dual personalities

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

by chuckofish

tomandchris

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This is a picture of handsome Tom and Chris which I put out every Christmas. A good memory of Christmas Past on 231. I must say the tree looks pretty sad! I guess my mother had given up on tree perfection by that point. I have no doubt that the tree was beautiful “in real life”. You know what I mean. I’m sure we oohed and ahhhed about the tree.

And how cute are these guys?

Pinecone elves from Martha Stewart

Pinecone elves from Martha Stewart

If I were the crafty type, I would be all over these.

But I’m just not anymore. This is more my speed: a candle in an old cup and saucer with fake berries. But it looks nice!

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I like decorating for Christmas with vintage photos of my family up close and personal with Santa.

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I am not big on pictures of my children everywhere throughout the house…except at Christmas. Then (for some reason) it’s appropriate.

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I used to send my children’s class pictures to my out-of-town friends. Once one of them sent them back to me in the form of Christmas ornaments, which I thought was awe-some.

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As you can see, I (try to) take things slowly in the month of December, taking out my decorations gradually. Still ahead? Trees!

So give us joyful, cheerful hearts to the glory of Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

What’s going on here?

by chuckofish

Christmas cacti are kind of the perfect plants. You put so little effort into them, and they reward you with such extravagant gifts!

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Gosh almighty, aren’t they something?

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Well, I for one would not want to let their heroics go unnoticed! Bravo.

Here’s a little something I found tucked away in an upstairs closet the other day.

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A Charlie Brown Christmas snow globe! How nice to discover an ‘old’ decoration which seems ‘new’ again!

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I haven’t watched A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965) yet this year, but it’s a good idea. I was in the fourth grade when it debuted, the first animated Peanuts special (and still the best). It is astonishing to me that Charles Schulz got away with having Linus explain the true meaning of Christmas by actually reciting Luke 2:8-14 from the King James Version of the Bible. It is a modern miracle. The success of the show was and continues to be a perfect vindication. (A total of 50% of the televisions in the United States were tuned to the first broadcast. A Charlie Brown Christmas won an Emmy and a Peabody award, and is today considered to be one of the most beloved animated holiday specials of all time.)

Out of the mouths of babes, as they say:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'”

That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

Flyover weekend II

by chuckofish

This past weekend my best Grace girlfriends and I headed out of town for our second annual flyover roadtrip.

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We stayed in the same log cabin Bed and Breakfast that we visited last year. We were greeted by some old friends.

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The honeysuckle was blooming…on December 1!

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The house was decorated for Christmas and looked lovely.

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We spent Saturday afternoon investigating antique malls and shops in Washington, Missouri, a nice old river town. I never laid eyes on a true antique, but I saw lots of fun vintage items and piles of junk. But that is the expectation. I found a Christmas present for the boy and lots of other things I restrained myself from buying, like these guys:

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That night we sat on the porch–it was 71-degrees–and enjoyed the sunset.

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We played Scattergories and attempted to play cards, but that was so much work. In other words, we had to choose between playing cards or drinking wine. It was an easy choice for me.

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On Sunday we had a wonderful breakfast

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and then went to Hermann, Missouri, another lively town on the Missouri River. We hit the Kristkindl Markt again and were as successful as last year.

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It is the beginning of December and I am in good shape (spiritually and commercially) for Christmas. I will not have to go near a mall. I can now concentrate on awaiting the birth of our Lord and Savior in the season of Advent in a relatively calm state of mind. I hope this feeling lasts!

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Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high, And cheer us by your drawing nigh,
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

A Monday pick-me-up

by chuckofish

wayne301

We went three and four afternoons a week, sat on folding chairs in the darkened hut which served as a theatre, and it was there, that summer of 1943 while the hot wind blew outside, that I first saw John Wayne. Saw the walk, heard the voice. Heard him tell the girl in a picture called War of the Wildcats that he would build her a house, ‘at the bend in the river where the cottonwoods grow’.
As it happened I did not grow up to be the kind of woman who is the heroine in a Western, and although the men I have known have had many virtues and have taken me to live in many places I have come to love, they have never been John Wayne, and they have never taken me to that bend in the river where the cottonwoods grow. Deep in that part of my heart where the artificial rain forever falls, that is still the line I wait to hear.

–Joan Didion, John Wayne, a Love Song

One dual personality attempts Christmas charity

by chuckofish

but only manages ¡Feliz cumpleaños! (that’s Happy Birthday, I believe”). The community giving tree card, which I chose at random, told me to buy either a “Disney princess” or “Dora” present for a three year old girl. With visions of the dreaded “pink aisle” dancing in my head, I braved Walmart on a Saturday afternoon to find the right gift. As the mother of three boys, I had hitherto managed to avoid the unspeakably awful pepto-bismol pink aisle — let alone the pre-Christmas orgy of pink plastic.

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The Disney Princess stuff was completely unsuitable for a three year old. Not only was it all bosomy blonds and tacky shocking pink, but every toy had lots of tiny, swallowable parts. I sought advice from women with small children and was eventually shown the (not very cute, but much more suitable) Dora dolls.

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“Aha!” though I. “I’m saved!” Feeling somewhat smug, I finished my shopping and went home. Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that I had purchased the “Happy Birthday” Dora doll, complete with bi-lingual singing! Oh, well, I guess a three year old won’t care, but her poor parent might be a little confused. Better luck next year…

A little holiday cheer

by chuckofish

It’s December! Time to get out the Christmas decorations and start to panic about finding presents for everyone on your list! And what better way to kick off the season than with a vintage photo of the dual personalities enjoying some Christmas cheer?

dual personalities

And speaking of holiday cheer…in our house when I was growing up, the tipple of choice on Christmas was Harvey’s Bristol Cream or Dry Sack.

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The bottles weren’t so fancy then, but the sherry was delicious. Once we were past the thrills of childhood, Christmas became relaxed and civilized. We got up late, had a leisurely breakfast, opened the stockings, got dressed, and eventually started on the presents, most of which came with elaborate home-made cards, including poems, quizzes, and all manner of chicanery. Shortly after noon we would take a break and open the sherry — the present opening often extended into the early afternoon. There was much hilarity, not all of it alcohol induced by any means. Perfect days.

We have maintained that tradition pretty well in my household, albeit the sherry drinking has been reserved for the adults, which now number three. And I confess, we do not always run to Harvey’s or Dry Sack but sometimes go for something more pedestrian like Taylor’s golden sherry, which is serviceable and inexpensive.

Don’t let the amount of shopping, baking, and holiday associated commercialism prevent you from enjoying a wonderful family time. When thinks get crazy, just stop, lock the doors and turn off the phones, get in some comfy clothes, put on some relaxing music, grab a civilizing tipple, and remember to enjoy yourselves (in moderation, of course!).

This and that

by chuckofish

Bloggers are fond of featuring gift ideas ‘n such at this time of year. I will desist from compiling a guide of that type, but I do want to point this out:

A literary map of the U.S.A.! (available here) Really, some people are just so clever!

I have yet to blog about any Christmas movies, and last night I had planned to watch (the original, of course) Miracle on 34th Street (1947), starring Maureen O’Hara, John Payne, Edmund Gwen, and little Natalie Wood.

I was inspired after daughters #1 and #2 blogged about this year’s Macy’s parade balloons which they saw up-close and personal this year.

But, lo and behold, the movie was missing from my stash of Christmas movies! Everything else was there on the shelf, but no 1947 Miracle on 34th Street! Really, this is just the worst, isn’t it? When you’re all set to watch something and someone has borrowed it and not returned it! Grrrrr. This put me in a very grumpy mood.

Well, back to the drawing board.

Did you know that there is a Richard Scarry tumblr? Well, there is. It’s called Busy, Busy World, what else?

I have been a Richard Scarry fan for a very long time. I was still getting Richard Scarry books for Christmas well into high school. Yes, indeed, I was. Instant cheer up.

Massacre at Sand Creek

by chuckofish

Today is the 148th anniversary of the Sand Creek Massacre in Colorado.

You can read about it here. It is a sad episode in American history, in which our family played a small part. Our great-great grandmother’s brother, John Wesley Prowers, a southern Colorado cattleman credited with bringing the first Hereford breeds into the territory, was 26 at the time, a married man with two daughters, Susan and Mary.

He’s a lot older here, but you get the idea.

His wife, Amache Ochinee, was a full-blooded Cheyenne Indian, the daughter of one of Black Kettle’s sub-chiefs, One Eye. In 1864 Chief One Eye had negotiated a truce between the Cheyenne and Arapaho and the U.S. government. According to the truce the Cheyenne were guaranteed a safe camping area for the winter at their reservation along Sand Creek. But on the morning of November 28 soldiers from the Colorado First Volunteer Calvary rode onto the Prowers ranch and held the Prowers family and seven cow-hands hostage, under house arrest. Early the next morning at the camp along Sand Creek, Colonel John Chivington ordered his regiment to attack the Indians despite the fact that an American flag flew over their camp. The massacre claimed the lives of 150 Cheyenne and Arapaho. Among the dead was Chief One Eye, John Prowers father-in-law. John Prowers was later called by the government to testify at the investigation held at Fort Lyon.

Kit Carson, a close family friend of the Houghs and the Prowers, had this to say about the terrible events:

Jis to think of that dog Chivington and his dirty hounds, up thar at Sand Creek. His men shot down squaws, and blew the brains out of little innocent children. You call sich soldiers Christians, do ye? And Indians savages? What der yer ‘spose our Heavenly Father, who made both them and us, thinks of these things? I tell you what, I don’t like a hostile red skin any more than you do. And when they are hostile, I’ve fought ’em, hard as any man. But I never yet drew a bead on a squaw or papoose, and I despise the man who would.

Old Kit describes it pretty succinctly I’d say.

In an attempt to make reparations to the Indians, the U.S. government gave a 640-acre parcel of land to each of the survivors. Amache, her mother and the Prowers’ two oldest daughters were each given tracts along the Arkansas River, on which, along with other Cheyenne lands, John Prowers ran his cattle. The young Cheyenne dog soldiers who terrorized the countryside following the Massacre, left the Prowers alone.

I am happy to know that my ancestors were the “good guys” and not on the side of that dog, Chivington. Years later, Amache attended a meeting of the Eastern Star in Denver and someone brought Colonel Chivington over to meet her and asked, “Mrs. Prowers, do you know Colonel Chivington?” Ignoring his outstretched hand, she looked him straight in the eye, “Know Colonel Chivington? I should. He murdered my father.”

John and Amache Prowers had nine children. All those who lived to adulthood went to college. John died in 1884 at the age of 46 and a few years later when a new county was created by the Colorado General Assembly, they named it after the great cattleman.

Kick it off, Katie

by chuckofish

Since we have been on the subject of hymns lately, I will perk up your Wednesday with this rendition of What a Friend We Have in Jesus by The Purple Hulls. It has been recorded by everyone from Aretha Franklin to Alan Jackson to John Tesh (!), but I like this version.

The Purple Hulls are a band of siblings and that’s one reason their harmony is so great. They also do a nice instrumental version of Be Thou My Vision, which was always a favorite hymn of mine and which we sang in our school chapel (sans banjo).

(A hat tip to the wonderful Hay Quaker blog where I am always discovering new things, such as The Purple Hulls.)

And a special birthday shout out to the boy who turns 26 today!

He has always been a fine young man. This picture reminds us, to paraphrase the great Pete Townshend, that all the best cowboys have Chinese eyes.

A settled rest: Isaac Watts remembered

by chuckofish

Yesterday the Episcopal Church remembered Isaac Watts (July 17, 1674 – November 25, 1748), preacher, pastor and a prolific and popular hymn writer, often recognized as the “Father of English Hymnody” and credited with some 750 hymns. It is also worth noting that he was the first hymn-writer to give expression to the Reformation emphasis on a personal appropriation of the faith by using first person pronouns in hymnody.

Watts, unable to go to either Oxford or Cambridge on account of his non-conformity, went to the Dissenting Academy at Stoke Newington in 1690, and much of his life centered around that village, which is now part of Inner London.

London’s only public statue to Isaac Watts is in Abney Park, Stoke Newington.

He is honored with a memorial in Westminster Abbey.

Among his more enduring hymns are Jesus Shall Reign, Joy to the World, Oh God, Our Help in Ages Past, and I Sing the Mighty Power of God. One of my favorites has always been My Shepherd Will Supply My Need especially the last verse:

The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days;
O may Thy house be my abode,
And all my work be praise.
There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come;
No more a stranger, nor a guest,
But like a child at home.

Marilynne Robinson (see yesterday’s post) quotes Watts in Gilead:

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

“Good old Watts,” she writes. “I’ve thought about that verse often. I have always wondered what relationship this present reality bears to an ultimate reality.”

A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone…

Truly they don’t write hymns like that anymore, do they?

Enjoy! (the choir of the Washington National Cathedral)

God of truth and grace, who didst give Isaac Watts singular gifts to present thy praise in verse, that he might write psalms, hymns and spiritual songs for thy Church: Give us grace joyfully to sing thy praises now and in the life to come; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.