Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Sunday was a fabulous Winter Onederland birthday party for our sweet little girl. My daughter wants to give the kids in her care every opportunity to feel nurtured and to be celebrated. This little one-year-old most definitely did.
My folks were present and my dad tends to like to keep things moving. My daughter's Christmas tree* (another memorable experience. Picking it out, drinking hot cocoa, smacking mom in the head with the huge orange stick that lets the cutter crew know the tree has been found, then decorating it. Oops, after mom had to hack away at the crooked trunk so it would sit upright,) *which was sorely dried out and ready for retirement. He suggested pruning shears which he happened to have in his trunk. So while the party guests were leaving he went to get his shears. My mom and I began undecorating the very, VERY poky tree. Dad came back with large garbage bags and gloves, too. Also a bin to hold the bag while he stuffed.
He chopped, chopped, chopped that tree down and got it into two bags, the needles filled a smaller bag. And bam. The tree was taken care of.
I thanked him later and told him how much it meant to my daughter that she didn't have to deal with the tree all by herself, or at all. He said that it was such an easy idea it should appear somewhere for the world to read.
So there it is. Tip. If you have a Christmas tree needing to go back to the great outdoors, pruning shears are an amazing quick and painless (relatively) easy way to do it.
Thanks, Dad for being a knight in shining armor and boy scout prepared. And for the pictures, too.