These are Sheep.

And a friend in the field sent me the picture - cause when something amazing happens in the environmental sector - there is a ripple effect.

These are big-horn sheep who are being moved to an area, where just 3 years ago the natural habitat was too degraded to support them - their herd.

But, the land was restored to the point where it could naturally sustain the herd.

And so, ewe see, the sheep arrived via air mail...

The end.

Why are you throwing snow on my head?

Sometimes I wonder what Drake would say if he could talk.

Today I think he would have asked me why I was throwing shovels-full of snow at him.

I can't help but be sad about where he might have been this time last year. As I deck the halls, the walls, the windows, doors, his crate... I wonder if he was out in the frosty wide open. Struggling to stay alive. Or maybe he was in a mansion in Nashville. With little kids swinging from his floppy ears. I will never know. But now he's here. unamused by being buried in snow, getting it caught in his paws, me trying to get him to eat it.

There are just some things I can't do for him. "Butter will have to teach you how to play in the snow" I told him.

But can she teach him this?

And the floor shook beneath us.

A Sister.
A Sister-in-Law.
A Cousin.
A Might-As-Well-Be-My-Cousin.
A Best Friend.
And Me.

Snugged in to a NYC Winery to listen to never-heard-before-tunes.
A sweet soothing voice. An introvert, we mused. We laughed about his promise of "hits".
And that Sarah would marry him.
Specially crafted wines. And lack of kinder appropriate tunes.

A very memorable way to spend an otherwise cold, cold Friday eve.

And every time the subway ran under the winery - it shook the floors.

And I'll always remember it. All of it.
Including the giant Xmas trees awaiting the perfect SoHo lofts.

And how they smelled in the crisp air.

And then home by 3 to give way to sleep and dreams of brand new sets of wings.

Good to Each Other. When I'm Gone.

Sometimes I wonder if my children will be good to each other when I'm gone.

You know, when I'm not here to keep the peace?

Because sometimes a peacemaker is necessary.

Actually, a peacemaker was needed about 2 dozen times today. But who's counting?


Tonight and twice, I was reassured that they will be. (Good to each other when I'm gone.)

The first time I re-tucked Nonie into bed I made her cozy in a sea of flannel bedding with skiers on it. I kissed her forehead, complemented the ornament she hung on the tiny Xmas tree in their room and told her I loved her. Twice.

"Mommy kiss Dety", she ordered before I tiptoed out of the room.

So I did. For a second time this evening, I found his smooth forehead tucked in to his bed - asleep for a good 15 minutes already. And I kissed it - nice and loud so that Ms. Bossy would know I obeyed her.

******

But the second time she needed to be re-tucked in (do the math, this is her third time being kissed goodnight - darn those late-day naps) - I found each of her sleeping pals, tucked them in cozy under the hand-knit blankets and smooched her on her forehead.

We rubbed noses for a while and I tried to find her big blue eyes in the glow of their Xmas tree lights but I couldn't.

So I giggled. And got up to leave.

Halfway to the door I heard it again.

"Mommy kiss Dety", she reminded.

So I went to Decky's bed, found his smooth forehead and smooched it again.

******

There is a bond between my children that I get glimpses of but do not fully comprehend.
I guess that's to be expected, because the bond hasn't fully established itself.

Many days, all I hope for is that my children will be good to each other when I'm gone.

And tonight. And Twice. I was given a glimmer of how it will be.

And it looked comforting and good. And full of love.

ME.

I think I suffer from mild to severe Christmas light decoration jealousy.
And this is only the beginning of the list of things that just aren't right about this week.

A co-worker handed me a piece of paper and told me to do with it "what the spirit guided me to".
It was a piece of paper. A simple newsletter.
What the spirit guided me to?
I can't get it out of my mind.
The spirit?
Of course, yes, I know what she means.
And of course, yes, I do believe in her message.
But I get so caught up. In life. Stinking, sometimes. Especially the week after a vacation in a room of 24 six year olds who seem to be on some personal quest to say my name as many times as they can without going hoarse. They never do seem to go hoarse. But it's a mystery to me how that is.
Oh anyway, I just take it all so personally. Where have a failed the child who opened up the bottle of glue and poured it all over the desk on Wednesday morning? How have I misled him? No worry that his father is in jail. It is my shortcoming that has gotten him to this point.
At would point should I have explicitly told those boys that they shouldn't punch a classmate in the stomach at recess? And the boy that got punched? When did I show him what putting up your middle finger means?

I get so self-centered. So wrapped up in me-ness. I assume I am the epicenter of all these actions and the roots behind them. But it is hard to separate the time, effort and money I put into making my room happen at all from the actions they choose while they are with me. They are with me for more waking hours a week than they are with their own families. Of course I take it personally.
But like I've said so many times before, and then forget once the words slip off the keyboard, I cannot think I am in this alone.
I am not in this alone.
Something is guiding me through it. 

And it's not all bad. There are silver linings, I just have to look harder for them.

Like... "Ms. H" (ugh) "here's you in your wedding dress"...

And, well, I still got my looks.

Charades

(Or as I like to say Sha Rods, sometimes it's fun to put the emPHAsis on the wrong syALLble.)

Family traditions. Some are traditional, say our (non)secret santa tradition.

Some should remain within the family and not be shared. (perhaps the quarter game of ourleen's future in-laws).

Then there are the ones that some families are great at and enjoy.

And others should not do.

Charades is one we are not so great at.

We are not actors.

We try, but it is pretty pathetic.

Fun? Yes... but a little sad.

And as I was thinking of this I have a vivid memory of an MV night, when another set of in-laws started a rousing game of charades.

And papa got this to act out:

To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.

Even the best actor on his best day would struggle with this.

Poor papa.

I am not sure what he came up with. But I'm sure it wasn't pretty.

And I know I will never forget the name of that movie.

Here's to the holidays and all traditions, new and old.

This one I learned at the first Thanksgiving I spent with my in-laws.

A toast to the President.

Happy Holidays.

'Tis the Season....

'Tis the season....

when I take stock of what I have

been given.

And I think

Oh!

WOW!

(ALL FOR ME?)

THANKS!

***

It is also the time of year when I wrap the outside of Happy House in Christmas.

And that comes with its own set of Oh! WOW! moments.

Like, the other night I was on a step ladder hanging from the front tree where we've hung about 1,000 strands of white lights and 35 gold ball christmas ornaments.

I bent down the tippy top branch and hooked a gold ball to it. Yes! (I thought) I got a ball on the very top branch!!! (don't even ask me why this would be important to me. it just is).

Well, about 10 seconds later I heard the ball bounce off the roof of a neighbor's car - a good 30 yards down the road!!!

I'd launched that sucker right through the air and I nearly fell off the ladder with laughter because of it.

I mean, if anyone saw these antics they'd have me arrested - and the hubby would have dragged me inside telling me my decorating for the day was doneski.

Thank God this all happened in the cover of dark.

'Tis the Season.