Each generation accuses the next of being spoiled and lazy. Parents claim they had to work much longer and scrimp and save to buy their first used car, first small house, second hand furniture and on and on and on. Let me describe him for you: He was a six-cylinder that only ran on five. His floor had numerous holes. The brake light stayed on all the time. He burned more oil than gasoline. His side mirror had rotted off. His radio did not work.…
My Mom and Dad were opposites. Mom wanted problems solved immediately. Dad, on the other hand, was a reflective type and he liked “to sleep on things.” Daily routines were important to him. He walked and talked the same speed no matter what. It made for some interesting times.
Near the end of the week I felt confident enough to drive the moped by myself. Glenn and I sprinted out to the “parking lot” where the mopeds were kept. Like a Tour de France Pro, I proudly wheeled the moped out to the street, threw my leg up over the seat and started up the hill.
Our house is well-equipped in the closet department. There is a place for everything, but everything is not in its place. In theory, our basement should be empty — in theory. Despite all this storage area, we still have an “everything closet” filled with linens, photos, computer parts, Christmas wrap, games, and stuff we don’t know what to do with — you get the picture.
I hate to be a wet blanket. (Actually, I am being a warm, fuzzy blanket.) less than a week into the new year BUT, I feel obligated to do my small part to provide important information you may need this week. My big question for you is, “Do you have an up-to-date LAST WILL & TESTAMENT?”
The Lockeport Baptist Church Annual Living Christmas Tree Performances were scheduled for December 2, 3, 4 ― done and over before the madness of the Christmas rush. I joined the choir as a soprano and attended Tuesday and Thursday night practices. A week prior to the first performance I learned the dress code stipulated white tops and black bottoms. Uh-oh. That created a teensy weensy problem. I do not wear white ― off-white, maybe, but NEVER, EVER bright white.
Well this is a first. I am writing my Christmas letter from my family home near Lockeport, Nova Scotia. If I remember correctly, I have not been here for Christmas in over 25 years. I am awash in sights and sounds and smells from the past. Danielle at Lockeport’s Lillian Benham Library invited me to share stories about what Christmas was like in West Head in the 1960s. Once again, tons of happy memories flooded my mind.
Hallmark Christmas cards and movies suggest that choosing and cutting down the family Christmas tree is a warm fuzzy family experience to be cherished for years. Ours was unforgettable, but for different reasons. We did not sit around sipping hot chocolate and nibbling shortbread cookies sharing memories of Christmases past. The “Annual Christmas Tree War” was more suitable.
Last evening, I had the privilege of sharing my story “A 1960s West Head Christmas” at Lockeport’s Lillian Benham Library. I cannot say enough about the wonderful reception I received. The people of Lockeport and the surrounding area have showered me with their support. There really is no place like home. Between now and Christmas I would like to share it with you in sections for your enjoyment. So choose a comfy chair, grab a hot drink and bask in the warmth, coziness…