Anny Cook's Blog, page 72

Let There Be Peace on Earth

The first time I heard this song was at my oldest daughter's Christmas pageant the year she was in fourth grade. The elementary school had no place big enough to hold the pageant so it was held in the high school auditorium. The program was creative and joyous and enjoyed by all the parents and families.

Near the end of the evening, teachers dressed as reindeer took the stage with a rolicking skit and song. As I was enjoying it, awareness of a shuffle and hiss crept in and I realized that the children were silently lining the walls around the auditorium.

The lights went out. A deep silence filled the huge room.

And then one young voice soared in the darkness. "Let there be peace on earth..." A tiny light flicked on lighting her face.

A few more voices joined in...just a few from points all around us. "And let it begin with me."

More lights. More voices until we were ringed in light and earnest small voices singing about peace on earth. I think about that song often. I think about how we still don't understand the underlying truth of the words..."let it begin with me" for peace does not begin with warriors. Peace is protected by warriors when all else has failed. Peace begins with each of us.

Most people believe that peace is an absence of war. That isn't true. Peace is an absence of conflict. And true peace will not arrive until we as humans refuse to countenance abuse, intolerance, genocide, greed, and famine. As long as we turn away from the less fortunate ignoring the needs of the many in favor of the wants of the few, there will be no peace on earth.

"Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me..."

anny
©2006 Anny Cook[image error]

Aging Christmas

It's a Holly, Jolly Christmas...or is it? As I sat knitting a gift this afternoon, I considered all the aspects of celebrating the holidays as a senior citizen. I'm somewhat computer literate so I spend a bit of time on the Internet.

Conversations about Christmas shopping and baking and decorating leave me wondering about the relevance of those holiday traditions--especially for the elders. Think about it.

If an elder is alone (like the house hunk and I) and on a restricted diet (like the house hunk and I) then what point is there to baking six dozen cookies? Or cakes? Or...whatever? Most of that stuff is on the forbidden list so, baking as a holiday tradition has ceased.

Shopping was an early casualty to living five hours to three days travel away from the rest of the family. Everyone receives gift cards in their annual Christmas card.There really is no point in buying something, packing it, mailing it, paying postage(!), when I can save the postage and send it directly to the gift recipient. See how that works?

Truthfully, our gift giving is also limited by dwindling income and living on retirement/Social Security. It's a good thing presents aren't a major part of my family's Christmas expectations.

As for decorations--well, let's just admit we don't bend as well as we used to. The tree branches close to the floor are a little barer each year. The wreathes and hangings that are at eye level are getting a more strenuous workout, while the tinsel and ornaments that normally hang from the ceiling remain in the box. Ladders aren't recommended for folks with bad hips and knees...or those who use walkers.

Do I sound like I'm having a pity party? Well, not exactly. But I do want to make a point. In the rush and hustle and bustle don't forget those elders around you who might be alone. They may not be physically able to decorate their living spaces. Maybe they'd like a helping hand to hang a wreathe on the door--and take it back down after the holiday. It might be they'd really enjoy a small tin of cookies or fudge. You know, one of those really small tins? One they could put in the refrigerator and sneak out for a nibble or two?

And if you're going to the church Christmas pageant, you might want to consider asking if they would like to go too. As you get older, it's more difficult to get around, especially in the evening.

How about inviting them for Christmas dinner? I live way too far from my folks to fix them dinner. I call down blessings every holiday on the friends and neighbors who live nearby and make sure they invite them to share their meal.

The holidays are a lonely time. Many of our elders suffer depression more this time of year than any other. If your family becomes involved with including an elder in your celebration, your family will likely receive an unexpected blessing in return. Our elders have wonderful experience and knowledge to share with us, if only we let them know we're interested.

Take an elder to Christmas!

anny[image error]

What is Christmas?

Every year I post the Christmas memories and thoughts I've written over the years. This is a post I like to begin the season with...


© Anny Cook 2007

As I sat at the computer waiting for inspiration to appear, I thought about what Christmas means. Is it shopping? Is it the story of the Christ Child? Is it the presents under the tree on Christmas morning? Christmas Carols?For each person different things are the true essence of Christmas. For some, if they are not with their families, then it isn't Christmas. For others, certain decorations are the true meaning of Christmas.

As for me, I'm not sure what it is exactly that makes it Christmas. I have spent Christmases surrounded by a vast family and friends. I have spent Christmas alone. There was more than a Christmas or two that was tinged with grief and sadness and others that were filled with joy. Both sides of the coin had their place because our lives are not static. We are constantly moving on, constantly dealing with changes in our lives.

Traditions help us stay grounded as life rushes past but we must not be so buried in tradition that we are lost when the traditions fade away. We must be open to establishing new traditions to take their place. Sometimes a new tradition begins with a whimper. Sometimes with a bang. Some are born of desperation.

One Christmas we were so broke I wasn't sure where we would find the money for the yearly stuffed animal from Santa. My friend called to let me know that a local pharmacy had all their teddy bears on clearance. We drove down to the store, found four different ones and for the princely sum of six dollars, Santa would be making a house call at our place Christmas Eve. They were plain. Stone cold plain, but my friend rummaged through her sewing supplies and located enough fancy ribbon to outfit each bear with a jaunty bow.
And then I had the notion to issue a "gift certificate" to each of the kids. I designed them and printed them out on an old dot matrix printer and colored them with colored pencils. Each one was for a specific sum to be payable when we received our income tax refund. Looking back now, I wonder what my kids really thought about receiving a colored promissory note. But I give them a lot of credit. They acted quite excited about it.
Income tax time finally arrived and we spent hours at the stores spending their gift certificates. The next Christmas rolled around much too soon. Things weren't a whole lot better. With a faint heart I asked them what they wanted for Christmas. Unanimously, they all declared that they wanted the gift certificates again. And so a tradition was born. For many years after that, we had the Cook family gift certificates.

Heh. I was just ahead of the curve as usual. Now we do gift cards. And they're still excited.In the last five years, we've had more of a turnover in traditions than at any other time in the past. One Christmas we witnessed the birth of a grandchild. Another Christmas Eve I brought my husband home from the hospital after surgery. Most years we've done minimal decorating due to various circumstances.

Three years ago I completed seventeen calligraphy pieces, matted and framed, and mailed them out. They were all 11 X 14 and miracle of miracles they all arrived safely. Two years ago I made memory books for my kids. They were a hodge-podge of pictures, short stories, recipes, and memories. The kids call them The Christmas Book and they hold a place of honor in their homes.

New traditions. Old traditions. They stretch back through the years providing the tapestry of Christmas past and present. Perhaps that is the meaning of Christmas... the wonderful tapestry of memories and traditions that hold us together through the good times and bad.
Anny[image error]

A Birthday and A Book

Forty one years ago I was in labor with my second child. It was worth every minute! Today's he far away, working to deliver mail and packages. And I miss him. Happy Birthday, Tony!

Today is also the release of my holiday story, Yule Be Ours! I hope you'll click on the book cover to check it out! I love this book cover--it's so cheery and happy! So is the story.

And finally, tomorrow I'll start posting my annual Christmas memories series. Many of you are familiar with them, some aren't. I was considering not posting them this year, but after an informal survey, decided to post after all. So check in often from tomorrow through Christmas!

anny[image error]

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Christmas! The scent of pine and cinnamon apples. The twinkle of colored lights. The strains of the familiar carols. Snow glistening on the meadow...

Halt! Rewind. Over the last few days as I tip-toed around the web, mostly what I've read about is how stressful the holidays are...and how tired people are feeling. There's dread and irritation instead of joy and anticipation. What happened?

You say there's no money this year? I'll share something with you. In the last sixty-two years, I don't recall a single year--not one--where money was plentiful. Unlike some people, we didn't have credit cards. Still don't. If we don't have the money in the bank...then we don't have it. That never stopped Christmas from arriving at our house. Some years there were more gifts than others. Some years our dinner was courtesy of the local food pantry (and thank God they were there!) But that isn't what Christmas is about, anyway.

When I was a girl, Christmas centered around the church and the religious celebration. I think because the focus was on giving rather than getting, the celebrations were very different.

Christmas was going Christmas caroling with friends and family. We carried lanterns (and then as I grew older, flashlights) and stopped every few houses as we walked, sang two or three carols and moved on. Most of the time, people came outside to listen. Sometimes they joined in the singing. Once in a while they offered us hot chocolate or cookies.

Christmas was baking cookies with the entire family. The kids carefully cut them out with the special Christmas cutters and decorated them with colored sugar. When they were cool, they were boxed up and wrapped so the kids could deliver them to friends and neighbors along with that year's Christmas card.

Christmas was decorating the tree. When the kids were born, we started a tradition of adding a new ornament for each of them every year. They were dated with a marker. And then, the year they left home, their ornaments went along with them so they'd have something familiar for their personal celebration. With four kids, there were a lot of ornaments by the time they left home. We always found a place for them on the tree. And every ornament had a story.

When the grandchildren came along, we continued the tradition. Some years our grandchildren were actually living with us when Christmas rolled around. And decorating the tree was still part of the tradition.

Arranging the Nativity in a place of honor was always a tradition. So much so, that the year my daughter's family lived with us, the grandkids gave up one of "their" tables so we'd have a place to put it. And then once it was all arranged, it was time to read the Christmas story directly from the source...Luke 2:1-20. For several years, I recited that from memory as my part in the Christmas play at church.

Christmas is about memories. And celebration. And giving. I think we've forgotten that in the gimme, gimme world created by the media and retail world. There's nothing wrong with receiving gifts. But frankly, how much stuff do we need? I don't remember the last time I received more than two or three gifts. Total. Most of them were from the Dollar Store. Because that's what the givers could afford. I still have them because it really is the thought that counts.

Our entire Christmas Gift budget for sixteen people is two hundred and fifty dollars. Most of that will be used to purchase gift cards because my children and parents live in other states. The hunk and I don't exchange gifts at all. Once a year--usually in the spring or fall--we'll choose to purchase something we especially desire and we'll call it our Christmas and anniversary gift to each other.

Instead of worrying about what we're getting, why not teach our children the true spirit of Christmas. Propose that they give the equivalent of one of their gifts to someone who isn't going to have a Christmas. Nope, I'm not advocating that parents toss more money on the debt pile by buying additional toys. Let your children make a conscious decision to forfeit one of their gifts so someone else will have something to open Christmas morning. Many kids have far more stuff than they can possibly play with already. There are innumerable places from churches to Toys for Tots that would gladly take your child's donation.

I suspect the true reason so many people are out of sorts and not feeling the Christmas spirit is because they've forgotten that shopping really isn't the reason for the season.

anny[image error]

New Story!

Yep. On December 1st, I'll have a new story out. I love this cover. She's so pretty--and happy. What's this story about?

Here's the blurb: When Dashylla's masters abandon her in Silver Rock, to be awarded new masters, she makes a fervent Yule-Cris wish for two men who will love her passionately as she yearns to be loved. Nicodemus and Myles arrive in time to make all her wishes come true.

So, what's this about masters and Yule-Cris? On the planet Hypectil, there aren't very many women. The government, in the interest of peace and prosperity, has passed legislation where women are awarded to stable groups of men. Right before Yule-Cris, Dashylla's men prove they aren't quite as stable as they appeared. They abandon her in the tiny village of Silver Rock.

But on Yule-Cris Eve, Nicodemus and Myles show up, just in the nick of time, to rescue her. And Myles and Nic plan to make her life a Happily Ever After.


Would you like to know more?


I'll post the link first thing on December 1st!


anny[image error]

Exploding Turkey

One year, I think it was 1984, we moved into a new house the day before Thanksgiving. This was after spending four weeks in a hotel with four kids, three of them teenagers. It was a move from Houston, Texas to upstate New York. The kids were out of school for that four weeks because we didn't have an "official" address.

So finally, we moved in on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. That year it was also my birthday. The next morning when we woke up we had no water because the pipes were frozen. Nothing was unpacked, but we had the presence of mind to pick up several aluminum roasting pans. For the turkey, we doubled two pans and plopped the turkey in the oven while we rousted out the necessities from the jumble of boxes that were piled high in the living room and dining room.

It wasn't the first time I had moved. Actually, it was move number forty. So the next morning chaos was not something new. There were the usual shouts of "Mom, where is...?" and the usual jockeying for space and attention. My husband was trying to figure out why we had hot water in the toilet. Just the little things in life.

When is was time to take the turkey out, the pan collapsed, burning my husband's hands. He tossed it on the top of the stove and it exploded. In a instant we had turkey, dressing, and broth everywhere...on the ceiling, on the walls and counters, down in the innards of the brand new stove...on the floor. Everywhere.

The househunk took the stove apart and carried it outside to wash the worst of it off with the hose in the yard. The boys got in an argument and my younger son "ran away". I remember kneeling on the floor trying to mop up that greasy mess and crying, "I want to go home!"

And my husband leaned down and calmly pointed out, "We are home."

Heh. Well, the runaway came home. My daughters helped set the table and my sons helped wash walls and counters. Amazingly, we sat down to dinner, thankful to be in a home instead of that hotel. And every year, we retell the story of the exploding turkey dinner.

After all, it was way better than the fire in the furnace on Christmas Day. Trust me on this.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving Day!

anny[image error]

Sixty-Two

Sixty-two years ago, I was born in Arizona. Wow, that went fast. I feel I should have something profound to say--and perhaps that's it. Life goes by fast.

Don't spend time wishing it away. We spend our time in so many ways and then look up and years have disappeared. What happened?

I was born at the tail-end of the forties, married in the late sixties at the height of the Vietnam War, graduated from college finally in the late eighties (at forty!) and suddenly find myself an official old lady in the twenty-first century.

In high school, I read 1984 for extra credit--back when 1984 seemed a very long time off. If I had ever put my mind to imagining the world we live in, I would never have envisioned the way computers and technology have changed our lives.

What have I learned?

Life whizzes by. Wear the good underwear instead of saving it for a special day. Use the fancy dishes in the middle of the week. Climb that mountain while you can. Dance on the beach under the moonlight. Stay up to watch the dawn. Sing with your kids while you watch the sunset. Go out in the country at night where you can see the glory of the Milky Way. Hold hands with your spouse. Pray daily.

anny[image error]

Coffee Hound

I am not a coffee connoisseur. I know what I like, but I'm not a snob about coffee. I'm not a latte person, either. Coffee, cream and sweetener, and I'm good to go.

There are some places I refuse to buy coffee because I can't fix it exactly like I want it. Drive-thru coffee is far too hot. I don't want to buy coffee that I can't drink for thirty minutes until it cools down enough so I don't burn my mouth.

Flavors? Meh. Those are dessert coffees for the evening. For breakfast, give me plain, unadorned coffee. That first shot of caffeine for the day doesn't need to be gussied up.

Whipped? Cold? Blech. I'm sure my age is showing, but for me, coffee will always be a beverage meant to consumed hot. That heat rushing down the throat to warm the chest. That's part of the experience of drinking coffee. Cold coffee just doesn't convey the same sensation.

I'm a terrible coffee maker. Yes, yes, I know. Measure it in the pot and turn it on. How difficult can it be? Well. When I was a young woman, the hunk and I were friends with another couple, Dorian and Orlando. Orlando was born in Columbia (yes, South America) and he declared my coffee couldn't possibly be that bad.

The next time they came over for the evening, I made coffee...while he watched and coached me. I did everything exactly how he told me. We stood at the kitchen counter while the coffeemaker did its thing.

Finally, it was done. He poured a cup. And took a hearty gulp.

And began to cough and wheeze. "It's like rocket fuel," he gasped.

And that was the last time I was asked to make the coffee.

anny[image error]

Black Thursday

The talk on Twitter and FacebookIs usually about writing or Lolcats or nook.But this week the friends are ready to fight--Seems some stores are opening before midnight!In fact (though it's really not right)They're open for business, they sayNot Friday, but Thursday--Thanksgiving Day!
The chorus of protest is a swelling songWe must really do something--This is just wrong!
My solution is simple. Why wait in line?Why not wander in at seven or eight or nine?Black Friday is a sad symptom of greed.How many presents do we really need?
In the past we sang carols and put up the tree.There were sparkling bright lights
and a Nativity. The kids helped make presents for
Mommy and Dad.Oh, they were so careful to never be bad.
Each day pretty Christmas cards arrived
in the mail with greetings and pictures and that year's tale.There were whispers and guessing what was under the tree.Sometimes there was shaking--"Oh, can I see?"
Heh. Do you remember how it was back then?We always got one toy and candy in a tinAnd new underwear and warm socks in a gaily wrapped box.
The thing about Christmas and
Thanksgiving DayIt's a time for family to find a way to say "I'm here to spend time together because I love you. Nope, it's not money. It's not presents--
it's you."
© Anny Cook 2011

[image error]