Reading Buddy

I have continued to keep my New Year's resolution of having quiet time for myself before I go to sleep, so the bedtime reading has been one of the sweet spots in my days lately. And Stuffed has been more thrilled than anyone about that.  He not only naps on top of me while I read, he stretches his paws out onto my chest and neck too. If you have never felt the furry softness of a cat's paw leisurely patting your throat, you're missing out. Stuffed is so cuddly and just so dear in these moments--a favorite stuffed animal come-to-life.

While there are other joyful things I could report, this is today's: That at the end of these long and crazy days, thank goodness this cat Mike calls "The Skunk" is there to use me as his bed, giving me the evil eye when I turn the page too loudly and purring contentedly when I scratch behind his ears between chapters. 

And a New Year Begins

Elbs

My grandfather left Italy for America as a child. When he arrived and started school here, he spoke no English. Papa would tell us all about the day the teacher asked him to read aloud in class, and when he came across the abbreviation for the word "pounds," "lbs.," he pronounced it "elbs," and his classmates all started laughing and making fun of him. The other kids nicknamed him "Elbs" and teased him about that the rest of his time in school. Papa had to drop out of school in the eighth grade to go work in the coal mines, but the short time he'd had to put up with the kids' teasing led him to remind me and my brothers, a lifetime later, "You're no better than anybody else. And you're no worse either. You just remember who you are."

I never thought to ask Papa if there had been any kids in school who were truly nice to him and his younger brother when they'd first arrived here, but if I could talk with him about this story today, that's one of the things I'd want to know. And were any of the old-timers we would run into--and whom Papa would stop and talk with--when we "went into town" to buy groceries those summer days I stayed at Papa and Grandma's house people who had once been kids in Papa's class? Were any of his former classmates still alive and residing in the same town at that time? Did he run into them all the time? Was he ever called "Elbs" as an adult? Did some of those kids change as the the times and the neighborhood changed, eventually becoming nicer to my immigrant grandfather and his Italian-speaking family? And had the teacher laughed too? How did his teacher treat Papa and the other immigrant students? Papa would likely shake his head at these questions and say something along the lines of "No matter" or "That's not the point" in response to them. But I am not missing the point--I just can't help but be curious. He wasn't one to hold grudges, but he was one to remember a kindness. I wish I'd delved into his story more, is all.

I am reminded of the "Elbs" story every time I read or write the abbreviation for "pounds," which is pretty often the past couple years as I work toward getting into my goal weight range. To have Papa's "You're no better than anybody else. And you're no worse either. You just remember who you are" come to mind so often is one of his greatest gifts to me. 

Keep your faith in all beautiful things; in the sun when it is hidden, in the Spring when it is gone. ~ Roy R. Gilson

Today was one of those days, and there have been a few of "those days" this week. I have tomorrow off and began my time away from the working world this afternoon by climbing into the tub with a hot chocolate--extra dashes of vanilla and cinnamon, thank you very much--and a book of Jane Austen's major novels. 

I have been reading Sense and Sensibility nightly before bed the past few weeks and am now about seventy pages from the end. I've read Jane Austen before but couldn't really get into her writing at the time and don't even remember which of her major novels it was that I read. So now, probably at least ten years later, I'm reading Miss Jane again. One of my former English professors used to say that you haven't really read a book until you've read it twice, and I agree.  I'm in the habit of starting back at page one after finishing my first read of something, Dr. D would be happy to hear. 

In any case, it was hot chocolate and Jane for me this afternoon, and on an otherwise gloomy thirty-degree day, the sun came out while I was in the tub and filled the bathroom with a beautiful buttery light for awhile. While my mood has not improved a grand amount , I do feel more rested and much more peaceful, so thank goodness, as always, for long hot baths and good books. And now, back to Elinore and her awkward conversation with Lucy and Edward. 

Cat and Mouse in December

Stuffed in his new favorite spot ♥

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~ Thornton Wilder

It seems to me that every Thanksgiving is sweeter than the one before, and so, every Thanksgiving ends up becoming My Favorite Thanksgiving Ever. Maybe as we grow older, we become more aware of all that we have to be thankful for and that awareness makes the holiday that much more poignant. As my mom and I added our dishes to my older brother and sister-in-law's table on Thursday, Mom pointed out the floral-patterned plates before us. "Mom and Dad's good china," she smiled. But it was the first time since my grandparents had died that I'd seen it, and the sight of the cream-colored dinner plates with their delicate pink and blue flowered rims made me choke up. A wobbly-sounding "Ah!" was all I could manage in response to my mom, but I know she understood. And in the midst of missing my grandparents so much, I couldn't help but be grateful for having experienced a love from Papa and Grandma so strong and pure and good that even seven years after their deaths, just the sight of their dinner plates is enough to make me cry. If you've loved someone so much, and been blessed enough to miss someone so much, that just the sight of his or her belongings makes your heart ache, then you understand, as my mom did. And I am happy for you. It is Thanksgiving every day when you know that ache and "Ah!" 

Thanksgiving 2008 ~ Bread Dough Cornucopia ♥

My favorite thing in a long time that I've cooked or baked, this cornucopia is made of bread dough. :) I wrapped ready-to-bake (a.k.a "whack-the-tube-against-a-counter") dough around a cornucopia I'd shaped out of foil, braided the edges, baked it, then removed the foil. 'Cute for a vegetable tray but would make sweet individual/mini cornucopia rolls too. I'd wanted to try this idea for ages--I'd saved a magazine clipping of the project in my Thanksgiving scrapbook/idea book years ago--and it turned out just as I'd hoped. ♥

Friendship is one of the sweetest joys of life. Many might have failed beneath the bitterness of their trial had they not found a friend. ~ C.H. Spurgeon

♥

Starting Over Yet Again (And Thank You, Instructor Steve)

My motivation to walk and eat right seems to have gone haywire lately: I'll walk six miles one day and nap instead of exercising the next three days, eat really well for a week then not bother to stock up on healthy groceries for the next week, fill out almost all my daily food diary during the day and not complete it at night, and so on. One of my math instructors in college once reprimanded me while looking over my self-made study materials for his class by kind of snidely opining that I should do more work and less preparation for work. And although I argued that I did both--I really worked quite hard even to pass that class--I understood what he meant: I'd put together a number of sample tests to take, I'd rewritten some of the textbook thinking it would help me memorize the step-by-step how-to of the problems, I'd copied and organized into one folder all the formulas and other tools from the text and from books and resources I'd borrowed from him, I'd done so many little things that fell under the category of "This Math Class and Things I Know About It and Things That Might Help Me Do Well in It," but I was really doing very few actual math problems. I was working around the subject instead of working on the subject. And I can see now, these past few weeks, that I've been handling this weight loss/better health challenge of mine in much the same way: I've signed up to have various diet and health-related newsletters emailed to myself, I've taken a couple "before and after" pictures, and I've bookmarked a bunch of articles online that contain good tips and information on weight loss, but I've been skipping my walks, not eating well, and slacking off with my food diary too. So as Instructor Steve would say, it's time to do more work and less preparation for work.

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace. ~ Georges Bernanos

Two little things that have made me quite happy today are my new green and white thigh-high tube socks and a rose bush I walked past on my way home from work this afternoon. The ring of our apartment's buzzer late this afternoon announced the just-in-time-to-wear-on-a-cold-night sock delivery, and I'm quite sure I've never loved a pair of socks this much. In fact, I hate wearing socks--I'd rather go barefoot anytime--and these are the only ones I've ever had on that don't even feel like socks. They just feel like warm legs and feet. I think I'll be getting my mom a pair of these for Christmas this year. And just breathing in the roses' perfume as I walked home today took me back to something good in my 80s childhood. Once I've identified the rose, I'll add it to my "Someday Wish List." Meanwhile, with warm feet and a grateful heart, I'm off to bed.