To do - maybe

It's Saturday morning and my "to do" list is nearly complete. I've decided to decorate some for Christmas. Once the rooms are all nicely dusted, vacuumed or whatever else is needed - a new "to do" list will emerge. There might be minor changes in bows, trailing ribbons, ornaments, or design. I really never know - I let creativity take me down a path. I do know that once the front door decoration goes on - the rest falls in place. So the big question will be - what to put on the front door this year?

But wait! Maybe I'll enjoy the Thanksgiving after glow.
Maybe I'll give the sheaf of wheat on the door another day or so.
Maybe the golds and browns need more space,
before the reds and greens cover the place.

Maybe.

Let's Celebrate the Small Things for Nov. 28, 2014!

This week I'm celebrating:
1 - One of the prettiest Autumns I've ever seen in my neighborhood. (Winter is 24 days away!)
2 - Birthday boots and a sweater. (My god-daughter likes to surprise me.)
3 - A very peaceful Thanksgiving day.

This post is part of VikLit's blog hop, Celebrate the Small Things. To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is follow the link and put your name on the Mr.Linky list, and then be sure to post every Friday about something you're grateful  for that week.  It can be about writing or family or school or general life.  This is the funnest and easiest blog hop ever! 

For more information :

Scribblings of an Aspiring Author

Wrapping up the week - cold & cold cuts

Emerson really says it best.

Everything comfy cozy.

                                                                               
















Save some for cold cuts.

I've got just the thing for wrapping up.

The best part?

No airport this week! I'll see it in my dreams.

Turkey Trafficking

Down at the factory the birds are getting laid off one by one. Ray and Charlie are concerned. If they remain employed, then more than likely they'll be some one's dinner by this time tomorrow. But neither wants to give notice and walk away. Turkey's don't make chicken feed - they make serious bucks. Their families are handsomely compensated. Much like a young girl whose family sends her off to wed a strange man - life goes on without them... without her.

Strange post I know. Sometimes my head spins  a line and off I go into a subject. Just thinking about human trafficking and the insanity of it... this thought came along... what if turkey families were aware, and were okay with sending a family member to be the main course for Thanksgiving? After a while it becomes quite natural and normal. I fear human trafficking is running the same course. People giving up a daughter or son for a better life for the family.

Suddenly it dawns on me. Turkeys are not conscious of Thanksgiving. It's just another day for Ray and Charlie. They don't even know they have names. But it's also another day for the traffickers, who know what they're doing. I suppose it would take a certain desperation for me to give up a son or daughter. I think I'll close this out and light a candle for the missing ones.

Tomorrow is Thursday Wrap up - see you then. Thank you for reading!

Gossip or Gobble

Thanksgiving has always been a big holiday for my family. Once my parents passed on things changed. We no longer went "home" but became separate. Three siblings going three different ways. But then two households began disagreeing on life, the universe, and everything... now I'm expected to pick a side. It's nothing new really. It's been a family tradition to disagree for decades about everything, but I've grown especially tired of it all.

I know many families that never seem to have a problem. Their holidays sound glorious and everything is perfect. So when it came time for me to decide if I wanted a perfect holiday or contention, I chose to spend the time at home. No more stressing over what everyone wants. They're certainly not going to stress over what I want,  and what I want is peacefulness. I cannot change them - yet I love each of them, no matter what.

A month ago I bought a turkey and planned to cook it while watching one of the Thanksgiving day parades. I figured by the time the parade was over the turkey would be done. Great plan! Then five days ago both parties called with an invitation. I've flipped this back and forth a thousand times, but in my heart I know staying home is the best decision for me. I haven't celebrated a single holiday with either, when there wasn't the usual gossip. I'm done.

Thursday morning I will proceed with my plans. I think the parade starts at 8:30 a.m., so the bird has to be in the oven just before then. Yep, and maybe some scrabbled egg biscuits, a little coffee, and let the show begin.

A couple of neighbors will be over later and we'll laugh over leftovers. Charles is bringing his coveted broccoli casserole and ice cream (to go with the apple pie I'm planning). Lisa is bringing potato salad and maybe some leftover mac 'n cheese. This is my family. Then - I'll probably listen to each tell the family nightmare from this year's Thanksgiving day... but at least I won't have a sad tale to add. That's peacefulness.

Your turn!
Is there a Thanksgiving celebration where you live?
If so, do you gossip or gobble around the bird? (smile).

a blustery day

It's a blustery day. The sun is playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. A little spot of grey and then, wham(!) a bright spot of yellow, and here comes the sun.

Leaves are swirling, dancing among the trees. Like a sky full of butterflies, they flit, flit, flit, then spiral to the ground, landing ever so softly.

Swaying trees, shaking their limbs toward me, how do you do? Bending low, sending forth a flurry of golden-red leaves to mix with the brown that have already jumped.

A slight chill but then a warm spot of sunshine on my shoulders. A whipping wind slips around me, then suddenly it's gone. I resist the urge to step inside and miss all the fun of this blustery day.

Who's Rafting Now?

Long ago and far away I met a man of interest.
He introduced me to his wife, and later on his mistress.
Now I don't mind a joke or two and surely love to laugh,
But one day he was caught with me inside his private raft.

We sailed along a line of clouds and watched the birds soar by.
The sun did make it's way along, caressed by every sigh.
Until the rain came pouring down, it sending us below.
Forget the raft, forget the man, it's time for me to go.