myself?

Does who I am today, on Christmas Eve Eve, have to be less-or-different than on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? This year? Next year? Ten years from now?

And I’m back to the Christmas Tree. I am angry with my kids for not putting the tree up because having the tree up means something to me from my past that I want them to understand and respect, even though they can’t. It’s not their past with the Christmas Tree which was, with my Ex, rather sporadic at best.

Do I think that if I stop my life it won’t pass me by? If I hold my breath, stubbornly, the world will relent and let me have my way? At Christmas Time or anytime?

At least holding onto my anger feels like I am doing something…..

 

Christmas Time is Here! 12-21-2017

Image result for horse christmas image

I went looking for horse Christmas images yesterday and, of course, found a-plenty. True horse lover, I was unable to decide which picture to use so I decided to use them all. This means, yes, prepare for five days of pictures of horses and the holiday. Selfishly, I am going to bombard you with horses just because I want to see them!

I must admit, I am having a hard time finding my Christmas Spirit. Maybe because the past year has been such a struggle, but, when has the year not been a struggle? There are always struggles in each and every life.

Reading your blogs has been eye-opening and a point-of-stability for me. It’s easy to feel like you are the only one struggling against this or that or whatever, but hard to feel alone when you, my fellow bloggers, are so open and honest both in your personal musing and in your writings. You inspired me to do better, be better, live better.

Now, back to the Christmas Spirit.

The tree isn’t up.  My excuse is that my kids put up the tree. It’s artificial (the tree), so how hard is it to walk the box from the basement to the living room, set up the base and snap in the branches?

So, I hear you say, why don’t you do it yourself?

See, this is my problem. I refuse to do it. Partly out of stubbornness, partly out of pique. I asked them to put up the tree and they agreed. Let me point out here, the kids I am speaking of are 22 and 25. Responsible young adults, you say? Well, with a mother’s love, I say not really.

No, that’s not altogether true. They are young adults and, mostly responsibly. As responsible as any young adult at their ages.

Let me say here, I love both my kids very much!

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to miss them. Can you tell they both live at home?

I am proud of both my daughter and son. Daughter being a hard term since she was born my son.

Wow, never wrote that before. It has been a long struggle from that first day when he informed me he was a she. I think we, she and I, have finally come to an understanding. She is living her life as she wants. She is happier. She is moving towards responsible adult. What more can I ask? (Besides chores around the house and some $$ to help pay bills).

As for my youngest son, I am so proud of the progress he has made. Just when I think nothing will ever change with him, that he will let life pass him by, he up and proves me wrong.

So how did this monologue go from Christmas horse pictures to Christmas spirit to kids?

Just one of the mysteries of life, I suppose.

(Four more days of musing to conclude this anybody?)

 

 

 

 

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER 5-10-2017

 

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner opens Wednesday morning, May 3rd. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, May 12th, 2017.

Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner

man

Fog swallowed the night, glowing tail-lights of the car and the wound-slash of the sputtering bulb above the abandoned way-station the only light.

“You ‘re late.”

Voice cutting my spine like the knife which killed me.

His fingers wove webs of pain. My pain. His pain. Pain conscious in the night and fog.

Bone-bread. Bone-bread.

His hand grabbed mine, placing it on the string and stone between us.

“Bone-bread. Bone-bread, let me walk with the spirits of the dead.”

Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Words echoing in my head. Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Clear thy sight for the spirits of the dead.

“Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Clear my sight on the spirits of the dead.”

The pain was sharp and sudden. There shouldn’t be pain. Not in the land of the dead.

The night filled with shifting shadows.

Bone-bread. Bone-bread. God help the summoned dead.