Christmas Confessions & Secrets

It was brought to my attention the other day that I haven’t confessed to all my Christmas Secrets. No, I’m not talking about the pony, that one is a given. I’m talking about my secrets to insuring having the Most Beautiful Christmas Tree Ever.

I’ve disclosed my belief “more lights/more better, too many lights/most best” ---grammar people please breathe into this paper bag, I’m playing with superlatives intentionally. Yes, I’m aware I misused “by” last week when I really meant “buy,” and I have properly chastised myself for it, and promise to never do it again---where was I? Oh, right—too many lights most best.

I’ve even confessed to wadding up stands of lights and shoving them in amongst the branches to really make the interior of the tree glow. I’ve reminded you, Gentle Reader, to follow all Underwriters Laboratory safety guidelines, to use extension cords properly and to apply copious amounts of sunblock. What I forgot to mention was my master plan to defeat the laws of nature; gravity, specifically.

My Christmas tree often ends up, not in front of a window, but jammed into a tight corner. That means that all my boxes and boxes and boxes of sparkly Christmas Cr** ornaments are only able to be displayed on—at most (excuse me while a do a little mental math here: 75% of 360* ...of a seven-foot tall noble fir...carry the one...) Anyway, suffice it to say I hang a whole bunch of stuff on the front of the tree and not very much on the back of the tree...and that afore-mentioned gravity? It’s a thing.

Behold the Christmas Tree Tragedy of 2006. It occurred in super slow motion right in front of me; the tree began to list and lean, and without so much as a “Timber!” crashed onto the dining room table, whilst I sat there, doing my best Gob-smacked Goldfish impression.

Because I have cats, the ornaments were securely fastened to the tree, so most of the damage occurred to ornaments that impacted the edge of the table. Alas, poor glass turtle that lost his head! Adios to my hand painted, blown-glass heart collection! Rest in pieces, favorite Snowman!

Every year since then the tree has been securely tethered to the wall via a clever combination of screws in the wall and hi-test fishing line; Designer Fishing Line if you will.

There. Now you know all my secrets.

Merry Christmas!

Busy Busy Busy

I’ve been kinda busy lately. I’ve discovered a new passion-- an obsession really-- with small release, independent, art films. I view, and then review these films, watching them again and again, and often send comments to both the producers and the star.

Ok, full confession—I’m watching SnapChat videos of my grandson and texting his parents, but it does take up a lot of my time. And if it weren’t for the transitory nature of these videos—SnapChat videos poof! after a set number of views/amount of time—I’d never get anything done.

John Shane is four months old, 15 lbs., a total chunky monkey, a perfect little Little, and incredibly delectable. I give grandparenthood five stars, and highly recommend it. If you can get a gig as a grandparent, you should probably take it.

Oh sure, there are downsides, responsibilities, trials, tribulations.... First, I had to by a bigger cell phone, one with more memory/storage capacity. Occasionally, I must pretend to be politely interested when people rudely want to talk about something that isn’t about John Shane’s amazing ability to blow spit bubbles at such a tender age, or what a good bath taker he is, or any one of his fascinating characteristics. And just this afternoon, I spent an exhausting two hours trying to get wrapping paper to stick to a pony.

Flying in the house--with Dad!!

I get to spend every Wednesday with my grandson, his parents entrusting him to my care while they go out in the world and function as fully-realized adults. John and I stay home and plot our future mischief. We play games, sing songs, practice “flying,”—even if his daddy says there’s no flying in the house. (I raised his father and I must say I’m a little surprised by his sudden fondness for Rules. Where did that come from?) We read books and take naps, and Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week.

And as for Christmas? This year, I just can’t wait.

Traditions of Glow

I got my tree the other day—and by “got,” I mean I opened the door when my oldest son brought my tree in.

The Sume’s are big on tradition. For the last three years, the tree-getting tradition has morphed into my tree being delivered to me, securely affixed in its stand, and the lights applied utilizing teamwork. It’s a pretty sweet tradition in my opinion, one that warms my heart.

I believe in lots of lights on the tree—and I mean LOTS--1,700 this year.  More is always better. I’m a firm believer that you can’t judge what you can’t see and that glare is now your new best friend. So, your tree may have a few branches that aren’t located in the optimal position, so what? If you’re generous with the lights everything else becomes less important. And less visible. The tree’s glow, however, will be visible from outer space.

But Sue, I hear you asking, how will I know I have enough lights on my tree?

That’s simple—apply all the strands of lights you have. Now step back, squint your eyes and look for any dark spots. If you see any, go get more lights and apply them to the dark areas. Lather. Rinse. Repeat as necessary. Figure at least 100 lights per foot of tree. Now double it. AT LEAST. More is better. Too much doesn’t exist. If you’re really smart you will have stocked up on Christmas lights at last year’s after Christmas sales.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I don’t always “string” the lights on my tree—I often bunch them. And by bunch them, I mean I basically leave them in the loop I took them of the tree last year in. And by loop a mean wad. I then take that wad ‘o lights and stuff them between the thicker branches and artistically fluff the wad ‘o lights around the trunk of the tree. Repeat this technique up the length of the tree. Follow up by “stringing” lights on the outer branches. Easy, peasy, done. Guaranteed to give your tree that out of this world glow—just don’t forget to wear sunblock.

Mood: Reflective

November is drawing to a close. Thanksgiving is behind us, the Christmas season before us. It’s a good time to sit next to the fire, a fuzzy bundle of blanket—or cat—in your lap. Cup your palms around the warm of your favorite mug; sip, savor, reflect, plan.

We are headed into the shortening of the light, day slipping into night at a faster rate. We push back against the darkness with light—Christmas lights, candlelights-- the light shared with those we love; the light commemorating those we have lost.

I have a favorite poem I Like to read this time of year, “In Dark December,” by Ralph Murre. Worth the Google, I promise. You can also find his work here: http://littleeaglereverse.blogspot.com. The poem begins simply “Whatever you believe, whatever you do not, there are sacred rite you must perform in dark December...” and goes on to encourage the coming together, the feasting and friendship between “...family and friends, cool cats and stray dogs alike...” and invites us to “...Reach so far in your sharing that you hold the sun in one hand, the stars in the other, and no one between is hungry...”

The simple beauty of those words, the truth and hope in them, are a candle all their own, a reminder to “Be kinder than necessary, because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle”-JM Barry.

Of course, this advice is better offered after one has braved the battle of Black Friday shopping, because those bargains aren’t going to find themselves. Cyber Monday has now been upgraded to Cyber Monday Week, because if we all battle on the interwebz at the same time, the whole thing can come crashing down. There is probably some sort of allegory there, but I have yet to divine it.

Back on the home front, I have some Christmas lights up and I am looking forward to getting my tree. This Christmas is not my First Worst, but it will be for some. I remind myself to be kinder; to hold the sun and stars and to light the in-between places; to build—not walls—but a bigger table, room for cool cats and stray dogs, alike.

T-Day Week Round Up

We seem to have had a good mix of weather lately; enough sun to keep spirits up, to encourage those end of season chores that I often leave until too late: namely, digging my dahlias. Full disclosure: I have yet to do it. 

But I plan to. 

Honest. 

Probably soon.

We have also had enough rain to end the fire danger locally and soften the fallen leaves. I firmly believe soft, silent leaves are a key element to hunter success, and it seems to have been a successful season. In my neighborhood alone, we are two fewer elk to the good, and I have the flesh of my enemy--neatly packaged in my freezer, awaiting future feasting--to prove it.

Getting our Pre-Season on

Speaking of leaves, I’m pleasantly surprised by how many trees are hanging on to their color this late in the season. The leaves are not as thick as they were at the beginning of the season, but the ones that remain seem to add more texture to the landscape, appearing more as polka dots of color instead of a solid mass of color; less being more as we head into pre-winter.

 Thanksgiving is this week, and in my humble opinion, should mark the official end of Fall. We gather, we give thanks, we enjoy company of friends and family, we feast, we watch football and most of all—no matter how dark our year may have been—we find a way to be grateful for the light we have.

For the Sume Family, this year has been a good one, our blessings have been major, our troubles only little ones. John Shane Sume joined our family this summer, and as I suspected—he’s a genius. Only three months old and the boy is a spit bubble-blowing champion. I’m very proud. I believe he gets that from me.

Beth and Cameron

Our family has grown: a new baby, a new Beloved, and a new puppy. Time with those we love, fewer elk, an upcoming feast, plans to install my own zappy fence, and some sun to balance the rain.

 Life? It’s good.

Millie and Devin

Pies by Cameron

Tree Hunting

Heavy Heart 2018

I find myself sitting in front of the key board and, once again, I don’t know quite what to say. The recent events in the news, the bombs mailed to an enemies list that included past Presidents, current members of Congress, and a news organization; a shooter who appeared to target only those whose skin contain more melanin than his, and shot and killed two African American grandparents who were grocery shopping; a gunman---spouting conspiracy theories and acting out hate-- entered a synagogue and ruthlessly murdered people at prayer; these acts are beyond imagining, let alone understanding. When the weapons of war are loosed on people at play, in our schools, at prayer; when human life is taken with such utter contempt---it’s easy to fall in to despair. It is easy to say that we live in a sick and twisted world, that things are rotten and getting worse, that the center cannot hold. And while it’s understandable to lose heart and despair, that statement is a Big Fat LIE.

Last October, I was trying to write a column about the Los Vegas Shooter, and I wrote “The world is not a sick and twisted place—that individual was. We don’t know his full story and I won’t use his name---but he is not who we are, his acts do not define Humanity. Humanity is beautiful.

Humanity shines in darkness. Humanity shows up to help. Humanity covers loved ones and strangers alike with their own bodies, a shield made not only of vulnerable flesh and bone but of indestructible, enduring Love. Humanity refuses to leave. Humanity stays with the fallen, giving first aid, carrying others to safety. Humanity lines up at two a.m. to give blood, stands in lines for hours to make that happen. Humanity weeps and mourns and comforts each other.”

It is October, a year later. It is easy to focus on the Darkness, the things that divide us; and when Darkness comes, it is too easy to consider the black and despair. But there is Light, and it destroys the darkness. You just need to look for it, to focus on the Light.

There is a tradition in the Jewish community of performing good works in memory of a lost love one instead of placing flowers. I invite you to fight the darkness by spreading kindness, by doing a good deed, by helping others. Make a point of doing something positive for someone else this week. Fight back against the darkness with Love.

Fred Rogers—Mr. Rogers--- famously said of disasters “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” And that is true. Humanity shows up to help. And that, my friends, is a beautiful, blessed thing. Be what is best about humanity—be a helper, give love, spread kindness.