STAVE I: CHRISTMAS

Christmas spirit all month long   If Gray Thursday and Black Friday set the pace for the Christmas season, it’s going to be a rough ride. Some years, especially when Thanksgiving and Christmas are close together, it seems like Christmas itself gets trampled in the rush to get things done.   The very heart of Christmas can become like a flattened Black Friday shopper out in the cold parking lot of life.   To prevent the scurry and hurry of the season from destroying what counts, it helps to focus on the charitable center, the Bob Cratchit cheer, the ho ho ho and the Holy, Holy, Holy. Will we end up in frustration, mummified in wrapping paper and wearing a scowl? Or will we shine with inner peace and candlelight glow?   Here is a list of 25 ways to keep Christmas in perspective and help go for the glow:   1. Hum carols throughout the day.   2. Bell-ringers you come across? Visit them twice: once when entering the store and again when exiting. ...

Too much information     A friend’s mom left her senior living facility and moved into an apartment because of “too much information.”   She said residents conversed only on two topics:   health problems and neglectful children.   After the third colonoscopy conversation, I can see that she might be ready to move out.    “Too much information” has become a popular catchphrase to use when conversations become too gross, too personal or too uncomfortable.   A friend describes ancient gallbladder surgery and goes into detail about the incision? Too much information!   A relative gives mushy particulars about intimacy with her boyfriend? Too much information!     Someone tweets on bodily functions? #TooMuchInformation.   We can now listen to Justin Bieber, while watching Dr. Who, while reading Jane Austen and playing Halo IV. Why we’d want to, I don’t know. But we can.   Recently, I tried to watch my son...

   Roy got up at 6:30 the day after Christmas so he could beat the crowds and get to the gift return counter as early as possible.   When he arrived at the store parking lot, he was surprised at the number of shoppers with the same idea. He parked, grabbed his unwanted gift and made for the return counter.    Quite a few shoppers had arrived ahead of him, but that was okay; standing in line would allow him to think about what to buy with his refund.    For Christmas, he’d really wanted the shiatsu massager with iPod dock and mug warmer, but no one thought to give it to him. Maybe he could have it after all.    Standing in line, he was cold. The return counter stood near the front door, and cold air rushed in. His neck ached from looking over and around heads to see the gift return clerks.    He heard the exchanges at the counter:    “Do you have a receipt?”    “No.”    Well, who did have a receipt for ...

    I spent 30 minutes helping my son search for a blue folder containing sheet music. After turning the house upside down, my son finally remembered that the music wasn't in a folder at all, but in a plain manila envelope.    I had passed it dozens of times because I didn't really know what I was looking for.    In another fruitless search, my daughter agreed to pick up some blue replacement bulbs for an outdoor strand of Christmas lights. I wasn't sure the size: C-7? C-9? The bulbs didn't say. The cord didn't say. I tried describing them. A little bigger than my thumb. My daughter searched thoroughly and returned with C-7s – too small. They were smaller than my thumb, but larger than hers.    Searching for an overdue book is similar. What are we looking for? A red hardback about the size of a thick novel, someone says. No luck. A week later we find it: a tall, thin, blue paperback. We really didn't know what we were looking for. ...

     I don’t decorate. I have enough trouble keeping up with essentials. Right now, in a feeble attempt to decorate for Christmas, half a red garland hangs on our house, in lopsided mockery of décor.    No tree this year. You can’t imagine the time saved by not putting up a tree!    Decoration, I figure, is for people of leisure or taste.    Once, when visiting a home goods store on vacation, I admired the dainty, orderly and splashy looking items and saw what I was missing: a whole array of things to dust. But among the vases, pots, table linens and candles stood something different: a bust of Caesar Augustus.    What, I wondered, was this doing here? But there it was and at a very reasonable price, too. Imagine owning an emperor for thirty bucks! Since my husband Art teaches Roman history, what could be a better accessory than the head of a Roman emperor?    I mailed it home, carefully wrapped, and it made it without b...

Everything about Christmas is fragile, especially at a 2-year-old's eye level. Shiny gold and red ornaments. Tapered candles. The special crystal and glassware and dishes. Candy canes. Colored lights. All the Christmas paraphernalia cries out to be inspected more closely, touched, handled and experienced fully. But they can break - so, no. They sparkle, shine, tempt, invite. But - no! Too fragile. Keep your hands away. No, no, no. Laurie, 2, stands on tiptoe, gazing in toddler adoration at ceramic Nativity figures. "Could I play with the breakable people?" she asks. Shepherd, angel and wise men are simply "the breakable people." It's sad, but that is her name for them. She has heard the Christmas story and knows "Away in a Manger." She wants more. She wants to move closer, to see firsthand the scene of the Nativity, to touch the jeweled turban of Wise Man No. 1, to feel the glazed wool of a sheep. She also wants to know more about that "Lord J...

Snow, or no snow, this time of year brings to kids those three words that mean so much. Not "I love you," "How r u?" or "Ho, ho, ho!" (Okay. "Ho, ho, ho" is not three words, it's one word three times; and "How r u only qualifies for online chat heads.) The words kids hear most often in winter are: "Shut that door!" In our house we have two doors that must be closed upon entry. The front door leads directly to polar air flow. An entryway between the front door and the door to the living room mixes that icy air with house air. The entryway serves as a buffer between Siberia and comfortable, living room heat.The kids rarely forget to close the front door. Somehow, frigid, arctic air jostles their brain cells enough to signal the door-closing response. But after removing coat, hat and boots, and basking in the warmth of living room heat as they enter the living room, the kids fall victim to drowsy, warm influences on those same br...