Christmas Eve Misery

I'm not sure if I was nine or ten. I do know Christmas was always a big thing at our house. Spices, spruce and bayberry bombarded my senses for weeks prior to the big event. All this pre-holiday preparation led to my most miserable Christmas Eve.

As the days leading up to the 'big one' shortened, my agony grew more intense. The aroma of my mother's baking crept into the seams of the wallpaper. Filled tins were stashed in secret places with the intention of warding off all attacks by my two brothers, my Dad and myself.

My brothers, being six and eight years older delighted in teasing me about what I might or might not receive on Christmas. My father annually repeated the same story about one of his sisters who had received real coal in her stocking. He never actually said it might be my fate, but the message was clear.

Hushed voices behind closed doors after shopping trips intensified the drama. Hiding places eluded me on those times I felt brave enough for clandestine snooping. There was an element of danger of being caught, but one I was willing to risk. After all, there's just so much suspense a child can take without bursting.

On that fateful Christmas Eve things began as usual. Somehow, while the family was at church, the presents miraculously appeared under, on or near the tree. We could only look at the packages. No touching, shaking, lifting or nudging was allowed. Clearly my parents did not understand the torture they were inflicting.

As usual, this night I was shooed to bed at the appointed time with a warning not to arise before I could see daylight. Only after alerting all family members could I race to the treasure trove beneath the bedazzeled spruce.

Going to bed was one thing, sleeping entirely another. I lay tense and wakeful, hearing all household noises until they at last ceased. Only the mantle clock in the living room could be heard above my fathers' snoring.

Now I was safe. I could satisfy my hunger for 'just one peek'. I rationalized that one peek would cure my curiosity and allow sleep to come.

Surveying the piles under, around and near the tree, my eyes attention was caught by a particulary small package hanging on the tree. It was properly addressed to me. I clearly intended to satisfy my curiosity with this brightly adorned titbit.

My fingers lifted the lid to reveal the most perfect ruby ring I'd ever seen. Yes, it fit...with just a little push. Just then a terrible sound met my ears. My brother's car pulled into the drive. My immediate thought was of the coal that surely I'd earned with this transgression. Survival instinct kicked in and I dove under the sofa just as the front door opened.

I was certain that the thumping of my heart would give me away. I tried to take quiet shallow breaths. My brother actually came over and sat on the sofa and did what I didn't know. I was too busy trying to get the ring off and return it to its' box.

The ring would not budge! The more I pulled, the more firmly it stayed on my hand. Such agony was overwhelming. Tears actually started to form.

Still my brother sat there. I remained right under him, his unknown prisoner. The mantle clock reminded him of the lateness of the hour. Finally the lights went out and I could escape from my prison for the safety of bed.

Some soap from the kitchen sink released my ill-gotten treasure and I was able to restore it to its perch.
Christmas morning came with its usual brightness that year to all except one very much wiser little girl who always viewed her new jewelery with bittersweet memories.

Remembering

I remember hopscotch blocks drawn in wavy lines on the sidewalk, easily skipped by me.
Where did I put my car keys?
I remember a squinchy feeling in my gut as the ferris wheel bumped to a stop at the top.
Did I take my pills this morning?
I remember secret hiding spots for treasures found on beach walks when I was eight.
Where is that early birthday present I bought for my grandchild?
I remember at five years old how awful I felt to wait forever for Christmas morning.
Did I mail that check to the doctor?
I remember sharing secrets with my very best friend as we slowly strolled home from school.
Where did I leave my glasses?
I remember a special birthday when led blindfolded, to find a puppy waiting in the garage.
Did I put two teaspoons of vanilla in the cookie recipe?
I remember how proud I was of the special handmade picture I gave my dad on father's day.
Where did I park my car at the mall?
I remember how good I felt being all dressed up and ready to go out on my first boy/girl party.
Did I return the call on my answering machine?
I remember the very first dance recital, seeing the smiles of my proud parents in the first row.
Where did that book I was reading get to?
I remember places and faces and things that meant a lot to me from some days worth remembering.

Maybe the things I don't remember aren't so important after all!

Alaska - Beauty and the Beasts

Traveling the Inland Passage as well as the panoramic views on a train afforded the opportunity to experience this land at its best. It's hard not to use superlatives when describing all there was to offer around us.
Whether it was the roar of calving glaciers, cries of kittewakes from their rocky nests or the splash of killer whales, Glacier Bay held our attention. With the engines shut, our ship became a floating observatory for our senses. Brilliant shades of blue mixed with pristine white and dull gray all combined in this slow moving behemoth.
Watching out the train window, the distant sight of Denali (aka Mt. McKinley) kept us glued for what lay ahead. The bus ride through Denali provided us with an 'up close and personal' encounter with some of its four-footed inhabitants. At one spot we had a 360 degree sighting of caribou, dall sheep, grizzly and moose. The grizzly put on a show as he dug the burrow of a ground squirrel, perhaps for an afternoon snack. Three swipes of his fearsome claws and he was shoulder deep. Later, as we crested a hill, we worried that the cyclist headed down the hill could pedal faster than the sow gizzly and her cubs awaiting him could run.
Taking a helecopter to the Taku Glacier brought a new perspective of the untouched beauty of the land. One chose not to venture too close to the crevasse, not wishing to become a statistic.  Watching a bush pilot touch down and take off in minimal spaces only reinforced the skill needed in this wilderness where roads are few and far between.  
We witnessed a natural phenomenon from our train window as a bore tide kept pace with our travels. The incoming tide and the outgoing river challenge each other. Our tide only reached three feet high, but they are known to reach heights of nearly ten feet.
At a camp we marveled at the close affinity between the sled dogs and their mushers. The dogs eagerly awaited the chance to harness up and take off down the trail. One bit of wisdom from the musher; 'if you're not the lead dog, the view never changes'. Maybe there is a life lesson there.
Other side adventures included tackling a giant burger (fit for three) at the Red Dog Saloon and watching my partner being put in a traveling jail in Fairbanks. A small contribution freed him before our ship sailed.
Be it by ship, train, helecopter, bus or whitewater raft, we saw much of the best the 49th state had to offer. The diverse enviornment of pristine scenery, amazing wildlife and friendly people made this truly a 'go to' spot.

Costa Rican Encounters

     Costa Rica is one of those special places where you can come 'up close and personal' with nature in all its diversity. It didn't take long while walking a path through the rainforest to see the reality of this in an unbelievable experience.
     Looking down at our feet we discovered leaf-cutter ants. Our approach did not divert their determined journey. They pretty much all kept pace with the rest of the group. Their green burden far out measured their minature size. We had obviously violated their territory and so we were careful where we stepped.
     Our senses were heightened with the smell of flowers and abundance of orchids so suited to this climate. Tropical birds were heard but not seen in the canopy overhead. Most amazing were the butterflies. It is recorded that there are more species of them than any other creature about. You couldn't help but be stunned by them. The blue morpho butterfly can reach a size of seven and a half inches. Spread your fingers far apart and you get a good idea of their size. The color was spectacular. The brilliant blue could not be matched by anything else in nature.
     The Sarapiqui river is a draw for whitewater rafters, but we took the slower paced route. This afforded us the opportunity to encounter these creatures around us on their terms. This river is the habitat of crocodiles, iguanas, caymans and even hummingbirds. However, two of its more notable inhabitants are the howler monkeys and the Jesus Christ lizard. The endangered howler monkeys are 'tree huggers', spending their days in the safety of the trees. Because their territory is limited, their numbers are threatened. The male is in charge of keeping the distance between troops by his very loud call that can be heard as far away as four miles. He let us know he was in charge.
     The Jesus Christ lizard (formally called a baslisk) only measures about a foot long. To flee from predators it has been given the ability to 'walk on water', hence its name. This iguana-like companion scooted in front of our boat, tacking a path to the opposite shore. Perhaps it was acting as an early warning system for the others in the area.
     The cayman lazing on the bank of the river paid no mind to our passing. One sleepy eye must have surmised that there was no food worth moving for. On the other hand, parrots and other tropical birds fluttered and kept up a symphony in the canopy overhead. They were well aware of our presence.
     The river trip left little to be experienced for our senses. Unforgettable sights and sounds still remain in memory. I can almost hear those howler monkeys calling me back for another visit to their home.

England - The ABC tour

   My first thoughts when told we would be staying in a stable, next to a graveyard left me more than a little dubious about this trip to 'Jolly Old England'. The reality proved to be far better than I could have hoped for. No animals to share space with, picturesque views of the garden and yes, a quaint historic graveyard. The best part was the short walk through the cemetery to the 'local'. Despite England's less than gourmet reputation, the ploughman's lunches at this pub were outstanding. The cheese, fresh bread and beer needed no apologies.
   Now to explain my husband's designation as the 'ABC' tour. Under the guidance of our relative/tour guide we visited 'Another Bloody Castle'. There was Hever, Sissinghurst, Penshurst and Leeds (referred to as 'the loveliest castle in all the world'. Knole was one more 'castle-like' stop on the tour.
   What seemed common to all were the spectacular gardens, roaming wildlife and birds. Peacocks, guinea hens, swans and ducks took residence everywhere, even when no moat was available. Two other noteworthy places were Chartwell (Winston Churchhills' home) and Batemans (Rudyard Kiplings' abode). Chartwell had an amazing rose garden and Batemans was impressive for the leather-bound walls in the author's study.
   A day trip by train into London proper took us to all the obligatory tourist 'must sees'. Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the Victoria and Albert museum, Trafalgar Square and of course, Harrod's were all on the list. Those dead hanging creatures in Harrod's food court did dull one's appetite but not enough to forgo a spot of cream tea and accompaning scones. Of course, speaking of hanging we had to include The Tower. Under the tutelage of our Beefeater, we learned all about the role played by the wing-clipped ravens and their surrounding legend. Supposedly, if these birds leave, England will fall. No worry, these birds are taken good care of by the ravenmaster. Fresh meat and posing for photos ensure that the five on duty will always have good reason to stay.
   A side trip to Cantebury added one more notch in our literary belts. The cathedral was beyond impressive with its multitude of statues and heraldic shields. The pilgrims must have been taken aback by the grandeur. Murder aside, it was well worth the visit.
   Although I don't think we missed much along the way, two stops did not make the list. A. the dog collar museum and B. getting to toss sticks off Christopher Robin's bridge in the Hundred Acre Wood. Sorry, Winnie the Pooh, maybe next time. As for the dog collars, I apologized to our dog for missing it. I could have taken pictures.
   My version of the ABC tour will remain as "Always Beautiful Countryside". I guess its all in the eye of the beholder.

Motel From Hell

Friday the 13th should have been our first clue as to what lay ahead. Ten hours driving in torrential rain should have sufficed as the prelude to our journey. There were many clues that awaited us as we arrived at our motel. It was late, and although our approach to our lodgings were less than auspicious we failed to heed the signs. Letters missing from the sign out front, crumbling steps leading up to the rooms and a note sending us down the road to a restaurant for our check in. Sustenance became our first priority, so we took time to partake of some reasonably good food.
Returing to our motel, we at first could not believe what awaited when we opened the door. Sparse came to mind. O.K. we were going to be 'out and about' for the next two days, so that we could handle. But what we could not handle was the total lack of cleanliness. The bathroom was dirty, a large bug (found out to be a bee) had taken up residence, there were footprints in the bathtub. No electrical outlet in the room,the only option was to unplug the television in the bedroom. By this time darkness was falling and we discovered no lighting outside the motel. What was discovered was the only other patron sitting on the front porch trying to get cell phone service, in her underwear. There was none of course and no phone in the room. This place was beginning to feel more like the 'Bates Motel' by the moment. We had noticed an A frame chalet that was directly behind the motel up a disused footpath. Two eerily shining lights  were all that could be seen. Now we were bringing to mind 'Freddy Kruger'.
Turning down the bed linens led to the disgusting fact that the sheets had not been changed. Someone shared the bed first. Off came the bedspread, blanket and sheets. Turning over the bottom sheet, we failed to notice the fecal material. A blanket from the car sufficed as a covering. The only thing missing was the presence of bed bugs. Guess they knew better! Lucky us! It was too late to search out another place to stay so a restless night ensued. Because of our uneasy feeling a suitcase was jammed under the double locked door.
Morning arrived none too soon. A trip back to the restaurant (sheet in tow), we hoped to meet with our errant innkeeper, but of course that was not possible. Besides, wine awaited us. Who should we find at our first wine tour stop but the man himself. He readily agreed to refund the second night's stay and didn't want the sheet we'd brought with us. "Poor cleaning help" was the only explanation he made. He was happy to see us on our way and not looking for the nearest lawyer. If Keuka Lake is ever on your tour destination, be warned, the Keuka Lake Motel is one to totally avoid.

Mother's Day Musings

     My mother was a person of many adjectives: proud, creative, secretive, generous, a good cook and much much more. She loved arranging flowers, did canning and enjoyed being in the kitchen. She was generous to others but sometimes didn't let her generosity go unnoticed. Her pride got in the way of making peace with one son while favoring the other. She loved to paint (artistically). I remember her sewing much of my wardrobe. Knitted throws still used today and the legacy of her organ playing remain.
     I never understood was she was so opposed to my finding out about my birth mother. She saw herself as a 'peacemaker' between her feuding sisters (seven in all), but actually did take sides on issues. The favoritism of one son over the other lasted a lifetime and resulted in the two never really making peace with one another. She never really got along with my father's family. And of course, she loved to talk.
     It's said that you learn what to do and also what not to do from your parents. Hopefully there are lessons learned by remembering that woman in your life on this the weekend of Mother's Day. Love you Mother (she never wanted to be called 'Mom').