Spending, Thanksgiving, Christmas thoughts

For the most part, I am a sane, responsible, thoughtful individual. Except after I make that first purchase at the Mall. Then I know, it could be downhill from there. At this point, one might think, walking out of the mall, putting the one package in the car trunk, and driving home would be the better part of valor. Somehow, this never occurs to me.(Does it occur to any woman? Most women? Some women?) After this first time, credit cards seem to fly out of my wallet.

My eyes see so many things I think will make life better. Creativity spills out of me, decorating rooms, clothes outfits fall into place, and beautiful shoes grace my feet. But, alas and alack, I don't not go into high-end spending. $800 Jimmy Choo shoes never touch my toes. No, not even from the sale rack. I have my limits and Jimmy's lovely, no make that gorgeous,shoes never see the inside of my closet let alone walk up the street with me. Jimmy's shoes don't make it into my shopping bag. (I love shopping bags!) Oh, but Jimmy's shoes make one salivate for wanting the beautiful, strappy shoes, shoes with all the sturdiness and use forced out of them. The straps entice the eye in with beautiful feathers floating down the center of the shoe, letting your feet enjoy the slight tickle. Other Jimmy's dazzle the eye with the glimmer and shimmer of glittering stones, twinkling in the artfully placed lighting of the store, further enhancing their brilliance, pulling us ever closing to opening up our wallet. This is where the sane part of me steps in, finally, to say, "Oh Ho No! This is not the shoe for you!"

And sure enough, it is not. One reaches the age where wearing shoes such as Jimmy's is a long ago remembered thrill. Nowadays, it the flat Geoxx shoe for me. Much more reasonable. Or perhaps the new MBT Mary Janes (waiting until this latest bill is paid off) Yes, walking without pain is number one of my list these days. I'm fortunate to have good feet that can still wear pretty shoes in a more reasonable design, even with a little kitten heel at times. Then, I feel, ever so glamorous and sophisticate, just like my mind felt looking at the Jimmy Choo's. Hip pain, not feet pain, is my big concern now. The style of the shoe doesn't make a difference, so with careful selection, pretty shoes line cover my shoe rack. Aquacize, twice weekly, and a special five minute floor exercise, twice daily take care of the hip pain, making the pain bearable.

This is the Silly Spending Season"that promises to get worse with the coming of Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. I think this year, I'll check into the internet and just see what goes on. I have to admit I haven't clue on how to do this, but I'll give it a go. Hey, it's a learning experience, eh? I've managed to avoid the stores and the internet on Black Friday so far. Not this year. I'll be online.

The DH and I are by ourselves this Thanksgiving. We have a dinner reservation at lovely, old restaurant nearby. Christmas will be spent with family at Susan's summer/fall/winter abode in Melbourne Florida, along with Don, her SO, a singular great guy (most of the time ) All of Ed's daughters will be together on Christmas Eve & Christmas. Jane, the oldest of the three, is flying down with us on 12/20. We will arrive in Orlando and pick up the car Jane has rented and drive to Sue's in Melbourne, FL.

The DH & I are staying at the Pineapple Inn, a B&B a bit down the street from Sue's. Jane will be staying at Sue's place, middle daughter. Barb, the baby,;-) & Jay will be down Christmas Eve and will be flying back on 226 or 27th. They are in a hotel a bit away from us.

I love this season. It's a time to reflect and realize all that we have to be thankful for and how blessed we are by God to live in this great country, the USA. Outside, on a cold, crisp dark evening with the stars shining bright and the moon rising anywhere it wants to rise, I can't help but feel the power of God. His power and his love spills out from the heavens, there for our taking. God sets no limits on His love and how much we can ask for or what we can ask him. No limits, no questions, just his love. All you have to do is ask. So simple.

God Bless you all. And if I don't make it back here before Christmas, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Sore throats; knitting woes; clutter slaying and general malaise

Tuesday last, the Prayer Shawl Ministry shared celebrating with a member’s family, their bereavement of the death of husband and father. The church setting was simply stunning. Found in the early 1800’s, St. John’s Calvary Episcopalian Church was set high on a hill, as churches usually were in those days, surrounded by an orchard probably began at the same time. Time, wind, rain, and snow, those tough elements, oblierated the information on many of the graves. The grounds were hilly and uneven, making walking upright a personal best for some (like me!). 

The Church building, original to its beginnings, is limited in facilities. The minister periodically gave instructions to the people gathered in the nave on how to find the necessary facilities. “You exit the pew, turn around, and exit the church. Then turn left and then left again to go down the hillside on that side of the church. A door under the church proper on the left will lead you to your destination.”  Or words to that effect.

It was a classic autumn day. Bright sun and vivid blue skies. No clouds. Wind was calm. Our friend’s casket was placed on the hilltop, overlooking the valley, east towards the Atlantic and down to his beloved Cape May.

Afterwards, we continued to celebrate at one of the oldest, original taverns in the United States. I forget now the original name of the tavern and for that matter, it’s present name. That was one powerful Perfect Manhattan I had before lunch.  Gotta watch that, eh?

That evening I was high with a fever and woke the next morning with a classic sore throat. Finally saw the MD/PA on Friday. Armed with a cache of cortisone, antibiotics, and Mucinex, I crawled home and pulled up the covers. 

It is now a week later. I’m still under the malaise of the sore throat; tired, sleepy, and achey. Don’t want to do a thing but have to.  Gotta get rid of books so my DH [dear husband] will be happy for a few days with less clutter staring him in the face. As I sat here, doing my best  procrastinating , I realized that I can’t do my knitting, which I love doing more than most things, because the work isn’t done. That is, I have not cleaned up my desk and all the other junk trails I’ve following me around. “You can’t play until your work is done” haunts me from my childhood (when do these memories stop bugging you?  thought that happened when you grew up?  which begs the question:  when do you grow up?) Knitting isn’t exactly play, now is it?  But it’s fun and something I like to do. Ergo…it’s play. At least in my mind. Which means unless I clean up this mess, I can’t knit. So around I go.

It’s another beautiful Fall day here in the Middle Atlantic States. From the weather forecast, we will have the same for the balance of the week. I look forward to sitting on the patio perhaps for the last time this year. But then, I’ll have the sun in Melbourne, FL in December.  If the gods, that is, don’t bring rain on me per usual during winter months in the sunny state.  And I’m on the way to the patio right now to call my dearest, oldest friend back in Whitney, PA.