Puppy launching....

It is the final stage of my most difficult and important part when raising a litter of puppies....  letting them go on.  So many people have asked me "it must be so hard to let them go when you love them so much..." but I realize how needful and important it is by just one thing.  The right person ALWAYS comes for the puppy.  And when the pup and their forever human set eyes on one another it's never how you expect it to be, seldom the pairing you would predict, but it always feels absolutely and totally "right" when they do.  I watch them fall in love with one another for the very first time - no matter the age of the new owner, no matter how long the puppy has been with me, no matter if it's a whole family or just a single person looking to have one more small life to care for and make theirs complete, it is an inevitable as the rising of the sun and the falling of rain... a force of nature that tempers the sadness and loss I feel with the joy of knowing they go to the very best home...

Luke began to know his family early on in the game.  Little "A" came for regular visits with her mom to handle him, feed him his gruel, fold him in a blanket and tuck him into her arms... and now he has segued into his new life with very little difficulty....He is a private eater, preferring to "gnosh" on his crunchie kibble while the family is away at work and school, but he is a good little man, learning some fun puppy tricks, sleeping in the family bed (and he takes turns so that when "A" has family visits he still has an anchor to keep him secure.).  I truly hope he will help bring that lovely little girl with her heart full of sunshine out into the world and be a key to her having a great connection to fun things through him.... like training classes, agility classes, or even having him trained early on as a "visiting companion" for the hospitals and the hospices.  Or just go the park and play "fetch"!

Reba left in a whirlwind!  The whole family came to choose from the available pups, but when "B" held Reba it was that odd mix... the puppy I thought was the sweetest natured of the bunch was recognized for her loving temperament and calm demeanor...  and promptly feel asleep in her new girl's arms.  Lily was whisked home to Surrey and I lost my best "TV buddy"...

The next to leave was Garth.  A truly handsome fellow with great photogenic potential and a quirky and fun loving nature, Garth was scooped in the few minutes between me dressing for work and having to clock in...  He has been placed in the arms of a wonderful extended family to be a comfort to "T"'s Mom after illness, and also to give her a new love after the loss of her long term Shih Tzu companion last winter.  Mr. "Schnuffle" now shares his life with a family who reaches out to others, and he is much loved by all.

Willie was the "dark horse" of the group!  A wonderful family drove all the way from Whistler BC to make sure he was the "one", and left within the hour holding "Mambo" in their laps!  He was so happy to meet his very own boy but I was able to have a last, long goodbye hug from my "big" puppy.  His family includes a mini Schnauzer - aptly named "Schnauzie" - and since Mambo has the best "other dog" relations it is a perfect match!

Little Dolly had a couple of false starts, but finally "J" saw her picture and knew this was the puppy for her home.  "Daisy" has gone to live in Osoyoos near the Smitty's where she shares her family with Pepper the Shih Tzu.  Hopefully she will be able to join agility training with Pepper soon, so they will have years of running, jumping and fresh air together, and lots of love for their people as well.

And now, at last, Faith will be going home to Ladysmith.  She has gone from being one of a pack to "just one".  Her sweet little face and wagging tail will be sorely missed, but not so much by the other dogs.  Sheldon has acquired a real attachment to her, though - sharing the basket together on the bedroom floor has been a nightly occurrence for the last week. She can climb up and down the stairs, loves to jump and fetch, eats her dinner nicely, sleeps happily, and loves to cuddle and give puppy kisses... and tomorrow I have to say "goodbye".

I must admit I won't miss the "puppy paper" all over the place, nor the smell of the trash on garbage day!  I will miss the expectant little eyes at the top of the stairs, the silliness of "skiing" through the pack to open the back door for the big dogs after work, and sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor while a pack of "carpet sharks" tugs on my pant legs and shoe laces...  The playpen will be cleaned, sterilized and stored until (and if) another litter arrives in the future.  I will go back to regular life, cutting the lawn, scooping poop outside, getting the swimming pool ready for summer... and missing each individual, but I hope to have the occasional "visit" from one or two of them through the next year or so. 

To all the families who "adopted" these little treasures I give a heartfelt "Thank You!"...  They are truly full to the brim with love for you.  You are the right person for your puppy, and they are the perfect puppy for you!  I will keep spoiling their "Big Dog" family as long as they are with me... and if you need us, just call. 

Now it's back to regular chores, what looks like a sunny summer at last, and the peace of my garden.... somehow I don't think I need a caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go at the moment, but there is always one when I need it... ah.....  mission accomplished.....

Drunken sailors....

Once again I have the playpen set up in the living room and once again I have a small furry pile of puppies to love.  Dear little Penny gave birth early on a Monday morning - about two hours after I came home from work - and presented me with six hamster sized babies to love for a while.  I had been waiting for them rather unsure what to expect, but like the other two times before she had an uncomplicated delivery in the kennel next to my bed, watched over once more by her best friend, Sheldon the cat. 

I had been joking that I was going to name this bunch for "fast cars" and was bantering names like Ferrari, Bugatti, Fiat, Isuzu... but what popped out looked more like little black and white cows or brown and white horses!  "They look too 'Country' to be cars" I thought....   and asked a group of friends for the names of their favorite Country Music stars instead.  I have two black and white boys - Luke (Bryan) and Willie (Nelson), one brown and white boy - Garth (Brooks), two brown and white girls - Reba (McIntyre) and Dolly (Parton) - and of course the little black and white girl is Faith (Hill). I have spent nearly a month now coddling my littlest "Stars" and thoroughly enjoying the process!

There are lots to do when you have small puppies... mostly lots of laundry!  I have worn out nearly every towel I own, as well as a number of blankets and face cloths, but the pups are past the first helpless weeks and on into the next phases... the "drunken sailor" phase where their little round bodies are too big for their tiny legs and they stagger and roll, playing with one another while chirping like Tribbles.  I hear their tiny mock growls and it makes me laugh because Penny used to do the same when she was tiny.  One tiny paw lifts.. and the whole puppy falls over!  Daisy has been attempting to sneak into the pen and lap up the puppy gruel, and Penny will leap over the side to snarf it down if I don't stand (or in my case, crouch) beside the pen while spoon-feeding the little ones.  They know my voice, recognize that my hands will rub all the spots that need it, gum with their little toothless mouths on the edge of their dinner plate; they lie passive and comfortable in my open hands, their little faces looking up at me while I giggle and smile at them; they enjoy their warm baths in the sink, wrapped afterwards in a soft washcloth and rolled like a "puppy sausage roll" to lay on the heated bedding afterwards.  I am in awe of the way of nature, that even before they can hear or stand they will struggle out of their bedding to pee on the newspaper I have surrounding their warm nest.

Even though they are less than a month old I have been spoon-feeding them since their eyes opened to give Penny a healthier time, and I am proud to say it was worth it!  She is still keeping them clean, feeding them throughout the day, but she comes to sleep with me on the bed at night, tired out and ready for a break from "Mommydom".  On Sunday afternoon I will dress her in the first "weaning shirt", move the little pack into the kitchen with a water dish and lots of newspaper, and photograph each pup.  Although I already have homes for two - Faith will go live in Ladysmith where she will become a spoiled little "boat dog" to a family who was "prescreened" and Luke will be keeping part of his name and going  to be best friends to a little girl with big blue eyes, a shy smile, and a heart as sweet as summertime.

I am doing my best to give them a healthy life; they are clean, fed, socialized with their Mom, Uncle Folly, Aunty Daisy and their big Sister, Molly from next door.  Sheldon the cat will still stroll through and check them over, but is mostly uninterested for the moment as they are too boring to be fun for a big cat like him, and Xena... well, she's just Xena...  They are learning to play with toys, explore their environment, try new things, they are handled throughout the day, and I have had friends over to handle them so they are used to people, especially kids! I hope for good weather soon so they can come outside in their "puppy pen" and learn about grass, toddle in the yard, and charge up their little "solar batteries" in a patch of sunshine while I putter in the garden.  And I know that soon they will go to their "forever" homes, with their only purpose in life to be companions... small dogs with a big job!

When they do leave it will be too soon for me, but their new families deserve to enjoy some of their "toddler time" and fall in love.  They will be taking a piece of my heart with each of them, full to the brim with love for their new families... and I will miss them.  I hope their new families keep in touch...  but for now it's sunny days on the patio bricks, puppy paper in every room of the house, toys and freshly washed blankets in all the corners... and I'll have a cafe mocha vodka valium latte... to go.....  ah... spring....

Made by hand....

When does something become more than just a hobby?  At what point in the creation process does a project or an urge to create turn from a private moment in time to a work of art?  I was lucky enough to follow that process recently with a friend in my quilting group.

Leona Harden lost her son 10 years ago to Schizophrenia.  Yes, the big "elephant" in the middle of the room.  The side of many that is struggled against daily, that sadly some become too fooled by the lies their brain tells them to continue the struggle and decide that life is not enough.  It takes a long, long time for those who love to get past that...  all the levels of grieving, all the guilt and "what ifs", and the helpless feelings that keep them "stuck" in that moment.

Leona's son was a young artist attending college in the USA.  A promising talent, Alex also had a love of drawing, and was known throughout his circle for his insight into the process.  His death at 21 left a huge hole nothing else could ever fill.  But it's what we do when that hole needs filling that becomes the memorial to a young life gone too soon.  Leona took a concept she had been thinking of for a very long time, and with her talents as a textile artist and her ability to "think outside the box" she has created an amazing tribute to her son, and a piece of art that I hope will raise awareness among the young.. that sometimes when we are at our darkest there are still those who WILL catch us when we fall.

This amazing wall quilt was constructed using photographs and imagery that Leona compiled into a dream of love to fill that hole... literally.  Some of these tiny applique pieces are only 1/4 of an inch in size, and they have been painstakingly laid over one another, then overstitched with threads to give the entire piece movement and life.  She posted photos of the process and shared the development and techniques freely with our online group of quilters.  It was a privilege to watch, and an honor to be a part of the process.  We were all encouraged to give constructive feedback, asked how we felt about colour choices, layout, textures, fabric choices...  we all were given a chance to cheer with each successful stage completed, and learn from any "mistakes"; yes, Leona ripped stitches and changed things as she went, like most of us do when we are working on our textile art.

This is NOT your average quilt.  It's finished dimensions are about 100 inches in width and 60 inches in height.  It is meant to be a piece of art, as well as a window into the love a mother bears her son...  This beautiful creation has now been shared with the world.  "For Alex - Love Mom" has won "Best In Show" and has now been featured in a local quilting program in Leona's home State of Tennessee.  The best news so far has been a request for Leona to bring her work to the college where her son attended, to display the art, lecture on the technique, and bring awareness of Schizophrenia to the other young people attending the college.

Art is ephemeral;  nothing is forever, and while it exists if it isn't shared with the world it is wasted.  In the same vein, each one of us is also a work of art.  We are not here forever, and the only immortality we have are the memories we leave and the lives we touch.  Share your talent with the world; share your thoughts, your gifts, your strengths... sing, paint, sew, build, make music, exchange ideas and ideals, grasp the hand of the person beside you and lift them up with you.  And realize that art is created by us and for us, and that not everyone has to like us, but as long as we love ourselves and do what we love it doesn't really matter what the world thinks of our art... after all, it's all great or it's all crap, depending on the place where the viewer is coming from, and that's okay.

Sew.... I'm back in the studio, creating some more art...  I'm happy to get feedback, ready to rip out a few stitches and start parts of it over until I get it right, just like I can do that now with myself.  Yes, nothing is perfect, but it's those imperfections that others see that give art it's life, and make life into art...   so I can think "outside the box"... but that's enough philosophy for now, it's back to puppies and laundry before I get to play, and in the meantime I'll have a caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go...

Standing solid like a stone....

There seems to be a common theme to my life at the moment.  Endure.  When something happens that would have upset my equilibrium where, in the past, I would have been knocked sideways now I am learning to stand solid and endure the waves.  Not in a "what can't be cured must be endured" kind of way, not as a martyr who stands and shudders as the lash strikes, but in a simpler way...  more like making the upset not so much of a priority, and not making someone else's emergency create chaos.  Like a stone that water washes over, I am learning slowly that the water won't hurt me and I don't have to allow the flooding to affect my mood, my actions, my life.  That isn't to say that I am always unaffected.  When it comes to those I care for I am able to take actions for the good to make sure I have done the right thing at the time.  Starting small and working towards having that reaction every time has made me feel more centered.  I understand more now who I am and what I need for myself.  I also understand that I have a hard, focused part of my personality that I can allow to override my fears so I can act instead of react. 

There have been a few bites of chaos in my otherwise quiet and rather peaceful life.  My dear baby brother "R" had a mini stroke;  he was worried for me and sent me a message so I would know where he was and what had happened.  I left work.  Simple as that.   Where before I would have been frozen with being unable to make a decision I told my employer "I have a family emergency", locked most of the place up tight and went where I needed to be.   He was sitting alone in Emergency and uncomfortable in the nasty bed...  not a fun gig, to be sure.  But his condition was stable and he was incredibly glad to see me.  I stayed at his side until he was ready to finally get some sleep and drove home again.  It felt right for the first time in a long time, acting the way I needed to instead of the way someone else thought I was supposed to.

Then work; one of my regular customers had a terrible fall and I was first on the scene.  Dear God, I have never seen so much blood.....  the poor lady was laying on the floor unconscious and had split her head open on a fixture.  I acted by rote; call the "code", put pressure on the wound, supporting her head, get a customer to call 911 and wait.  I was joined quickly by other staff, but I could not let up the pressure on the gash in her forehead, and I needed to keep her on her side as her nose was also bleeding and I needed to keep her airways clear.  I'm so glad I always wear those little black gloves, and I had used so much paper towel for the compress that it didn't bleed through....  tossed the gloves and sanigel'd my hands up the wazoo afterwards!   And for the first time I felt what pure, clean adrenaline really feels like!  Not the sick manic feeling of being out of control and pulled behind a runaway horse, but with a firm hand on the reins, giving me the strength and focus I needed during a crisis without the horrible after-feeling that comes with not acting... and the ability to absorb the shock without burying it later or allowing it to continue to echo through me. 

There is no jitteryness, no aimless wandering, no inability to focus.  I just "am".  Calm.  It feels like peace.

I laughed the other day when a coworker told me they were worried that confrontation with another staff member would restrict their hours... and I told them "suck it up, smile, be courteous... it makes them crazy when you don't react..."...  and it's something I said with a big smile on my face and a chuckle in my voice.  Because I know from personal experience that when you fake that until you feel it, eventually it all calms down and smooths out, like the ripples on water when you drop a stone into it.  The stone is still a stone, it's the water that is moving.  Now I get to carry that peace with me.  It flows from me and is attracting those who need it.  No judgement.  No aggression.  No anger.  No more open, wounded feeling.  Just daily acceptance that the world is where it needs to be and so am I.

Now I'm going to enjoy a few days off and take care of myself... a little rest, a little time with friends, a little creativity and a lot of peace.  Well, I somehow don't seem to need that caffe mocha vodka valium latte....  and I'm not going anywhere....  

One step up at a time...

I am again stepping into the storm and trying to steer my way out without floundering. Living life in a normal way has not been normal for me.  Giving myself permission after waiting for it elsewhere is so new that I second guess myself a lot of the time.  I get myself caught in small details instead of keeping my head down and concentrating on one thing at a time.  But it's spring, and really time for spring cleaning at last.  That includes airing out my head, as well as my house! I have embraced the idea that taking care every day and keeping my home maintained will do more for me than all the soul searching and "belly button" examinations I could spend time on.  Having my floors clean, the bathrooms smelling fresh, dishes done and tidied and clothing folded and put away lifts my spirits more than clinging to an illusion of company on my Facebook pages.  I have moved my sewing station back into the kitchen where I can enjoy the sound of the television blaring music while I have movies playing in the background as an illusion of company, and I am getting things done.  Meals are actually quite regular, the dogs are happy, the cats sleep in comfort on my bed and dream.


The most amazing and joyful thing in my life is my dear little Grandson!  "C" is the center of the family universe, the reason I work so hard to be normal.  I am also facing the anniversary of my Mom's passing....  I miss Mom so very much, every day.  Having my little Grandson to love now makes it so bittersweet.  Mom would have loved him and been proud of us all....  my wonderful, strong, loving daughter, my amazing sons, and me making one step after another... a bit slow at times, but still moving ahead where I can, when I can.  When I think that I "can't" I just ask myself "what would Mom do?"...  and what she would have done is take stock of what she had, make do when she could, make something out of what was on hand, and just keep going.   I have plenty to work with, I'm lucky enough to have my health, I have lots of free time to do what is needed, and I'm certainly no slouch when it comes to "invention"....  I do, however, have a problem sometimes remembering there are some things I CAN'T do.... like lift 80 lbs....  over and over... without hurting!  Or leap tall buildings at a single bound!

Truth is, I am a hoarder.  I hoard stacks of paper, memorabilia, fabric scraps, coloured egg shells, threads, cooking equipment, recipes...  for me, each piece of paper evokes a memory or a reminder of something; the broken saxophone, the blue ribbons from the fair, the last letter from Mom, the children's watercolours, envelopes from friends who have sent me things...  sometimes I use the chaos created by the piles and boxes as a distraction.  I "hide" from the rest of the world behind "to do" lists that really have nothing "to do" with everyday living but are in fact a reason to NOT go out into the world.   But I have lived too long in "dream time" and need to feel the world again.  Feel the wind in my hair, the rain on my face, sunshine, moonlight, the wonderful aliveness that I feel in the cold...There have been moments over the last couple of weeks where I felt myself drifting and unstable.  Those are the times I literally stand with my feet planted and feel the weight of my body holding me to the ground.  I am all the anchor I need right now.  No amount of self deprecation, no amount of second guessing my responses to outside stresses, and no amount of worry will change that.  Take a deep breath and keep moving.  Just because someone else thinks they want something of me doesn't mean I have to give it.  And it doesn't mean I get to give up.  Yes, the legal battles continue, and no one can take care of my business except me.  I cannot quit looking at the problem or it will escape me, but it's no longer sending me into a tailspin of anxiety.   It doesn't take up all my thoughts or all my waking hours trying to solve some problem that isn't really a problem to begin with;  it's just a difference of opinion...  and I like my opinion much better...

So it's another weekend of quiet and listening to the little dogs upstairs and the kids downstairs....  I think it's "Beer Pong" night for them and their friends... For now I'm just taking it one step at a time and leaning on my friends when it gets too much.  I think of them as  "Angels at my back" right there with my Mom at the head of the line, with her right arm around me, lifting me up, and her left hand covering my heart, shielding me from hurt.... and in the meantime, I'll have a caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go... please!

Cutting ties....

It's been a hell of a year.  After a long and difficult time I have to look back at what I accomplished over the last while, where I am, how I've grown and where I need to keep improving.  Too many days I have felt like I was walking drunk; feeling unstable, my head swimming, slow to make decisions, uncomprehending what moment I was in... tired, a little dreamy, sometimes with long reaching and lasting affects...  The low times were just that;  no movement, no change, no life in me and no effect on me.  Other times meant I was risking things I shouldn't, spending too much, eating too much or not enough, spreading my energies too far and not finishing things I started...  sharp and focused, obsessive, energized, manic... not good...  Both cycles have been going full tilt for a while.  In spite of the cyclical patterns my brain fires in I have still managed to keep my job (a first for me in what has been a pattern of long standing), I have still gotten myself up every day, the dogs are still fed, watered, cleaned up after, the cats are healthy and happy, and I continue to take my medication - although the dosage has been increased for a couple of months now.  The toughest part has been letting go.  Letting go without trying to take the baggage up again is hard.  Leaving little bits of it on the side of the road as I travel hasn't cut the ties enough to keep me moving forward.

In my latest call to one of my best friends "T" talked me through to another level of understanding by letting me answer my own questions.  I realize that at the very earliest times in my life, when I was very small and first realized the universe held no boundaries, that my greatest fear has been being anchorless  and becoming lost in the chaos of that universe.  Instead of learning to put up boundaries for myself I allowed all and sundry to invade my emotional space.  I let myself become tied to people who didn't have my best interests at heart; the selfish, the self serving, the bullies, predators and those with so little self esteem they "needed" someone else to push, take from, bully, prey upon and belittle.  I emulated the worst of those traits and learned to reflect back what others felt to hide who I was from them and from myself, mirroring their traits to blend in with the rest of the herd, not show I was vulnerable.  But that made me more vulnerable instead of less...

I have begun the internal visualization of physically cutting the bonds to the terrors from my past.  I have felt for a long time that my "heart" has been wrapped with a long, tough tentacle that anchored me to those terrors, and it has taken some deep searching,  looking at the darkest parts of myself - those parts of me I never wanted to examine too closely or allow to come into my direct field of view - and bring them from the peripheral to center stage,cringing in horror at what I have been.   There has been a huge disconnect in my interface with the real world and the human condition. Uncaring, unthinking, unguided... sheeplike in following someone else's ideas to avoid making hard and healthy choices for myself.  Selfish and childish, blindly believing lies because it was easier than believing those I loved would lie to me, and so I lied to the ones I loved most and to myself as well.

The time for being something I wasn't for someone else is over...  So I have taken that scarred and gnarled "chain" that encircles the core of me and snares me in my own lies and begun to mentally "slice" through it to set myself free.  I "see" myself grasping the tough tissue that invades my "body" and cutting viciously to remove the thing from my emotional center.  In my innermost and most basic core I worry that unless I extract every cell of that "chain" it will grow back and ensnare me again like a cancer. I use whatever my mind can create to accomplish removing the poisonous link; sharp knives, razors, scissors, cutting through something that resembles the thick sinews or the tough cartilage in the bones of a large piece of meat, trying to extract all of it without destroying the core of me in the process, finally digging deeply with my own fingers to tear it from my "flesh".... and I feel those distant and unwanted ties dissipating, thinning like candle smoke from a glowing wick.

I still dream that I confront those "ties" and scream at them... why they couldn't be there when I needed them, when my children needed them after all the times I had been there when they or their children needed me... but I know those conversations are useless because they would never happen in real life, and even if I did speak those words, those I spoke to would only lie to me again and blame me for their own failures, or turn a deaf ear so they couldn't see those dark parts of themselves, or tell other people and themselves that I was just a crazy liar to discredit me and deflect their shame onto me again.  A futile and unneeded waste of energy at this point, because just as it was a year ago it is still today; not my lesson to teach, not my responsibility to rescue...

The thing is, like a baboon that throws it's own feces when angry, the only ones who smell are the ones throwing the dirt.  I just  stay far enough away to be out of range and let things be.  So let them toss their "rotten eggs" at me to no effect.  The only people who's opinion matters to me now are those who have been with me on the "rough ride" and who stuck around long enough to see it through.  Even though I haven't completely cut the bond I am close enough that I can feel myself beginning to drift, but it's not away into uncharted chaos.  I'm finally starting on my life journey and steering away from the harbour I thought was home.  I can bring all the important things with me; self esteem, self awareness, calm, balance, love... and leave the rest.  I don't have to be anchorless, I just have to untie myself from the port and head back out to ride out the rest of the storm.  And rather than worry about being broken by crashing against the dock I'll breath the fresh air and feel the joy of racing ahead of the wind...  and let the baboons fill their pants back on shore.

As of today I am lucky enough to have all my children back in my arms, knowing in myself how much I love them.  And today, as I held my daughter in my arms and hugged her tight I kissed her cheek and told her how much I loved her, and how much I miss my Mom... and how happy my Mom would be.  Soon my child will hold her own child in her arms and he will fall in love for the "first time"... and if I'm very, very lucky I will have a chance to witness the miracle that happens when he falls in love with her.  And I hope in my heart of hearts that the darkness will end with me... 

So here's a toast to you who have ridden out the storm with me, to those who I pass on my travels, to those I love, and those I have truly left behind... a pomegranate cider to celebrate Yuletide.  Next time I may need a cafe mocha valium vodka latte to go... but not this time......

Nothing like a plasma fire.....

It's December and my thoughts are streaming ahead to Christmas.  I'm listening to the "log" show and mulling my thoughts instead of wine.  I have gifts stashed away for the ones I love, plans to pick up special purchases over the next few days, thoughts in my brain about having friends over for my annual Christmas party...  The lights are ready to be flung over the shrubs out front; red for the crab apple tree, magenta for the little azalea I planted when it was small, green into the kiwi bushes and yellow for the quince tree... there are strings of blue to put around my front door once the swags of artificial fir have been stapled into place again, and I can hardly wait to put up the wreath in it's place to welcome guests to my door.

Today I purchased enough butter to make my Christmas cakes, a few cookies, perhaps some almond danish...  just enough to eat and some to share.  There are cute plastic zippy bags with Christmas gift tags on the front so you can write "to" and "from" on them, load them with goodies and pass them to friends and coworkers...  I have enough wrapping paper to outfit Santa for the season, tags and bags and tape and ribbons...  and canning jars to make Christmas pudding in, too.   I'm looking at making something large and green from boughs in my garden to place on my front porch and welcome those who visit.  I have the perfect planter in the back garden to use for it, and lots of time over the next couple of days to gather my greenery....

I love all the greenery associated with Yuletide;  fresh cut Fraser firs from a farm... oh, my....   fir boughs and ivy masses, holly sprigs and mistletoe.   Of all of them I love the holly the most.  I tried to plant holly near my front door when I first moved here over 20 years ago, but with one thing and another the plants were left dry for too long and not planted soon enough, so they died.   When the children were small I picked fresh holly with the neighbours permission and I placed it around the front door.  At the end of the season I tossed the dried sprigs under the azalea beside the  door and left them there until clean up in the spring.  And now, hidden underneath in the shelter of the big azalea shrub are a dozen small holly bushes.  Even though I have masses of ivy growing in my back garden it's the holly by my door that cheers me the most.  Holly with shiny, dark green leaves that are sharp with the prickles that make them a deterrent to small hands. I have been given to understand that growing holly is finicky.  It doesn't transplant well, grows very slowly, and needs to be cross pollinated to bear fruit - most holly purchased at the garden center has been grafted with a male branch to be sure and produce those bright red berries everyone expects.  I was always told that holly planted by your door wards trouble and brings luck.  After all that has gone on and all that was removed from my garden in the last few years I'm delighted and intrigued by the discovery I made this summer. So I have little miracle holly bushes;  such a pleasure.

I'm getting ready for another series of "firsts" this Christmas;  first time without my Mom to call or invite or tell my joys to; first time with my son back in the house, but living separately as an adult; first time since I was divorced - first time to make a turkey to share on Christmas day and ask those I love to partake...  Tonight I have made some plans for the next few days; where to shop, what to mix, when to make things, who to invite here...  and while I'm making my lists and checking them more than twice the "log" show is crackling on my 50 inch plasma screen in 720p....  no smoke, no smell, just the quiet sound of resin pockets bursting in surround sound.  I'm thinking about mulled wine, but in the meantime I'd really like a caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go...  and add a stick of cinnamon ....