Getting Ready for a Christmas Trip

I am a list-maker.  Especially when something big is coming up.  Like Christmas.  Or a vacation.  And especially a vacation and Christmas together.  I make lists of things to pack, things to do, things to buy, things to wrap, things to eat...  I might even need to make lists of my lists so I'm not as discombobulated with all my loose paper lists like I was this year.  I'm cleaning out my black bag- my brain when we are out - and I came across all my lists.

Packing for a one-week trip over Christmas:

• 3 sets of clothes (with a washer and dryer, this was plenty of clothing)
• snow gear (didn't really need since we were sick)
• Sunday clothes (worked well to pack this in its own garment bag)
• nativity bag (dress-ups for putting on the nativity - scrapped as I got too crazy)
• bathroom bag (wipes, medicines, bandaids, toothpaste, and all that bathroom stuff)
• activities bag (things for the kids to do)
• Christmas bag (decorations for the tree, stockings, lights, tinsel, wrapping paper)
• presents (boxes and boxes packed tightly with already-wrapped presents)
• kitchen supplies (pizza pans, bread pans, turkey cooker, other things I didn't know if they would have)
• food (lots and lots and lots)

The only category I got totally wrong was the food.  Maybe it was because we were sick, but we took way too much food.  I guess it's better to take too much than too little, but when there is  grocery store within 30 minutes, it might be worth it to not pack just everything.  On the other hand, I'd rather not spend vacation time grocery shopping.  

It makes me crazy to get ready and pack up to go somewhere.  I'm nearly good with getting ready for church, almost.  Anywhere else - get ready for a breakdown or two.  My listing helps me see that I am making progress and that there is really not an unending sea of things to do.

And maybe next time, the first thing on my first list will be this:

CHECK YOUR ATTITUDE.  THIS IS A VACATION, NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.  HAVE FUN!

O Tannenbaum

We have a fake Christmas tree.  It is nice enough and does the job, then folds up and hides under our stairs for the rest of the year.  The kids put lights and ornaments on it and it looks good.  I have given up on the idea of a perfect magazine-looking Christmas tree.  We raise kids around here, not home designers.

But to me, there is the quiet appeal of a real Christmas tree, calling to me.  I've only had a read tree two or three times, but I long for it.  I love the feel of real branches, the chill of picking out one just-right, the gummy excitement of setting it straight in the stand, the delectable smell of crushed pine needles in the vacuum.

This year, I decided, we will get a real tree.  We're going on a holiday vacation anyway, so we'll set up our regular tree for at home, then have a real tree for there.  I thought we'd just stop by a Christmas tree lot on the way out of town, strap it to the top of the tree, and away we go!

I was all prepared.  I had popcorn to pop and needles and string make garlands of popcorn.  I had white paper and scissors to cut real, six-pointed snowflakes.  I hunted down a package of tinsel so we could individually place the silvery strands "just so" like my dad's mother did.  I packed a few strings of the colored lights my boys prefer over the more calming white ones.  I purchased a tree stand and even a tree body bag for when it was time to go home.  All set?  You bet.

Of course, no plan goes exactly right.  At least none of mine do.  We go started too late in the day to stop by a tree stand.  The next day, we had to take a bunch of time to drive to town, inquire after real Christmas trees, and then drive to the next town to find one.  They were more expensive than the ones I saw at home.  And once we actually got the biggest little tree I could bear to pay that much for and lugged it home, we couldn't find the tree stand.  I had intentionally placed it between the front seats in the van so it wouldn't get lost.

After scouring the cabin and both vans (we don't have a van we all fit in so we have to drive tandem), we came to the disheartening conclusion that we had left the tree stand home.  I was too sick to go any further, so Trent went back into town to locate another stand for our poor tree.  He found one at the third place he stopped, and reluctantly paid double for it.  We have a hard time parting with our money, I guess.

As he left the hardware store, he got a flash of inspiration.  Why buy a tree stand when you can make one?  He went dumpster diving, found a bucket, and came home with it and a pile of rocks.  Where he found rocks when everything was covered by a foot of snow is beyond me.  We stuck the tree in the bucket, tried to secure it with rocks, and ended up tying the tree to both sides of the cabinet behind it.  It's a good thing we had green twine!  It had a nice, back-woodsy, Charlie Brown Christmas tree feel.

And we found the tree stand in our driveway when we got back.  Just so you don't worry, we've returned both of them.

Home for the Holidays?

We drove for long time to get to the cabin in the mountains where we spent Christmas this year.  I've been itching to have a family vacation before James leaves on his mission.  It's our last!  The last family vacation with our family as we know it!  After this it's all different.  <mother sigh>  So we left over Christmas.  It was nothing fancy - just a place where we could hunker down and be together.  And we took my dad, for the first Christmas without my mom.

It was different to not celebrate at home.  It was fun to do some different things, and nice to be away from some of our normal daily distractions.  Cooking and laundry, however, we took with us.  A little less home-y, but still fun.  To me, it's more about being together.

Twenty-five years ago, my family went to Disneyland for Christmas.  We (er, my Mom) plotted and planned for an entire year to pull the trip off.  She pulled strings, called in favors, and hunted for good deals.  We were let in on the secret during the summer, and we were all for it.  We were ok with spending our Christmas money (and presents!) on Disneyland.  I have fond memories of that trip, and the fun things we did together with our family.

Seven years ago, Jay died just before Christmas.  The next year, I pulled off a monumental surprise and whisked the boys away for the holidays - to Disneyland.  That way, we didn't have to celebrate at home - with the big hole of him not there.  It was a good trip, made possible by many good folks.  Again, fun memories.

I'm glad we went this year, and made some new memories.  Even if we were all sick.

Blogging Break

I'm back.  We went on a Christmas trip, and I didn't blog.  Part of me was enjoying the break.  Part of me was writing stories in my head and thinking "I need to jot this down so I'll remember it" and itching to write. Part of me was reveling in just enjoying my family and not worrying about anything else.  And part of me was dog-sick with the flu.  We were all sick at one point, and due to it being the flu, most of the time most of us were sick.

All I wanted for Christmas this year:

And I have some funny stories that I must jot down before I forget them.  If I can stop coughing, I will. <hack, sneeze>

Merry Christmas!

Marriage Bells - 1992

Twenty Years Ago today, I was a new bride.

We were the 52nd marriage in the Salt Lake Temple that day.  Every corner we rounded would be manned by the sweetest old ladies you have ever seen.  Clutching a white clipboard, one would ask for our names, and we always responded "Number fifty-two."  They cutely chastised us, lovingly reassuring that we were people, not numbers, but we did it again the next time.  Jay loved the reaction.

We waited for a while in the gorgeous Celestial Room, where I remember slumping down in the couch to look at the decorations on the ceiling.  We both slumped down and stared up, aware of other people's furtive glances upward to see what we were looking at.  We giggled a bit.

We were married in a large room on the northeast corner of the annex.  I loved wearing the white dress I had designed, having Jay's strong arm around me, and being surrounded by the people I loved most in the world.  It was a happy time.  At the end of the ceremony, the sealer gave my mother the marriage certificate, "because the bride might lose it in the hustle of the day."  And then Mom lost her purse.  Silly Mom.

Outside the temple, we posed for pictures.  It was a beautifully clear December day, but still chilly.  Our families and friends wore their coats, and Jay had on his tuxedo jacket, but I got colder and colder.  Jay's always-kind-hearted mission president loaned me his overcoat between shots so I wouldn't freeze.  It's interesting how a small amount of kindness can be so long remembered.

It was a wonderful day, full of sunshine and real joy.

Years later, after Jay was terminally ill with cancer, I was asked if I would have married him if I had known he'd leave so soon.

Yup.

Cleaning and Prepping - 1992

Twenty Years Ago today, we were cleaning our apartment.  Small apartments were scarce in the university town, and we knew it would be all but impossible to find one in the middle of the year.  At the end of the summer, when we found a nice one-bedroom apartment in a brand-new complex, we signed up quick.  I still lived at home, but Jay and his brother stayed in the apartment during fall semester.  After finals, I wanted to clean up the bachelor pad and get it ready for newly-wed living.

It really wasn't as bad as I just implied it was, but it's always nice to start out clean.  We spent the day helping Jeff pack up, tidying, putting my dishes in the kitchen cupboards, vacuuming, and cleaning the bathroom.  It was exciting.

When we were mostly done, it was time to have the wedding dinner and a chance for our families to really meet each other.  It was a small dinner at an historic home turned into a bed-and-breakfast.  It was a lovely evening, filled with delicious food and lots of dinging on the goblets by Jay's dad to get us to kiss.  Didn't mind that one at first, but after a while...  ;-)

When the dinner was done, we ran back to the apartment to finish up the last little bit.  My mother had invited Jay to stay overnight with our family (gasp!), so we packed his bag and headed off to my last night at home.  When we got there, the house was strangely silent.  We sat on the couch and visited, full of plans and ideas, waiting for my family to get home.  It didn't take long to get uncomfortable.  Where was my family?  Where was my mother?  She had done such a good job of chaperoning me with boys - and now she's leaving us alone?

I couldn't wait any longer.  I had to shower.  My hair was thick and long - about down to my waist.  I was putting it up in rollers for the big day, and I knew it would take a while.  I came out with dripping hair, and my family was still gone.  Jay was the one who helped me roll the locks up in the plastic tubing I got at the hardware store, to make spiral curls.  Still no family.

Finally, finally!  They came home.  It was nearing midnight, and they had all been out!  With my little brothers!  Jon was only 9, and Mom never allowed him to stay out until anything that even resembled late, and here it was, in the middle of the night!

And where have you been...?  At the church, decorating for your reception.  ...oh...  ...oops... didn't even think about that.

When we got engaged, nine months earlier, we had agreed to a night-before-the-wedding plan.  If either of us got cold feet, we would call the other, sneak out and talk it over with a Slurpee.  Jay loved 7-11 Slurpees.  I guess we didn't have to do it, since we spent half the night rolling up my hair instead.  And he didn't even get a shower!