Christmas blues

I knew it was going to happen. I have felt it in my bones for years and it finally happened this past Sunday. The death of my Father's Christmas ornament. I don't know how old it was or even the history around it. I supplied that in my imagination when my mother gave it to me about a dozen years ago.

  The mythology I invented went something like this. It was bought by my grandfather in the nineteen-twenties, when he was happy with his wife and didn't drink too much. He had a job and life was pretty good.
   Or maybe it was an ornament off the tree at Uncle Willie's house, where my Dad stayed for a while during the depression and he took this box of ornaments from his house after his Uncle died in the late fifties to remind him of if not a great man a good man who was the rock of his family, who was always there when he was needed by his parents or by his nieces or nephews.
  I remember the ornaments hanging on our trees during the nineteen-sixties.

They would hang with the cheap plastic ornaments that I now treasure, the ones filled with all the Christmas memories of growing up waiting for my dad to come back off the route to open presents. Or the time I stood in the doorway of my room at two in the morning while CBS played a Christmas Carol over and over on the TV, my Dad asleep in the chair. Or the time, I was very young, Bonanza was still on, it was a Christmas Sunday and had gone to bed, but couldn't sleep. I came out to my mother sitting on the floor cleaning up, her asking the usual "Why are You up?", me crawling into her lap and telling her I felt bad that her and Daddy got nothing for Christmas, Her saying that they got enough and it was OK.
  These are the memories that were in that ornament, which will now be in the ornaments like the bird that has been on every tree as far back as I can remember, as well as the cheap plastic nineteen-sixties ornaments that I now love.
  I even have a collection of Hallmark ornaments that have memories of when I first moved out of my parents house after my Dad died and I lived up in Stony Point. Every

Hallmark ornament that has to do with Mickey or I love Lucy or the Wizard of Oz is filled with memories of Teri and I, when we lived in Nyack and life seemed easier, a little simpler. We weren't so old back then.
  Christmas is filled with so many memories, some like the girls first Christmas were magical. I have a video of it.
  I guess I will get over the death of the ornament. I even took pictures of it in case it were to happen. When it did it was just like I thought it would happen. Someone was anxious to put up decorations on the tree and it's hook caught the one that was being picked up, it went up just high enough to clear the box, that was sitting on the floor. I heard it shatter and even before I looked,

 I knew what had happened. I didn't get mad, I kind of just sagged and went to get the broom. Teri ever the one to take care of bad situations cleaned it up and I just got lost. I was told several times how sorry they were and I know they were. It was an accident, sad but true and it could of happened at anytime. It was just it's time to die. Just as it wasn't it's time when Teri's cat toppled the tree in Nyack. It survived while several of Teri's ornaments didn't. Again it was just it's time, just like it will all be our time someday.

Thanksgiving 2013 through to Nastiafest edition fifteen

Thanksgiving this year was small, just six people. Eric and Lynn had just eight and there was a thought to combine the two, but it is nice to celebrate the holidays at home even though you have to clean up afterwards. We did agree to go over their house around six to have dessert. I hadn't made anything so we bought over a bottle of champagne.
   Teri and Nancy aimed for dinner at two. They bought it in a little late and right on Muller time. For all of you who don't know, Muller time is about an hour or so after the time you said it would happen. So a two O'clock dinner time would be right on the money at three, three-thirty. We finished eating a little after four, four -thirty. I did the same thing to Elena my parents did to us kids when we were young, I made her sit at the table and talk to other people after she finished eating. She was not pleased as I was never pleased. After a few minutes she started talking and I think she enjoyed herself.
   After Dinner we cleaned and about six we went over to Lynn and Eric's. The girls enjoy going over to see their cousins and see Grammy. The fact that Billy and Denis have the best game room they have ever seen doesn't hurt. They played x-box over x-box live and played with Ryan in Florida. They played for a couple of hours. A visit that was supposed to be short ended around nine-thirty.
  It was nice to have a day off in the middle of the week. Usually I would take Friday off too, but I am only with Cream-O-Land dairy for a little over six weeks after Consolidated went out of business.
  Nastiafest 2013 was a Tuesday and Teri left for work before seven. She kissed Nastia happy birthday and went to work. I got the girls up at their usual time for school, 7:30, wishing the birthday girl a good day. Nastia ever the pan-handler told several teachers it was her birthday and she told me later some gave her money. The bus driver, she said gave her five dollars.
   Teri and I made a special effort to get home early and the four of us with Nancy, Amanda and Grammy all went out to The Hard Wok to have Chinese food. We sat in one of the backrooms and ate and Nastia opened presents. It ended around eight-thirty. That was Tuesday.
   Over the weekend the girls were bored. I wanted them to go outside and do something besides play x-box on line all day. They hung around on the north lot, sat on the still unfinished tree house, all that fun stuff you do when your parents tell you to go outside and get some exercise. A few days earlier I had thrown some pumpkins from the garden that I had never gotten around to making pumpkin pies out of back into the garden. Once a pumpkin freezes it can't be used. I got a bright idea. I took a battery operated saw outside and grabbed the stick Elena was holding. Without saying a word I cut it to the length of a baseball bat. I looked at her and said "don't you remember what happens when you two have sticks in our hands?" For all of you who are guessing the first month we had the girls Elena hit Nastia with a big stick and Nastia needed several stiches.
  It was time for Pumpkin baseball. The brand new sport where they serve you up these big fat balls to hit, sorta, well there not real balls, there pumpkins a little larger then softballs. Elena got up first and got three swings, fouling off a few. Then Nastia got up and she did the same. At this point I tell them I will show you how to do it. On the first pitch from Elena, she serves up this big orange target, high and dead center over the plate. Thirty years ago I would of parked that in the neighbor yard after it bounced off their house or at least splattered it all over my children, here I foul tip it. I put my eyes back into my head and tell her to do that again. Well you can't go home again especially thirty years later. Everyone gets several tries until we are throwing chunks of pumpkin at the batter. Elena got ahold of one or two and splattered them. Nastia and I fouled off a few and maybe got a single or two when we connected it was a fun few minutes. When we were do I let them go inside and play x-box for the rest of the day. They had gotten their exercise.