Good Intentions and Where They Often Lead

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Of course, I intended to post something special with a Merry Christmas wish to all. We can see where those intentions landed me. While I contemplate the sad way I strayed from the better path, I am reminded of another aphorism: "Pride goeth before a fall." I hasten to add there was no literal tumbling to ground or floor involved. This, alone, is reason to be grateful. Instead, I have been forced to reevaluate my capacity for recovery. I recall that in a particularly cheeky mood while in the hospital, I even said to someone: "I have recovered from seven major surgeries in my life. I think I understand this process fairly well." Hah! Lesson learned: never underestimate the toll the passing years take on our strength and resilience. Yes, I know it's been less than two months since I left the hospital, but....

As if these lessons were not enough to digest, I am reexamining my original determination to avoid writing about my recovery. I imagined myself limiting my posts to cheery notes about interesting things going on around me and leaving my feelings about being incapacitated to the imaginations of any interested enough to contemplate my progress. Alas, I lack the energy, imagination, will...whatever. My days are long, yet the weeks fly by. I long for the activities I had come to treasure: long morning or evening walks with camera in hand; hours lost in processing photos and endless experimentation with shooting techniques or immersion in Photoshop tutorials; frequent blogging and a vigorous web conversation.

Instead, long fights with boredom, depression, pain, and hopelessness are punctuated with glimpses of ambition, determination, and optimism. Change isn't always easy. Aren't we peculiar creatures? We long for adventure, resist sameness and repetition yet, all too often, we balk at new developments in our lives and flail about in futile attempts to reconstruct what was when what is proves uncomfortable.

Our Christmas was extremely modest and quiet. It began with the sunrise pictured above, was propelled along with wind gusts of up to 30 mph throughout the day, and ended with a torrential downpour. We had the beef and vegetables in the crock pot by 8:00 AM. Then, before 9, I had the fresh bread in the oven. While the wind roared, I stayed tucked inside where the fireplace cheered the great room. Mostly, I amused myself by alternately watching sticky sweet and predictable Hallmark movies (odd that they they all have almost exactly the same plot) and marveling as backyard and patio items were tossed about by the wind gusts.

All in all, it wasn't the best Christmas I have ever had, but it was a long way from the worst. I hope yours was merry and memorable for all the right reasons and I wish you you the Happiest ever New Year!

An Old-Fashioned Christmas

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The Husband and I didn’t have any big plans for our Christmas, but we knew what we were having for dinner (the buffalo meat was on the counter thawing) and we planned to finish the 2008 Christmas Card Project—late, yes, but we hoped to be forgiven for the slip-up this year.

We had read all the storm warnings and it certainly sounded as though we were in for a big one, this time. But, typical of weather predictions, the forecast was way off and instead of “up to” twelve inches of snow, we got about two inches. There was something the weather channel didn’t predict, however, and that was the power failure. The power went off just before 4:00 PM and didn’t come back on in our part of Bear Valley Springs until 5:30 AM this morning.

(Stupid me, I had my computer on when the power failed—trying to get those last photos printed, along with the postcard inserts containing all our new contact information. The computer is fine, by the way, and I am busily printing again today.)

When it became clear that the power failure wasn’t to be a momentary glitch, we set about our preparations for coping. Using the battery-operated lanterns, we scrounged through the garage looking for the candles and the candle-holders that we knew were there somewhere. While we found the candles, we ended up mostly devising makeshift holders.

Our Christmas evening was our quietest ever. We had never had a completely candlelit Christmas. It’s one we will remember. After spreading the candles about and getting all the fireplaces going, we enjoyed Christmas evening—even if we did have simple bowls of soup for our Christmas dinner. It made us think of what Christmas was like long ago.