old country house blog


Deja Vu –

Here we are again – the Red and green bins are hauled out again (did I not just pack them away?) , the tree is up, the cards are ordered, both earlier than ever this year…Happy Holidays are upon us…and NEVER have I been more ready and less prepared…at the same time.

the kids as babes
the kids as babes

It was so easy, when they were small and their hands, little fists really, tucked easily into mine like a puzzle piece and I could fill a shopping cart for $100, wrap it up, or not wrap it up… and Christmas would be done. Sometimes they favored the boxes and the candy canes…but I could rest assured that smiles would erupt Christmas morning…amid the squeals and racket…and it would feel…so very…

…so very Christmassy.

Those magical early years – when everyone believed…and thrills were cheap…are behind me now and any attempts to recapture the first glass of wine fresh buzz …are fruitless…the nauseating over-indulgence, over shopping  is followed by a sharp dip in spirits and I cannot wait to just pack it away and get back to Real life.

This year, all I want to give my children for Christmas is Peace. On Earth. In their Hearts. And more like the Wizard in Oz than the man in the red flannel suit…I want to give them keys to unlock the things they already have…

I want to give my First born son College First year Faith that his dreams are all going to come true, even if they materialize differently that he imagines…or imagined all along they would and into his stocking,  I will stuff the confidence to open his mind to new dreams…should they fit better.

I want to give my only daughter middle child, keeper of the peace… High School Senior Acceptance..to college…to the next step…and tell her that she will indeed be somewhere next year…and she will be over the moon in love with WHERE ever that ends up being and maybe even a boy. And this waiting game will be a distant memory…possibly even a good one.

I want to give my High School Freshman, my brilliant and slightly cynical, thoughtful third born son Hope that things will get better…feel more comfortable and less strange and idiotic and make him know that while much of a day is a colossal  “waste of his time”…his TIME is whatever he makes it, or dreams it to be…and help him know that he holds the key to all of it…right in his pocket…and always has.

Peace. Faith. Acceptance. Hope

 I would break the bank if I could buy these things. But then, what fun would that be? Life is precious and it is meant to be lived. Not bought. But Experienced…. Life is a pearl necklace of days…infinitely better when LIVED and strung together to add up to something beautiful and unique.

All I can really give them, and ALL they really NEED is my LOVE…and that I have in abundance.


so I guess my shopping is done? right.


  1. Lesli – all we can give our children these days is a tool box. Back when my mom and your dad were kids, parents tried to teach about specific occassions and occurences and how to behave during specific instances, but that all changed, and we now have to prepare our kids for a lifetime of evolving environments and a changing world. So we give them tools, and hopefully a tutorial in discerning which to use when, but they make different connections than we could foresee. But you’ve crammed their tool box so well. Polite, Self-Advocate, Do unto others, take no shit, love fiercely, how to use a hammer and screwdriver, how to make your home your own, how to love a puppy, how to deal with loved ones dying, how to vacation together, how to make your own nest, how to write, how to dream, how to paddle a canoe – You and Damon have done/are doing a great job with these three individuals you brought into the world. I know they make my world a better place, and I think they will all have an impact on our future that we can’t even fathom. So string your Christmas vines, sing your carols, watch your movies, and share the love. xoxo Gay

    1. Gay..I always know that you will “GET” me…it is as if we possess some genetic understanding of where we are coming from…or maybe it is because our parents were siblings…and we speak a similar language…with different dialects. Whatever the reason, I love hearing from you!xo

      1. Love you! I think it is in the DNA, and the shared knowledge – interesting that Leila-Jane was the oldest and kind of felt that Trev was her baby! She couldn’t die until she had one last visit with him – then it was only a matter of hours! All so fascinating. Merry Christmas to you and yours.

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