My 29th birthday has recently passed ( for the umpteenth time), promoting me to greater status as one of the more “mature” members of my family. Depending on who you ask, the word mature could mean aging gracefully. It could also draw a laugh from those who know me best. Personally I use the word tongue- in- cheek, however, because at heart I am a Toys R Us kid and don’t really want to grow up!
With an ailing octogenarian mother, and a father in law who is…well whatever you call someone who will soon be 90… life has both blessed and defeated me at times, but in either case has always been interesting. And I have learned A LOT. My husband and I each lost a parent in our early thirties, and with them were lost countless stories, advice, and family heritage that we can never get back.
I am praying that this blog will enable those three things, along with my love of country ( America, the décor, as well as the physical place) to be captured in the minds and hearts of those who care to read, but most importantly, as a family record for my two young -adult children.
Today is December 1st, and for me the holidays are already in full swing. Each year’s festivities begin at my mountain home in Pennsylvania on Thanksgiving Day. The day begins with stuffing and putting at 22 pound turkey into the oven, before running off to the local high school football game to freeze our toes (and other parts) off. There’s nothing better than returning to a warm home smelling of roasting turkey and knowing relatives and friends are on their way to join us….and watch the comedies that tend to ensue in the kitchen. Like the year our golden retriever, Chewy, broke into my school bag and proceeded to eat two Claritin D tablets while we were at the football game. Before we were reaching for pumpkin pie, she was already feverish, and appeared to be moon walking on the kitchen floor. The ability to walk forward seemed to have left her. Several calls to the poison control center and locating an emergency medical center for dogs brought dinner to an end as my daughter and I rushed Chewy to the hospital. I am guessing you have, by now, figured out why she was named Chewy? After several hours of IV and charcoal, Chewy showed improvement, and returned home to spend many more years eating things as if she were part goat. My daughter once convinced a high school friend she WAS part goat. It was truly too hard to tell him the truth through my fits of laughter.
Today I give thanks once again for my loveable, crazy family and pets ( have you ever seen Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase?) When my daughter and Husband returned home with the biggest tree we have ever had this past weekend, I HAD to ask if there was a squirrel in it?! But that’s a story for another time.
A warm country hug to all,