New Year's Eve

This morning I visited my acupuncturist. I told her I wanted an immediate cure for my cold and congestion.

No pressure there, she said, laughing at me. I like to ask for miracles.

She put 14 needles in me, including some in my sinuses. Those hurt.

My pulses (there are I think nine different pulses in Chinese medicine, one on each arm. This isn't the traditional pulse as in western medicine.) were practically non-existent, she said.

They weren't much better after the acupuncture, which is unusual for me. Usually after I've had a treatment my pulses turn completely around. That was not the case today.

After she removed the needles, she used gua sha, which is "a traditional healing technique, in which a practitioner applies repeated pressurized strokes over lubricated skin using a round-edged instrument. Widely used in China and Indonesia, Gua sha is Chinese for "to scrape for cholera. The application of the strokes causes small red or purple spots to appear on the skin; these fade after two or three days. The technique is most commonly used to treat fever, heat exhaustion, asthma, muscle and tendon injuries, poor blood circulation, headaches, and other minor problems."

That hurt a little, too.

Then she went for the moxibustion. Moxi is "an analgesic technique in which moxa, a flammable substance derived from the leaves of wormwood plants, is ignited on the skin. The technique is intended to warm regions of the body, as well as stimulating blood circulation and energy toward acupuncture points."

Then she did some chi stimulation with her hands, which involved a type of massage on various meridians to move the energy around.

When I left she handed me a small bag of Chinese herbs to take three times a day until my congestion clears up.

I can't say that I feel any better yet but sometimes Chinese medicine takes 24 to 48 hours with me. I seem to be a slow starter or something. So I have my fingers crossed for a beautiful congestion-free morning.

After the acupuncture, I took a trip to Tanglewood Mall so I could buy office supplies at Staples. I rarely go to Tanglewood but I thought I'd miss the Valley View Mall traffic since I was out that way anyhow.

While I was writing my check in Staples, I realized my check numbers were askew. Upon my return home, I tried to figure out where I had messed up. Now I am afraid I might have sent a voided check as payment to one of my credit card companies, instead of re-writing the check as I had intended.

If that is the case, I wonder what they'll do when they open that up?

Wall-E

I received the movie Wall-E for Christmas.

We watched it Saturday night.

The movie is, on the surface, a story about a robotic trash compactor that falls in love with another robot when it visits from space. He follows her back to her ship. After some adventures, romance ensues.

However, this movie is full of messages.

There is the "humans are polluting the earth and making it unfit for habitation" message.

And the "humans do nothing but stuff their faces and sit on their fat asses" message."

Also the "corporations are taking over the world and they aren't doing a very good job of taking care of much of anything" message.

And "the smallest person (or robot, in this case) can make a difference" message.

The movie's premise is that B&L Corporation has taken over everything. The world becomes so polluted thanks to the consumer culture that there is nothing left to do but build space ships and leave robot trash compactors to take care of the planet. The idea was to be gone for five years, at which point the place would be cleaned up and inhabitable again.

That didn't happen, and mankind roams around in space for 700 years hoping the planet will repair itself, I guess. The ship's captain sends out probes to earth every now and again hoping for signs of plant life, even though everyone has forgotten what a plant is.

Wall-E is one of the last working robot trash compactors, if not the last one. Eve comes from space; she's a probe looking for a plant.

Wall-E has developed into more than a robot. He likes to watch Hello Dolly and collect stuff, including parts with which to repair himself. I suppose 700 years could do that to a trash compactor.

This movie received good reviews and made Pixar a lot of money.

I couldn't get past all of the "messages" to enjoy the film. I generally like apocalyptic movies - some of my favorites are Waterworld, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, The Postman, etc., and some of my favorite books (1984; Alas, Babylon) deal with the topic.

But humanity was portrayed in such a ghastly manner that I really didn't care if they came back to earth or not. Nor did I care much about Wall-E. I know I was supposed to but I didn't, mostly, I think, because the messages about the world and humanity so overshadowed the little robot that I could hardly see him for the larger back story.

I don't disagree with any of the main messages of the film, but I was dismayed that those messages took center stage. I felt like I was being beaten over the head with them.

Maybe I need to watch it again because I must have missed something crucial to the film since it received such good reviews. Perhaps I shall blame it on my cold.


*In the commentary section on Wikepedia, linked to above, there are notes about others who took issue with the film, many for different reasons than what I've cited.*

The way it goes

Monday a week ago, December 21, I had my work for the newspaper completed.

I decided to clean my home office. I am not a very good secretary when it comes to my own work (although I used to be a very good legal secretary in another life). I pile stuff and don't file it. After a while it turns into a mess.

At 9:30 a.m. I began filing, cleaning and putting away. I had to stop at noon to go to Roanoke. When I returned, I went back to cleaning.

I apparently am not a very good maid, either. I won't say how large the dust bunnies were beneath the book case but let's just say "bunnies" is a good description for those nasty piles of cobwebs and grayish dirt. Actually "hare" might be a better word; I think that is a larger animal. Or maybe dust groundhogs.

Whatever they were, I had them all vacuumed up by the time I ended the cleaning festival, which was around 9:45 p.m.

The next day I woke with the sniffles. Now this could have been allergies from dusting or it could have been the cold virus my husband had picked up the Friday before. In any event, I wanted no part of it.

That meant I had to do the cooking and host a party while not feeling 100 percent. I washed my hands so much while I was baking that I chapped them. I did not want to spread germs.

I was not at my best when I had family over Christmas Eve, but aside from being quieter than normal I don't think anyone noticed.

Christmas Day found me very unhappy indeed as the sniffles turned into a full-blown state of congestion. I even had to leave the Christmas Day celebrations at the in-laws early so I could go to bed.

I feared I would pass it along as a gift to the relatives, too, but so far no one else is sick. I guess if they haven't caught it by now they probably won't.

Friday the miserable congestion moved down into my chest, and I have been coughing ever since.

My brother-in-law brought me whisky yesterday, something called Rock & Rye. He advised me to mix a little with honey and heat it in a cup.

I added lemon to that combination. I don't drink alcohol so I used only two "capfuls" of whisky to a mug of hot water, lemon and honey.

While I am still not well I can honestly say it worked better than the Robitussin I was taking.

I don't know if that works with just any whisky or just with Rock & Rye, but I won't hesitate to try it again.

I see my acupuncturist on Wednesday; I know she'll be able to push the rest of this cold/allergy right on out of me.

Books: The Hollow Kingdom

The Hollow Kingdom
By Clare B. Dunkle
Copyright 2003
230 pages

I received this book as a Christmas present. It is the first of a trilogy called the Hollow Hills trilogy.

This is essentially a young adult book along the lines of Tamara Pierce.

Kate is a young English orphan. She and her sister Emily have been uprooted and taken to live at Hollow Hills, the maternal family estate. Mr. Roberts, her guardian, is an idiot and jerk. He leaves the girls with two old great aunts.

After they have been there a few months, Kate realizes someone is watching her all the time. Then during an outing, she and Emily get lost. They come upon a gypsy caravan and a mysterious man in a black cloak and hood takes them home.

He turns out to be the goblin king. He is a scary dude. And he wants Kate for his wife.

Kate wants no part of this. Of course the adults do not believe her when she tells them she is in danger; in fact her idiot guardian actually tries to hurry her headlong into danger.

He tries to convince a psychiatrist that Kate needs to go to an asylum, but Kate convinces the psychiatrist otherwise. So Mr. Roberts tells Kate that Emily has vanished in hopes she will tell the psychiatrist about the goblins.

Instead, Kate, believing the goblins have kidnapped Emily, goes to the goblin king herself and offers herself in trade for Emily. Only it turns out Mr. Roberts himself had kidnapped Emily and had her tied up in the basement.

I enjoyed this read and I will look for the second and third installments of the trilogy. I enjoyed the world and the pace of the book was great.

4 stars

XMas Images 2008

My newest cousin, Jonathan, age 11 mos. He is my first cousin once removed (I think). (My first cousin's son.)


It is an annual Christmas Eve tradition that my aunt come to see me. This year lots of family came: my cousin Matthew, and his wife, Gina, and their daughter, Madison, my uncle Jerry, who was in from Texas, my cousin Ben and his significant other, Nicole, and their son Jonathan. We played guitar and had lots of food and fellowship.



My Uncle Jerry is in the middle of the couch. He is one year younger than I am and was born on my first birthday. I doubt that is something you find in many families.



My first cousin once-removed, Madison, performed a dance for us all. Her mom, Gina, is behind her watching.


Christmas Day found me at my mother-in-law's house where we celebrated Christmas with my husband's side of the family. My nephews, Christopher and Emory and my brother-in-law, Gary, opened presents on one side of the room.



My sister-in-law, Jennifer, took a picture of me taking a picture of her and my mother-in-law, Eunice.



Christmas Eve night, my brother and his family stopped by for a very nice visit. My niece, who is seven, said she wanted a pink hunting gun from Santa. And something called a Biscuit, whatever that is.



This is my in-laws tree before we tore into the presents.



This is my tree.

I hope everyone had a very happy holiday.

Blessed Holiday

Many blessings to my online friends during this most holy time. May the world and its bounty of joys be yours.

Peace to you all.

Merry Christmas!

Little Christmas Eve*

Dear Santa:

I know it's a little late for a letter, particularly one from an adult. But I thought I would just say "howdy" and see what you were up to.

As far as I know your reindeer have escaped unharmed during hunting season. If anyone shot a reindeer with a harness or a red nose I didn't hear about it, and I keep up with those things. So I expect your flight to be unhindered. I'll be watching on Norad.

I have noticed that a lot of people are having a hard time paying their heating bills this winter. I am hoping you can do something about that. This may actually be a good year for lumps of coal, so you might want to check the list several times and see if folks qualify for that particular heating fuel. Coal doesn't have the best reputation, though, so you might want to find another heat source. Maybe something new that burns clean? I know you can come up with something. It might be a good revenue source for you.

I would ask that anything you are thinking of for me be given to someone at an old folk's home, if they can use it. Those poor people need some attention. I fear for a society that can't take better care of its elderly.

Please leave heapfuls of commonsense for the folks who are in charge. That goes for government leaders as well as media people. The media isn't in charge but it is influential. I have noticed lately that many media stories are now noticing that "this CEO is making so much money." Why weren't they saying that 10 years ago? Please help us writers, reporters and journalists to find our courage and our inquisitiveness again. There is so much that needs investigating that there should be lots of work.

I ask for world peace and no world hunger and all of that every year, Dear Santa, but I suspect that is beyond you. So I am hoping that by narrowing my focus a little bit (see above), you'll be able to work it out easier. I am stopping at three things because it could be a really long list otherwise.

Anyway, Santa, I hope your flight goes swiftly and that your 24 hours of delivering presents is loads of fun. I'll leave the light on for you!

Sincerely,

Anita


*A friend tells me that Norwegians call the day before Christmas Eve "Little Christmas Eve." I love it!

Happy Solistice

It's the longest day of the year.
The night when darkness takes hold
and seems not to let go.

It's the darkest time of the year
and tomorrow the brightness will grow
as we move toward the light.

***

I was trying to think what to do to honor the Winter Solstice and I found a quiz on Peevish Pen called "What Druid Animal Are You?"

Here is my result:

Oh wise Salmon, tell me the tales of the deep! The salmon will travel hundreds of miles to return to it's place of birth, and so shall you... those miles may be emotional, however, since you need to rediscover the child within you. You hold such great power, but cannot express it fully until you are free from the emotional bonds that keep you from it. Rejuvenate your spirit, wise salmon, and rediscover the inner child that you hold back.

***

I was a little surprised at how profound this was.

***

Inspired, I moved to tarot.com, where I only do the free things because I don't waste money on such items.

Here is the I-ching hexagram result:

Sunday, December 21st, 2008 9:21am PST

Your Present Hexagram : Small Influences

A gentle wind gathers the clouds, but still, no rain. Softer influences predominate as the power of subtle forces grows. This is a time for smooth and friendly persuasion.

In the ebb and flow of any relationship, there are always "low tides" -- times when sweeping action is impossible or inappropriate, but when small matters can be attended to profitably, leading to bigger and better things later on. When the tide is rolling in, by all means, ride the wave; but when it is receding like it is now, focus on the little things.

When the times are such that you cannot do much to affect large matters, persuasion and subtle influence can prepare the way for strength in the future. Use your intuition to chart your long-term course, but avoid bold actions for the moment; they are unlikely to work. This is an excellent time to refine existing abilities or develop new talents.

***

7:45 a.m.

This morning I slept until 7:45 a.m.! Whoo.

That is late for me. I am almost always up by 6 a.m.

My husband rises at 5 a.m. Every morning. No matter what.

And we go to bed at 10 p.m. We're real partiers, we are.

The Break of Dawn, Christmas Eve

One of the Christmas myths that caught my fancy when I was very young was the legend of the talking animals.

At midnight on Christmas Eve, the animals in the barn would wake and speak. They would tell one another the story of the birth of Baby Jesus.
The donkey would say that because of his ancestor, Jesus was born in Bethlehem and not in the countryside.

The dog would say that his ancestor to protected them, keeping harm from Mary and Joseph.

The dove would say that her ancestor cooed the little baby to sleep.

The cow would say her ancestor offered milk to the wee child. And so on and so forth.

It was my fondest wish to hear this.

My parents did not spend Christmas Eve at home, generally, so neither of course did us children, my brother and I.

We went to the Webbs, a family who lives at the foot of Caldwell Mountain not far from where I grew up. These folks have been friends of my father’s for longer than I am old, and on Christmas Eve their house was full of loved ones.

The adults would pick guitars and sing carols while the young ones shrieked and chased each other up and down the stairs.

We were often joined by my aunt and uncle, who went with us for the singing, music and fun. My aunt, who is from Salem, tells me she has missed only one Christmas “in the country,” since 1970.

I remember a fireplace crackling merrily, the smell of chocolate chip cookies and the odoriferous wafting of the smell of cedar from the hand-hewn tree, fresh off the farm. There was lots of camaraderie and lots of noise.

Back at my house, I had a dog that I expected to speak at the appropriate hour, so my anxiety tended to grow as the evening wore on. Would we be home in time for me to hear the Christmas magic?

Generally speaking I think we were home by 11 p.m.

I, of course, was sent to bed almost immediately because Santa Claus was on his way and he would not stop for a little girl who did not go to bed.

Year after year I fell asleep before midnight. And finally, when I was almost too old to believe in myths anymore, I had the bright idea of taking the dog to bed with me and staying up to hear what he had to say.

I remember staring intently at Major, the white poodle, in the moonlight.

Waiting. And waiting.

The next thing I knew, my brother was shaking me. “Santa came! Get up!” he whispered.

And in the excitement of toys and presents around the tree, I forgot what I had been waiting for.

I remembered later in the day. I went to my mother with my complaint. “I don’t think the animals really talk,” I said, noting that there went another childhood fantasy out the window.

My mother hugged me. “Of course they do,” she said, pulling my hair from my face. “You fell asleep is all.”

I shook my head. “No Mama. I watched Major and he never said a thing.”

“Then you must have blinked.”

Surprised, I asked what she meant.

“Do you know exactly when night falls?” she said. “Or when the sun comes up and it is daylight? Can you catch those moments?”

I shook my head.

“If you miss the exact moment when it is midnight, that very second, then you can’t see the magic work,” she said.

“It’s just like catching the break of dawn.”

Fire Station #9

Last Friday night, December 12, the firefighters at Station 9 with Roanoke City Fire-EMS got together for a Christmas meal.

My husband is the one in the hat without a mustache.

I was told this get-together likely was a first for any station, because of course one of the three shifts always has to be on duty.

However, an off-duty crew from another station (I think it was Station 5 but I'm not 100 percent certain) stepped in to sub for the on-duty shift at Station 9 for a few hours so that the crews could all be together this one time.

Station 9, as I understand it, is slated for an early grave when Roanoke City builds a new station on that end of the city in the upcoming months. Things will not be the same for these guys, who are now working out of one of the older stations in the city.

My husband is a captain at Station 9 on B shift. The shifts work 24-hour days every other day with a four-day break. That means my husband goes in at 6:30 a.m. on Monday and comes home on Tuesday morning at 8 a.m., then he goes back to work on Wednesday morning and Friday morning and then he is off for four days (then he works Wednesday Friday Sunday, so his days are never the same. It can get confusing.).

I am very proud of my husband for reaching this pinnacle of his career. He has worked hard to reach this goal, which he stated to me before we married. "I want to make captain," he said when he took the job as a rookie firefighter.

He has been a firefighter for 25 years. It is a noble profession and I have been honored to watch the brotherhood of men who have served with my husband.

Over the years I have sent them many containers of fudge and cookies and cakes. Firemen have big appetites.

I cannot imagine what it takes to go into a burning building, to run a call on a vehicle accident when people have been torn in two, or how it feels to try to save someone who has had a heart attack. My husband, who is also an EMT, knows how all of that feels. I imagine sometimes it must be like a large lump weighing heavily on his heart.

Emergency services workers have a hard job. It's not one I could do. I salute them all for their efforts.

Holiday Lights

These light displays are all local to me. One is on Woodridge Road. The other is on Country Club Road, and the third is on Stoney Battery Road.

I shot these pictures Sunday night using a Nikon Coolpix 4600, which is a pocket camera I keep in the car for times when I don't have my other cameras with me. Some of the pictures are a little shaky because the car was running.

I'm Just Sayin'

On Wednesday, I paid $1.25 per gallon for gas at the Citgo at Exit 150.

If you think I did a little dance when I inserted the credit card, you would be right.

Last night when I passed the station, it was $1.39. Climbing before the holidays because people will be traveling, right?

I bet it hits $2.50 by Christmas.

I can't do this with my work. I can't say, oh, today I am going to charge you $X.XX for an article. Two days later it will be $Y.YY. And in three weeks it will cost twice as much.

I haven't noticed the food prices falling as gasoline dropped. If that was the real reason the prices were climbing, then shouldn't a loaf of bread cost less?

I'm no economics major but the economic situation has smelled bad to me for months (if not several years). It seems to me like this is a lot of price manipulation that has absolutely nothing to do with truly being what a product is worth and more about how much somebody can get out of you.

And in some cases we're not being charged enough for things that really are worth more than we're paying, although I am hard pressed to come up with what that might be since I like to hold on to my money as much as anyone else. Art work comes to mind. Painters and writers and creative types who tend to eek out a living. Farmers, too, maybe. I'm sure there are others.

It's messed up, is all I'm saying. It's kind of discouraging.

Christmas Meme

This came from RoanokeRNR, who invited people to take it so I can't say I stole it like the Grinch. I think this is more like Santa stealing into Sombre Town so the Burger Meister wouldn't catch him a la Santa Claus is Coming to Town...

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
I actually use both. This year I wrapped most things but there are other years when it all ends up in a gift bag.

2. Real tree or Artificial?
Artificial because I'm allergic to pine and cedar. One year we went through three real trees before we figured out we'd better just go to Sears and buy an artificial one.

3. When do you put up the tree?
Anytime after Thanksgiving. This year I had to wait until hunting season (rifle - deer) was over.

4. When do you take the tree down?
I have taken it down immediately after Christmas but generally try to wait until after January 1. There is some superstition about taking the tree down too early ... it brings bad luck or something ...

5. Do you like egg nog?
Not particularly. In this house we prefer boiled custard.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?
A wooden rocking chair.

7. Hardest person to buy for?
My in-laws both tie for first place. I never know what to get either one of them.

8. Easiest person to buy for?
My husband. I generally know what to get him.

9. Do you have a nativity scene?
Yes.

10. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards?
Both. I mail out a lot of cards and I also send email cards to a few people, mostly people I only know via the internet.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
A vacuum. We needed a vacuum but it wasn't a very good thing to receive for Christmas.

12. Favorite Christmas movie?
I can't decide between It's a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol. I like them both.

13. When do you start shopping?
In September. That's the ideal, anyway. Some years it doesn't work out quite like that and it is more like December.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Yes, and that is all I'm going to say about that.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Chocolate covered cherries followed by fudge as a close second.

16. Lights on the tree?
Yes, multi-colored ones.

17. Favorite Christmas song?
I am not sure I have a favorite. I like them all depending on my mood. If I have to pick one, I vote for O Holy Night.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
Stay home. I have never been anywhere but in the Roanoke Valley over Christmas. Sometimes I travel to a relatives house but they all live here so I am not going very far. Just once I would like to spend Christmas someplace else. Williamsburg or Disney in Florida, maybe.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?
Dasher Dancer Prancer Vixen Comet Cupid Donner Blitzen. And Rudolph. I can also recite a good portion of The Night Before Christmas from memory. And roll my tongue. But I can't wiggle my ears.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
When we were children my brother and I were allowed to open our present from one another on Christmas Eve. The rest were ripped open with vengeance on Christmas morning. These days we do the Christmas Day thing. No early opening for me anymore.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
That it starts so early. The stores push it too soon and I was not happy when one of the radio stations started playing carols a week before Thanksgiving. Let's get one holiday over before we start the next one!

23. Favorite ornament theme or color?
My favorite ornament says "First Christmas Together" and we've had it since we married. I love Santa Mouse and have a lot of little Santa Mouse ornaments on the tree. My favorite Santa Mouse in my house is one my friend Brenda gave me several years ago. My most favorite belongs to my parents, though.

24. Favorite Christmas memory?
My brother running into my room and waking me up at 3 a.m. whispering "Santa Claus came, get up!" Santa always left toys under the tree for us, unwrapped and waiting.

I also have a fond memory of the year I turned five and received a blue bicycle. A Batgirl doll was sitting on the seat when I arrived in the room.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year?
Peace on Earth.

If I can't have that, then I would like to instantaneously lose a lot of weight.

And if I can't have that, then I would like several good books to read.

Thursday Thirteen

Good things about Christmas:

1. The reason for the season. My faith is a personal thing, and I am not a flagrant Christian by any stretch of the imagination, but the idea of a savior being born to save the world has great appeal.

2. Carols. I love the sounds of Christmas. They are happy sounds, generally. My favorites: Angels We Have Heard on High and Hark the Herald Angels Sing.

3. Lights. I like the way the streets are suddenly visible, lighting the way for wayward children, lost souls and the Lamb of God.

4. Decorations. Okay, so some of them are quite cheesy but I enjoy seeing what people put out. Santa Claus and snowmen and elves and mangers and everything else just add to the general whimsy of the winter.

5. Snow. I know its not necessarily a Christmas thing. Still, it is magical. And Christmas snow is especially magical even if I have never seen a dancing snowman.

6. Food. Some of the best (and most fattening) food comes at the holiday time. Cookies and cakes. Fudge (yum). I even like fruit cake (my husband adores Claxton fruit cakes). Boiled custard (another thing my husband adores). Turkey, ham, yams. Such a buffet!

7. Gift wrapping. Don't you love the designs, the bows, the colors? Or the act of spending time thinking about the people you love while you're wrapping?

8. The presents. I like the giving part - and the getting part, too. It would be dishonest to say I don't really like receiving presents. I enjoy giving things more, though. I like the long process of giving thought to each individual, trying to come up with something that is the perfect thing. Since I limit some of my gift buying to food, "green" items, books, music, and the arts, it is sometimes a challenge.

9. Get togethers. I am not a social butterfly but I enjoy meetings with friends, small parties, family time with relatives seldom seen. This year I have family coming in from Texas; I am looking forward to seeing them.

10. Cooking. This is the one time of the year I do a lot of baking and cooking that I normally have little time for. It's fun! This year I want to try gingerbread - and maybe even make a house! - if I can find a recipe.

11. TV specials. Around here, it is not the Christmas season until Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (the old version, the claymation one) has been watched by the two adults in the house. I also enjoy Santa Claus is Coming to Town and How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

12. The tree. This year we bought as special "25th anniversary" ornament to add to our tree. Our tree has firemen and farm equipment on it. I really need to find a typewriter ornament for myself. Maybe I could put a red ribbon around a pencil?

13. Holiday reading. This year in particular I seem to be gravitating toward to syrupy sweet holiday stories. They are nice stories and this is a good time of year to concentrate on "nice."


Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.

The Christmas Promise

The Christmas Promise
By Donna VanLiere
Read by the author
Copyright 2007

This is a sentimental and sweet story about Gloria. She is a widow with four children, one of whom has been missing for the last seven years.

She has created a new life for herself based on service. She makes sure the homeless and other folks in need are helped as best as she can help them. She delivers food, takes in children, and offers counsel. She makes money by teaching basic life skills courses.

Miriam is her next door neighbor. She is not a kind person and she looks down on Gloria. After her house floods, though, she finds herself living with Gloria. And then with a pregnant lady who moves in with Gloria. And then with a five year old child who also moves in.

Chaz takes a new job at Wilson's Department Store. He is a very unhappy fellow.

The lives of the characters all collide with little surprise to the reader. Still, it might bring a tear to the eye.

The book offers Christmas hope and a few miracles. Not what I normally read or listen to, but I liked it well enough.

3 stars

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

The other night we watched Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Very good movie!

Lots of action, a little romance, plenty of mystery. Vintage Indiana Jones stuff, cleverly updated to the McCarthy times.

Recommended to all Indiana Jones fans.

4 stars

Random Musings

Last week when I filled up the car with gas, I walked through what I thought was a mud puddle. It turned out to be a gas puddle.

I soaked the bottoms of my good sneakers in Dawn dish washing liquid and in white vinegar before I could stand to put them back on. I walked up and down the streets of Fincastle in them on Saturday and now they smell like asphalt and old apples.

***

Every year I lose a pair of scissors. I don't know where they go. Since I never find them again I guess they must somehow get up on their little pointy ends and tiptoe out of the house. I imagine them running down the driveway, breathless, trying to escape from the evil paper-cutting woman inside who dulls their edges.

Maybe then they make their way to some halfway house for escaped utensils and tools, where they hide out with an assortment of screwdrivers, hammers and silverware. Because they certainly are not here.

***

One of my friends (and a fellow blogger) and I have a great deal in common, from birthdays that are close to the cancer that took our mothers. She recently had surgery and has reported that she will have a large scar on her chest when the opening heals.

I have had a large scar on my chest since I was five years old. Weird!

It was a parade!

Fincastle Christmas Parade 2008



The churches came to keep Christ in Christmas



The merry kazooers, townsfolk who always march along humming into their kazooes.



James River High School Band. They were decked out and sounding fine!



Lord Botetourt High School Band. Also decked out and sounding fine! (I have an affinity for the bands, having been a band member myself. I remember those cold marches!)



Sheriff Department's color guard.



LBHS flag girls



The fire departments and rescue squads were well represented.



Ol' St. Nick brought up the rear.

Christmas 1975

On a December Saturday in 1975, a day much like today, my parents dropped my brother and me off at my grandparents to stay the night.

Dad was the front singer in a Top 40 music band that in the 1970s was well known throughout the valley. It was called Music, Inc., and he and Mom were out most every weekend.

On this December night, I fell while playing with my brother and my two young uncles (I was 12; my uncles were 11 and 16; my brother was 9). My right wrist made a sickening noise as I hit the cement in the basement.

Grandpa rushed me to the emergency room, where x-rays revealed fractured bones. I returned home in a heavy cast. No Velcro removable cast for me; I don't think they made them at that time.

My mother had been informed of my accident and she came to get me instead of leaving me there for the night. She opened the door and walked into my grandparents living room. I saw her and promptly passed out cold in the floor.

The cast was burdensome. I couldn't participate in band class, where I was taking flute. I lost the first chair position to my nemesis, Angie. Every six weeks or so it seemed we swapped first chair position. Since I couldn't play it was no longer mine.

I was in the 7th grade. This was my first year for half-year exams (I wonder if they still give those). The cast had my fingers spread apart so that I couldn't hold a pencil (and I of course was right-handed). I tried to write with my left hand but the scrawl was so bad that my teachers opted to give me oral examinations.

Christmas Day came and went. I don't remember anything I received as a gift. A few days later, my mother and I sat in the living room trying to sort through gifts and put things back in order. My father and brother were out doing farm things.

My mother was depressed and in a very foul mood. I remember crying while we worked because her unhappiness was contagious. I was pretty useless with my arm in a cast, too.

A knock on the door startled us. The neighbor burst in the door. She had run all the way up the driveway, which was about 1/3 mile.

My father had run over my brother with the tractor. He had scooped him up and the neighbor's husband was driving them to the hospital.

I was still in my nightgown. My mother hustled me into the backseat along with some clothes and told me to change as we drove.

She sped quickly down what then was a dirt road and headed toward the hospital, going so fast that when she unexpectedly slid through a curve on Catawba Road I fell into the car door. I landed against my cast; the pain in my wrist was enormous. But I didn't say anything.

At the hospital, we found my father in tears. He had been scraping the dirt driveway with a scraper blade on the back end of the tractor. My brother had been riding on the blade. He fell between the blade and the rear tractor wheels. My father dragged him quite a ways before he heard my brother yelling "Daddy help me!"

When my father stopped the tractor and shut it off, the back wheels rolled backwards, up over my brother's chest.

My brother suffered a concussion, broken ribs and other injuries. As a result of his head injury, his eyes went crossed. He was in the hospital for at least a week.

I spent New Year's Day night with my grandparents. My father had a gig to play with his band and my mother was staying at Community Hospital with my brother.

Late that evening, my grandfather, who was 56 years old, said he wasn't feeling well. Not long after, he collapsed.

The ambulance came and he and my grandmother went to Lewis Gale Hospital. I tried to call my mother at the other hospital but the switch board wouldn't put me through to my brother's room, not even when I said it was an emergency. They told me I could reach her at 7 a.m.

I remember calling her right at 7 o'clock to tell her her father was sick.

About three hours later, my mother came into my grandparents house, crying. My grandfather on January 2, 1975, died of a heart attack.

My brother left the hospital in time to go the funeral but he did not. He was still a little boy, after all.

After months of therapy, his eyes straightened out. The rest of him seemed to be okay, too.

When my wrist continued to ache my mother took me to the doctor, where another x-ray showed I had broken it again. I was in a cast on that arm for about 12 weeks straight.

I'm not sure where that memory came from; I think it is the ache in my wrist today that reminded me the thing probably hurts for a reason. I don't think I've ever written about that dreadful time before.

But that was the holidays in 1975.