Eva Pasco's Blog - Posts Tagged "holidays"
Home Sweet Home
Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays,
'Cause no matter how far away you roam,
When you pine for the sunshine of a friendly gaze,
For the holidays, you can't beat home, sweet home.
*From: “(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays”; published: 1954; best-known recordings by Perry Como
The lyrics may hold true for many of us. For some, heading home for the holidays is stressful. Assuming there’s no place like home, where exactly is “home” for the rest of the year?
If home is where the heart is, I feel at home in my native state of Rhode Island which affords me access to the ocean, my favorite place to be. Throughout my childhood and young adulthood, I felt at home in the town of Lincoln. In that regard, I’m glad I preserved details of the past by writing/publishing my nonfiction memoir collection, '100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s' (2017).
I never felt at home in South Kingstown where I resided for 15 years because most of that stretch was spent out of town during my teaching career. These days, while my abode is homey, I can’t say I feel at home in the town of East Providence either, a stranger among many who keep to ourselves in an apartment complex.
I’ve come to believe that “home sweet home” is not tied to any particular place. It’s a headspace where we bask in the sunshine as we define it. Until we’re comfortable in our own headspace, books provide an outlet for us to lose and find ourselves while homeward bound.
Eva’s Byte #287 – For the Birds
Oh, by gosh, by golly
It’s time for mistletoe and holly
(Lyrics to “Mistletoe and Holly,” a 1957 Christmas song recorded and co-written by Frank Sinatra)
***
A little early to ring in the holidays, but they’ll be here soon enough.
Like so many of us, I’m spending more time at home in self-isolation during the pandemic. It has behooved me to nest by surrounding myself with bits and baubles which connote and promote a sense of peace, tranquility, and harmony.
For instance, my miniature Christmas trees. Over the years, I’ve acquired a smattering of them ranging from 6 – 24 inches in height:
A tree comprised of tiny cellophane packages
A tinsel tree of holly and berries
A tree made from pine cones, interspersed with berries
A dainty evergreen decorated with red ball ornaments and red bows
An evergreen with pine cones and berries, to which I’ve added felt mini mice on the branches.
Since I love to surround myself with objects from nature, both the pine cone tree and mouse critter tree stay in place all year round.
This brings me around to yesterday’s acquisition from Amazon, shown in the photo, and out for delivery. I intend to display this tree on the surface of a large storage bin located to the right of my desk in my office. There, it will remain all year beside a small bin containing my dearly departed Hope’s memorabilia.
By gosh, by golly, soon after I determine the spread of its branches, I’ll be ordering a set of miniature birds to perch on them—before it’s time for mistletoe and holly, that’s for sure.
As we round the bend to the holidays, may each of you nest to your heart’s contentment.
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
It’s time for mistletoe and holly
(Lyrics to “Mistletoe and Holly,” a 1957 Christmas song recorded and co-written by Frank Sinatra)
***
A little early to ring in the holidays, but they’ll be here soon enough.
Like so many of us, I’m spending more time at home in self-isolation during the pandemic. It has behooved me to nest by surrounding myself with bits and baubles which connote and promote a sense of peace, tranquility, and harmony.
For instance, my miniature Christmas trees. Over the years, I’ve acquired a smattering of them ranging from 6 – 24 inches in height:
A tree comprised of tiny cellophane packages
A tinsel tree of holly and berries
A tree made from pine cones, interspersed with berries
A dainty evergreen decorated with red ball ornaments and red bows
An evergreen with pine cones and berries, to which I’ve added felt mini mice on the branches.
Since I love to surround myself with objects from nature, both the pine cone tree and mouse critter tree stay in place all year round.
This brings me around to yesterday’s acquisition from Amazon, shown in the photo, and out for delivery. I intend to display this tree on the surface of a large storage bin located to the right of my desk in my office. There, it will remain all year beside a small bin containing my dearly departed Hope’s memorabilia.
By gosh, by golly, soon after I determine the spread of its branches, I’ll be ordering a set of miniature birds to perch on them—before it’s time for mistletoe and holly, that’s for sure.
As we round the bend to the holidays, may each of you nest to your heart’s contentment.
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Eva’s Byte #289 – The Reminder
For me, more than ever, the upcoming holidays are a welcome reminder ‘tis the season for compassion and generosity of spirit.
Every once in a while—earlier this week, for me—the reminder to view a situation from a different perspective by putting myself in someone else’s shoes for a moment, smacked me upside the head.
As mentioned in previous blogs, one of my ways of coping with the raging pandemic has been to surround myself with bits and baubles which connote and promote a sense of peace, tranquility, and harmony. Hence, my recent acquisition of miniature, artificial Christmas trees to decorate in all-year-round themes: mice; birds.
You might say, I branched out when I recently acquired an artificial 4-ft. Douglas fir, now standing bare-branched between my dining and living area. Having chosen the decorative theme of gnomes, I placed an order for one on Etsy, November 1st, happy to support an Indie entrepreneur with lots of 5-Star reviews. Since the item should have shipped on the 4th, but did not, I messaged an inquiry to the merchant. She responded within minutes.
The honest and heartfelt content of her brief note constituted a tearjerker. In summation, she had to make an emergency out-of-town trip because her daughter’s husband, who has cancer, is only expected to live a few more days. And, she’d brought the materials with her to craft my gnome, which she intends to mail the next day.
Of course, I replied in kind. As you already know, that’s beside the point. Though age-old, the point should never be forgotten about how none of us know what others are going through. Often, it takes an angel who walks among us, to bring home the familiar, yet poignant reminder of extending compassion and generosity of spirit to others all year round.
If you happen to adore gnomes like I do, and perchance collect them, when you boop a gnome on the nose, it’s good luck. Just sayin’…
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Every once in a while—earlier this week, for me—the reminder to view a situation from a different perspective by putting myself in someone else’s shoes for a moment, smacked me upside the head.
As mentioned in previous blogs, one of my ways of coping with the raging pandemic has been to surround myself with bits and baubles which connote and promote a sense of peace, tranquility, and harmony. Hence, my recent acquisition of miniature, artificial Christmas trees to decorate in all-year-round themes: mice; birds.
You might say, I branched out when I recently acquired an artificial 4-ft. Douglas fir, now standing bare-branched between my dining and living area. Having chosen the decorative theme of gnomes, I placed an order for one on Etsy, November 1st, happy to support an Indie entrepreneur with lots of 5-Star reviews. Since the item should have shipped on the 4th, but did not, I messaged an inquiry to the merchant. She responded within minutes.
The honest and heartfelt content of her brief note constituted a tearjerker. In summation, she had to make an emergency out-of-town trip because her daughter’s husband, who has cancer, is only expected to live a few more days. And, she’d brought the materials with her to craft my gnome, which she intends to mail the next day.
Of course, I replied in kind. As you already know, that’s beside the point. Though age-old, the point should never be forgotten about how none of us know what others are going through. Often, it takes an angel who walks among us, to bring home the familiar, yet poignant reminder of extending compassion and generosity of spirit to others all year round.
If you happen to adore gnomes like I do, and perchance collect them, when you boop a gnome on the nose, it’s good luck. Just sayin’…
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Eva’s Byte #292 – Stardust Memories
Inspired by “Stardust,” a song recorded by Nat King Cole in 1957.
Stealing across the meadows of my heart, the refrain of stardust memories from Christmases of yesteryear during childhood and adolescence.
One stardust memory, in particular, was joy riding through cities dressed in holiday style. Streets adorned with garlands strung from one side to the other, and centered by wreaths dangling in the middle formed a never-ending arch.
At the urging of my mother, sister and I, my dad would oblige our request to take off to find the bright lights. We’d file in our station wagon and assume our usual positions, my sister and I at opposite ends in the back seat.
Off we’d go hither, thither, and yon to Providence, Pawtucket, or Cranston on any given evening leading up to Christmas.
Our favorite excursion, by far, was Garden City in Cranston.
Another favorite stardust memory is how my father went to great lengths in perpetuating our belief in magic. As cited in my Nonfiction Memoir collection, 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s—Memoir #69 -The Christmas Conspiracy:
In 1961, for my sister’s benefit, my father got the notion to drive us to Boston on Christmas Eve where Santa was purported to have been holed up to greet boys and girls. My sister cast a pall over my father’s good intentions as soon as he pulled out of the driveway, whining her concerns about whether we’d be home in time for her to fall asleep before Santa came down our chimney.
By the time we arrived at Boston Commons, having spotted Santa mingling with children who’d also made the pilgrimage, my father plowed through a throng of people. He approached the red-suited fella, pointed to where we stood, and bent Santa’s ear long enough to persuade him to tell my sister he wouldn’t be taking off for the star-studded skies until much later. When it was her turn to tick off her wish list and tell him what a good girl she’d been all year, Santa allayed her fears and winked at my father.
*At this juncture in time when a pandemic modifies our holiday gathering plans, it’s more important than ever to haul out the holly, put up the tree, and make merry to create stardust memories.
My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Stealing across the meadows of my heart, the refrain of stardust memories from Christmases of yesteryear during childhood and adolescence.
One stardust memory, in particular, was joy riding through cities dressed in holiday style. Streets adorned with garlands strung from one side to the other, and centered by wreaths dangling in the middle formed a never-ending arch.
At the urging of my mother, sister and I, my dad would oblige our request to take off to find the bright lights. We’d file in our station wagon and assume our usual positions, my sister and I at opposite ends in the back seat.
Off we’d go hither, thither, and yon to Providence, Pawtucket, or Cranston on any given evening leading up to Christmas.
Our favorite excursion, by far, was Garden City in Cranston.
Another favorite stardust memory is how my father went to great lengths in perpetuating our belief in magic. As cited in my Nonfiction Memoir collection, 100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s—Memoir #69 -The Christmas Conspiracy:
In 1961, for my sister’s benefit, my father got the notion to drive us to Boston on Christmas Eve where Santa was purported to have been holed up to greet boys and girls. My sister cast a pall over my father’s good intentions as soon as he pulled out of the driveway, whining her concerns about whether we’d be home in time for her to fall asleep before Santa came down our chimney.
By the time we arrived at Boston Commons, having spotted Santa mingling with children who’d also made the pilgrimage, my father plowed through a throng of people. He approached the red-suited fella, pointed to where we stood, and bent Santa’s ear long enough to persuade him to tell my sister he wouldn’t be taking off for the star-studded skies until much later. When it was her turn to tick off her wish list and tell him what a good girl she’d been all year, Santa allayed her fears and winked at my father.
*At this juncture in time when a pandemic modifies our holiday gathering plans, it’s more important than ever to haul out the holly, put up the tree, and make merry to create stardust memories.
My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
Eva’s Byte #447 – Do You Hear What I Hear?
And, do you read between the lines of dialogue?
It’s the writer’s social conscience to delve below the surface of the human condition.
The other day:
Turned off by the commercialization of holidays which capitalizes on spending as opposed to the rightful emphasis on spirituality and extending goodwill to humankind, I overheard a supermarket conversation that roasted my chestnuts over an open fire.
Insensitive to the narrow dividing line between the haves and have-nots, two people in a checkout lane expounded, loud and proud, over the number of people expected to gather at their respective Thanksgiving feasts.
In stark contrast to the illusion of abundance for all, food pantries can’t stock supplies fast enough to accommodate those in need. Then, by choice or by circumstance, many will spend Thanksgiving Day alone.
In the capacity of a writer, I finished drafting chapter 45 (1787 words) along the last lap of my Contemporary work in progress. I’ve begun composing chapter 46 (200 words thus far).
*In gratitude, may each of us be thankful for life’s bare-bones necessities which are hard to come by for many.
All the other stuff is just gravy.
My sincere appreciation to you for reading this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: http://www.authorsden.com/evapasco
It’s the writer’s social conscience to delve below the surface of the human condition.
The other day:
Turned off by the commercialization of holidays which capitalizes on spending as opposed to the rightful emphasis on spirituality and extending goodwill to humankind, I overheard a supermarket conversation that roasted my chestnuts over an open fire.
Insensitive to the narrow dividing line between the haves and have-nots, two people in a checkout lane expounded, loud and proud, over the number of people expected to gather at their respective Thanksgiving feasts.
In stark contrast to the illusion of abundance for all, food pantries can’t stock supplies fast enough to accommodate those in need. Then, by choice or by circumstance, many will spend Thanksgiving Day alone.
In the capacity of a writer, I finished drafting chapter 45 (1787 words) along the last lap of my Contemporary work in progress. I’ve begun composing chapter 46 (200 words thus far).
*In gratitude, may each of us be thankful for life’s bare-bones necessities which are hard to come by for many.
All the other stuff is just gravy.
My sincere appreciation to you for reading this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: http://www.authorsden.com/evapasco
