Not Falling for Halloween Decor

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My minimalist Halloween decor

I’ve made it clear in previous posts that I’m not a big fan of Halloween. When my kids were little, it always caused too much anxiety and excitement, sugar highs followed by colossal meltdowns.

Still, I always felt obligated to participate in the annual ritual of choosing costumes, returning costumes, choosing new costumes, buying hordes of candy, and sprucing up the house come October 1. Dutifully I’d haul up the large orange plastic boxes to the eager impatience of my children.

In our house, the sine qua non of holiday decor was the vinyl window cling. My kids had no end of fun situating these reusable stickers on our sliding glass doors and the front windows of the house. By the end of the season, the glass was covered by sticky fingerprints. I was incredibly cheap about holiday decorations, so our Halloween pumpkins, ghosts etc. didn’t exactly scream, classy. This was fortunate, though, because my children never met a decorative item that they couldn’t find a way to chip or break. We even had a headless Joseph as part of our Christmas manger scene for a while.

Nowadays, with my children grown, I’m much more understated about my Halloween decorations. It takes all of 15 minutes to put them up, and there are no complaints that my little faux trick-or-treaters standing sentinel at the front door are not scary enough. I am, however, in the minority around my neighborhood. People in my town really do it up big for Halloween: lights, inflatables, ghouls hanging from trees, you name it. One house in town is full on decorated for Dia de los Muertos, complete with two female mannequins standing in their front yard wearing festive dresses and Day of the Dead skeleton masks.

Some of the decorations my neighbors put up for Halloween are downright terrifying, and the homeowners even create their own sort of haunted house thrills on Halloween night as trick-or-treaters come by. For instance, my mild-mannered neighbor around the corner comes out from behind his house brandishing a fake chainsaw and chasing hapless candy seekers. this guy is so scary he almost caused my husband to call 911 one year when said hubby approached the house with our kids.

I love fall: the colorful leaves, the scent of woodsmoke, the taste of pumpkin treats, the crisp, cool days. But I can take or leave the Halloween hoopla. Soon it be will time to think about my favorite holiday: Christmas!

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Letting Go

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On this day of the autumnal equinox, we welcome the season of fall. There was a bit of a chill in the air during outdoor yoga this morning as our instructor encouraged us to draw energy from the Earth on which we posed – and at the same time, emulate the autumn trees shedding their leaves by letting go.

I’ve seen this metaphor quite a bit this year, and it’s a lovely image. The trees let go of their leaves, returning them to the earth where they rejuvenate the soil and nourish the very tree itself. Likewise, our minds and hearts can practice letting go of all that is dead in us: thoughts, prejudices, worries, anxieties, anger and fear.

What a graceful release it can be to let go. In child’s pose, we curl ourselves toward the ground. With every breath we surrender control of our bodies, and in doing so give them renewed energy and peace as we sink into Mother Earth.

It can be liberating to let go. So much of our lives is spent with clenched teeth and held breath. We worry about our children, our health, our finances, the weary world. But as Jesus teaches in Matthew 6:27, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

I once heard the mantra, “Let go and let God.” That simple advice has run through my head many times in days of stress and heartache. If you believe that there is a force greater than yourself, a force for good, you will be able to surrender to that force and stop trying to control everything around you.

I know. Easier said than done. Yet I’m confident that if we can let go of our burdens as the trees let go of their leaves this fall, we will be able to move forward with great joy.

Does Dad Need Some Daditude?

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Does your father or husband like to chuckle and/or laugh out loud occasionally? Do you need a last minute Father’s Day gift?

I’ve been listening to a wry, humorous, and heartwarming book of essays titled Daditude by Chris Erskine. Erskine is a Los Angeles Times writer whose columns are syndicated in my hometown Chicago Tribune under the title “The Middle Ages.” I’ve followed Erskine’s musings for a number of years now, and the man is great with a turn of phrase.

Erskine writes about the trials, tribulations, and joys of family, friends, and growing older. His tales about his brood of four kids and his long-suffering wife alternate with stories about a group of incorrigible drinking buddies. In Daditude, though, he has culled a selection of former columns about his family: rites of passage, holidays, childhood memories.

The tone of these essays is always one of tender bemusement. As much as he mocks some of his kids’ excesses (In one story, he claims his younger daughter renamed herself VISA, with a dollar sign for the “S.”), its clear how much he adores his kids and worships his wife, whom he affectionately calls “Posh” in his writing.

In descriptions of Christmases past and summers in LA, of dropping his oldest daughter off at college, and of shopping for the perfect valentine, Erskine notes the details – the little nuances of nature and human nature that many of us miss. For instance, he describes dressing his newborn son: “I can’t seem to thread this kid’s tiny hand through a shirt hole the size of a nostril.” Or the first cool day of fall: “The cool feels good. Like brushing your teeth. Like a snowy kiss.”

Some of the stories are even more poignant in retrospect, as the twin losses of his son and wife in the past two years had not yet happened. The book was published as Erskine’s wife was going through cancer treatment. Even in those columns that described Posh’s illness, Erskine retains some of the gentle humor and wry sense of the world that no doubt has helped him through such tragedy.

I highly recommend Daditude for fathers and mothers and anyone with a heart, really. As Erskine himself says in the foreword of the book, “I hope you devour this book shamelessly, like no one’s watching, like a big gooey pizza at midnight.”

 

Stupid Things To Do In Summer

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Screen_Shot_2017_07_03_at_1.34.23_PM.0.pngWith Memorial Day around the corner, our fancy turns to all things summer. In the spirit of the upcoming season, I’m happy to provide a PSA on what NOT to do this summer. You’re welcome.

This summer, please don’t:

  1. Leave children or pets in hot cars.
  2. Take kids tubing on a lake without a spotter to watch them constantly.
  3. Go out into the woods without being covered in DEET.
  4. Go outside after dark without being covered in DEET.
  5. Leave anyone in a hot car.
  6. Go on a diet during barbecue/ice cream season.
  7. Drink and go boating.
  8. Drink and drive.
  9. Drink and slice watermelon.
  10. Leave mayonnaise-laden foods outside for long periods of time.
  11. Leave children unattended in any body of water.
  12. Play with fireworks.
  13. Go out in the sun without sunscreen.
  14. Fail to hydrate.
  15. Touch any three-leaf patterned plants.

I’m sure there are other potential hazards looking to spoil our summer fun. Lawn mowing, for instance, can be extremely dangerous, especially if you do it in flip flops. Sports related injuries also increase in the summer as the warm weather encourages weekend warriors to get out and run, bike, swim, rollerblade and play frisbee.

With a little common sense, though, we can fully enjoy the glory of long, warm summer days, balmy evenings roasting marshmallows by the fire, and time spent outdoors with family and friends.

So break out your white shorts and start summering it up this Memorial Day! (Safely, please)

Mom-isms

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30741381_1587385254720889_7378585026608234496_nIn honor of Mother’s Day, I’d like to share some of the things my mom tried to teach me as I was growing up:

  1. Beds should be made daily and sheets changed weekly.
  2. Every kitchen counter needs a matching set of canisters.
  3. Men take showers, but ladies take baths.
  4. Leaving a dish or glass in the kitchen sink is a venial sin.
  5. No silliness at the dinner table.
  6. Moms have eyes in the back of their heads.
  7. Close the front door. You’re heating the outdoors.
  8. No reading at the dinner table.
  9. If you cross your eyes, they’ll stay that way.
  10. A dinner should consist of meat, vegetables, and a starch.
  11. Dessert is not optional.
  12. No singing at the dinner table.
  13. The teacher is always right.
  14. No roughhousing inside.
  15. Wash your elbows.
  16. Do it because I said so.
  17. Don’t cry, or I’ll give you something to cry about.

Although I haven’t always kept all of Mom’s “commandments” in my life, my mother’s voice still echoes in my head when I’m running around the house tidying up and making sure the dishes are done. I find myself using her expressions, such as “Stop your dilly-dallying!”

And my mom also taught me:

  1. Honesty is the best policy.
  2. Put others before yourself.
  3. Have a treat at night before bedtime.
  4. Have music in your life.
  5. Work hard.
  6. Be frugal.
  7. Family comes first.
  8. If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
  9. Nurture your faith.
  10. The joys of having children outweigh the pain.

So Happy Mother’s Day to my beloved mother – and to all mothers, both literal and in spirit. May our mothers’ lessons give us the strength and courage to be good women and to nurture the next generation.

In Your Easter Bonnet

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Yesterday at Easter Sunday Mass, I saw something I hadn’t seen in a long time: Easter bonnets! As a female growing up Catholic in the 60s, I was well aware of the requirement that all girls and women cover their heads when entering the church. We girls wore small circlets of lace called chapel veils while some women wore long, flowing mantillas, a Spanish veil. In a pinch, my sisters were known to bobby pin a piece of Kleenex to the tops of their heads!

But at Easter, we got a brand new hat to wear with the pastel Easter dress my mother had sewn each of us girls. I loved my “Easter bonnets” and, remembering them from my own childhood, bought them for my own daughters when they were little. But over the years, wearing hats to Mass has become uncommon. The Catholic stricture for women to cover their heads was removed in 1983. No doubt the chapel veil and mantilla manufacturers cried.

So I was delighted yesterday to see several young girls sporting wide-brimmed white straw hats to complement their Easter dresses. But the piece de resistance was the mother of two bonneted girls, who walked into church sporting a large pink confection that would be perfect for Ascot or the Kentucky Derby. They sat in a pew next to us, and I dubbed them the best dressed family at Easter Sunday Mass.

I realize that hat wearing is still common at some other Christian churches. And Orthodox Jewish women wear hats to synagogue. But for the most part, decorative, fanciful hats for women are a thing of the past. I can’t say I’m all that sorry. I don’t look good in hats and wear them primarily for warmth in winter – or occasionally to shield my face on a hot summer day.

But I do kind of miss the grandeur of the annual Easter bonnet. After all, it inspired a song by the great Irving Berlin. Maybe the bonneted ladies at Mass are starting a trend. Maybe next year I’ll brave it and wear a fanciful hat myself.

How Sweet It Is!

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I’m sorry to say that after giving up dessert for the 40 days of Lent, I haven’t lost my sweet tooth. On the eve of Easter, I can almost taste those dark chocolate marshmallow eggs I crave.

I was really hoping I’d lose my taste for sugar, villain number one according to the latest nutritional advice. It’s sugar, we are increasingly being told, not fat, that we should be avoiding. And I think that’s because as with many things in life, we take our love for sweetness too far.

In the olden days, sugar was a luxury item. It was used sparingly to sweeten coffee or tea. Mother might bake a cake for a special occasion, but people otherwise didn’t get much refined sugar in their diets. In wartime, sugar was one of the things that was rationed.

But as modern technology made all kinds of convenience foods available and cheap, sugary foods and drinks became ubiquitous. One of the biggest sources of calories in the American diet comes from soda pop, which is loaded with sugar. High fructose corn syrup (HFCS) in particular is a molecularly altered sugar that is believed to interact in harmful ways with the human body. (Thanks for that science-y info, cousin Trish!) And HFCS is the main ingredient in most sodas.

And switching to diet drinks does not seem to help people lose weight in the long run. I think that’s because the artificial sweeteners still make us crave sugar. And I think that is behind my annual failure to curb my sweet tooth during Lent. Not having banished all sugar from my diet, I still want it.

Sugar is synonymous with fun and celebration. Every party features sweets: from birthday cakes to Christmas cookies to Easter candy. When I was a child, in the evening while we watched TV we were allowed to pick out a candy bar for “treat time.” Dessert was always the reward for having eaten those horrible green beans. Sweets are the stuff of childhood dreams. Why else would Roald Dahl have written the fantasy Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Why else would the Brothers Grimm imagine a candy-studded gingerbread house to lure the unsuspecting Hansel and Gretel into the witch’s clutches?

Tomorrow the Easter Bunny will leave some delicious chocolate at our house. Luckily, the treats the Bunny brings are far too pricey for me to wolf down in one sitting. So I’ll pace myself (and share with the family). I may never conquer my sweet tooth, but let’s hope my Lenten abstinence from them will help me better appreciate the delights of sugar.

As Shakespeare would say, “Sweets to the sweet!”