Middle aged musings from farm & hearth
I’ve got to hand it to my daughter …. she is one dedicated horsewoman. I love my horses, I do. And I get out there and do what I have to for their well being – feed, clean, clothe, etc. But when it comes to these cold winter days, my horse gets a big fat vacation from anything that resembles work… because I don’t ride in this kind of weather, nope, not doing it.
I took these pictures around 8:30 this morning and it was gawd -awful cold. Max and K have been practicing for the approaching show season and some of these classes are new to K… showmanship, horsemanship, trail. While 17 year old Max knows most of the ropes, K is still learning. Sometimes Max takes advantage of the newby and says… ” what? huh?… you want me to do… what? I can’t HEEEEEEAR yoooooou….la la la la la la ….) Horses are not as stupid as some people might have you believe. K has learned how to answer that little “duh” gimick and now Max might try it now and then, but he quickly realizes it doesn’t work and gets right down to business.
It’s been a sad few weeks around here – horrible tragedies in the news, and my Aunt’s passing in the season she loved most. I needed something to remind me of the Joys in this world, and Christmas time for me is usually abundant. My cousin posted about a house in New Britain.. the Christmas House… and I knew I had to go. My daughter accompanied me, with pasta and canned goods in hand for admission… see story exerpts, taken from last years Hartford Courant article, below…
“Rita Giancola started putting up Christmas decorations in October. Transforming eight rooms, a hallway, a stairway and the front lawn into the region’s biggest Christmas shrine takes time. It’s a labor that Giancola has been doing every year since 1978, and it’s a tradition that she’s determined to keep going. “I’m never going to retire,” the 87-year-old great-grandmother said. “If I’m 90, I’ll still be doing this.”
Giancola’s rambling Lexington Street house is a landmark for generations of families who show up to see hundreds of Santas, Nativity scenes, plastic snowmen, red-and-green elves — all lit up by thousands upon thousands of holiday lights. The first floor of Giancola’s century-old, three-family house is covered floor-to-ceiling with Christmas décor, dancing angels, mechanical Santa models, ribbons, tinsel, bows and seemingly endless strands of garland.
To get the full tour inside, bring along some nonperishable food donations. Giancola runs an open house for five nights every December to benefit the Prudence Crandall shelter and the local Salvation Army, filling cartons with canned soups, pastas, cereals, paper towels, cleaning supplies and similar items.
She’s lived in the house across from the New Britain Museum of American Art for more than a half century, and recalls that she decorated all the first-floor rooms every year. In 1978, she started the open house and has kept it up ever since. It’s been the topic of a New York Times feature and TV news reports over the years, but Giancola still frets about the chances of few people — and fewer donations.
“The children’s eyes go everywhere. The grandparents are almost crying with joy,” she said. “People come through and say ‘My parents brought me when I was little’ and now they’re bringing their own children.”
Giancola’s children and grandchildren pitch in decorating the more difficult-to-reach spots, but she figures she still does about 90 percent of the work herself.
“I’m up and down ladders all days,” she said, “and this year I didn’t decorate the second bathroom. I
got lazy.”
I struggled with what to say… what DO you say when you know this is the last of your conversations with this beloved person, this beautiful soul who loved you unconditionally, has given you so much to cherish. What do you want to leave with that person as they begin the journey to where ever we go when we die…. what do you want to take away?….
This year I’m reading so many blog posts, FB posts and articles that indicate many people feel the holiday season is one big colossal stress inducing hassle. A frequent complaint is – having a hard time getting into the spirit of things. Ah, the key right there… It’s the SPIRIT OF THINGS that should be foremost in our hearts and minds, not the spending of money we may not have, the headache of planning around difficult family issues and logistics, the stress of trying to get it all done. Commercialism puts a damper on the whole thing, too.
There are ways to simplify- If the annual big family gathering and meal at your house has you spinning out of control, make it a potluck – the menu is varied and interesting, no one is responsible for an entire meal, and everyone feels like they’ve contributed, bringing their one prized dish to share. Or, scale down the crowd… invite just a handful of family or friends and relax.
Regarding gift giving, a small thoughtful gift holds just as much meaning, if not more, than a more elaborate and expensive item you could buy at a store. Have you taken a photo that a particular person would cherish? Frame it and wrap it. They’ll cherish it always and it doesn’t break the bank. Are you a baker? Make a batch of that favorite cookie Aunt Margaret used to have at the holiday table, tie the recipe onto the bow. Awesome for family recipes handed down to other family members. If only my grandmother were still alive, I’d ask her for that unbelievably delicious cream puff popover recipe. I’ve never had them so good since.
Missing a loved one who is now departed? Volunteer for an organization you know they would approve of, or make a donation of any size in their name. It’s a way of honoring them that you can feel good about and you are contributing to the world in a positive way. That always feels good.
No time for all this nonsense? Then cut yourself some slack and just let it be. There are many little things you can do to find the “Spirit of the holidays”… Take a walk through a “Christmas lit” neighborhood on a snowy night- hear the silence and the sound your footsteps make in the snow. On Christmas Eve, imagine all the excitement the children feel as they drift off to sleep, one eye open should they hear the sound of hoofbeats on the roof. Don’t be so hurried that you can’t smile at the checkout clerk at the grocery store and wish him/her a happy holiday. Do the same to anyone you lock eyes with as you walk out to your car. It’s amazing, what a small and brief encounter like this can do for the soul.
I don’t talk about religion here, only because I’m not religious in an organized or specific sense of the word, although I was raised a Catholic. I do believe I’m a spiritual person, and some say that’s a cop out. I find my religion in being kind whenever possible and helping out where I can in different ways. Being a part of solutions, instead of adding to problems. I’ve asked myself frequently… do I add to this world in any way to make it a better place, or am I always taking? The holidays bring this reflection into sharper focus for me and right now I’m pleased with my progress. That, I’m finding, is a gift.
Speaking of gifts, my friend Tim has given me a detailed description of his mother Loraine’s Sand Tart Christmas Cookie recipe. He gave our family a sampling of them last year and words fail me in describing just how buttery-sugary-mouthwatering delicious these cookies are. I’d never heard of sand tarts until that sampling of his family tradition cookies, I’ll let you know how they turn out under Tim’s carefully guided directions. This recipe is a gift I will always treasure –
This ceramic basket was made by my Aunt V…
