Oh Look--Bonus Holiday Content!

Cameron & Beth

Aiden, Devin & Staci, Linden
 and a photobomb by John Shane

John Shane,Jordan & Elise, Lane

 

Snow for Christmas!

Who Me?

Oh no, there goes Tokyo,
GO GO Godzilla!

Comfort & Joy

 

One of my favorite things to do “in Dark December” is to sit in the quiet with only the Christmas lights on, my hands wrapped around the warmth of my favorite cup. Granted, “only the Christmas lights” is enough illumination to comfortably perform surgery if one was so inclined, but at least the lumens are festive in nature. 

The Holidays are a season overflowing with memory... Christmases of Childhood Past—both my childhood and the fleeting childhoods of my boys...memories of favorite gifts, of love and laughter.

Oh Christmas Tree 2021

Millie is such a Good Girl

 

 

 

This year, Christmas Present is a season of anticipation...Grandchildren—4, so far— bring the magic and wonder back to Christmas--along with the challenge of overcoming curiosity, mixed with gravity. Which is a nice way of saying I really need to tie my tree to the wall. Sume Christmas tree tradition is one that includes excess lighting—15 stands of lights and counting-- and fishing line reinforcement. In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that any Christmas Tree experience I’ve had that ended in disaster always had more to do with my tree succumbing to the laws of gravity more than it had to do with childish curiosity— or a happily wagging tail, in the case of the grand dog.

As I write this, it is snowing lightly, a soft dusting of white that adds to the ambience and makes me think that a cup hot chocolate—with a cap of whipped cream and sprinkles—sounds like a fine idea right about now. A longstanding father/son tradition in the Sume Family is a quick zzzsst of whipped cream, from can directly to mouth. I know my sons are continuing this tradition, so our family ornament this year is a cup of coco...

My wish for you this season is that you find comfort in your memories, and joy in the anticipation of memories yet to come. Merry Christmas!

Christmas Traditions, a New Generation

 Christmas is a time of traditions, some old, some new, and this year-some come 'round again. When my children were little, my mom started buying wooden Brio train sets for her three grandsons. Every year, for Christmas and birthdays, she would purchase more track, or bridges, or battery powered engines. All during the year the boys would head to Grandma and Grandpa's, drag out the blue Rubbermaid tub, and set up lavish railroads; tracks and tunnels sprawling across the living room floor. Grandchildren and grandparents shared the adventure. It was hard to know who enjoyed it more.

But time flies. Eventually, the boys packed the tracks up in the blue Rubbermaid tub for what turned out to be the last time and moved on to other interests: sports and motorcycles, video games and girls. But Grandma held onto the tub, knowing that-- if you're patient, and lucky--sometimes things come around again.

John Shane contemplates the best box car line-up.

My mom is gone now, my children grown-becoming fathers themselves---that girl thing having worked itself out admirably. When my grandchildren visit Nana Sugar's, we dust off the old blue Rubbermaid tub and sort out the pieces. Dads and uncles turn into little boys again, and we all---young and not so young--turn the pieces of the track, this way, and that way, figuring out the best path around the room.

Oh no, there goes Toyko...here comes Lane!

My Amazon cart is full of presents for Christmases Yet to Come: suspension bridges, curves and elevation blocks, straight tracks and small couplers; an old tradition, come 'round again. 

Please excuse the anti scratch tape on the furniture
We have some Very Bad Catz

The completed track with bonus siding

A Lifetime Supply of Christmas

 Q: What has 17 actors, five settings, three writers and one plot?

A: 642 Hallmark Christmas movies.

I have a dirty little secret—one that, even as I admit to, I will vehemently over-excuse/deny. “Hi, I’m Sue, and I watch Hallmark Christmas Movies.” 

Not that I really watch them, of course, I just have them on in the background. Truly. Because some of them are so stupid that I find myself yelling at the TV: “Your son is a FULL GROWN MAN—back off, dude! He’ll figure it out!”

Like all good addicts in denial, I have a good friend (Hi Eileen!) who shares my tolerance—enabling is such a judgey word-- for such drivel.  One afternoon she unexpectedly found herself at home and we exchanged the following texts:

“I am watching Christmas shows! Novel idea!

Huh! What are they about?

“This one is about Christmas! And a gorgeous house! And potential love! And good hair!”

Do they drink a lot of hot chocolate? Do they have any festive treats? Community Holiday Events? Does anyone own a Christmas tree farm? Have amnesia? Time travel into Christmas Past? Discover a lost treasure/card/package/photo?

“Yes, yes, yes, no, no, no but there is an old friend from high school. He's very friendly, cute, helpful, musical --helps with the community school program.”

Of course he does! Old high school boyfriends are kryptonite. Or cat nip--can't remember the difference.

“Me thinks a little of both.”

Lol--such a heady cocktail!

"I'm hooked."

It's the addiction that dare not speak its name.

“Except us…This little girl is soo cute! This is a new (to me) movie. It's okay.

Which one? The kitten one?

"No the fireman one."

Oohh—they need to make a fireman AND kitten one! And the kittens should be Magic Kittens!

And so it goes. But if you want to watch something that is light and light hearted, celebratory and almost nobody ever dies… and if they have died in the past-- every one remembers them but only ever cries happy tears. Hallmark movies are silly and sappy and SAFE.

As addictions go, they are pretty benign. Embarrassing, but benign.

Oh, Christmas Tree 2020 Edition: Never Mind, I’ll Do It Myself

It’s 3 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon in early December. My Christmas tree has been up and fully illuminated for over 24 hours. I’m still in my pajamas, completely covered in glitter, and my Christmas tree is mostly naked. 

I can explain.

Actually, it would probably be better if I just summed it up. My Famous Designer Friend from NYC was here and ruined Christmas with his tasteful editions to my usual decor. He gifted me with a beautiful table arrangement of woodland greens, dried corn leaves “locally sourced” from my garden, cones, beautiful fairy lights encased in muted gold mesh globes, and just a hint of glitzy, glamourous-glittery gold spirals to kick it up a notch.

Homespun meets glitz

Unfortunately, kicking it up a notch resulted in knocking it out of the park; making everything else around it seem drab and overwrought by comparison. Try as I might to convince him to make my tree match my table décor, he wouldn’t fall for it. Even my subtle hints about “spilling the beans” on his Great Gramma Goode fell on deaf ears.

Not what I had in mind...

After he left on Sunday morning, I decided that I was perfectly capable of glamming up my own dang Christmas, thank you very much. I’d just do it my own, little-red-hen, self.

Step one: change out the 36 bows I usually use on my tree to 36 new ones. The new ones would add just the right touch of glitz—white ribbon with a micro glitter red and silver candy cane stripe—complete with a sprinkle of oversized glitter to really kick it up a notch. Lovely!

Q: How long can it take to cut and tie 36 bows? A: No matter how long you guessed, double it. Then factor in my—having yanked the bows good and tight in my efforts to even them up—forgetting to insert the wire needed to attach them to the tree. And I don’t have any Christmas ornament hangers. And the hardware stores are now closed.

Using a toothpick to loosen up the knots enough to slide in some tomato wire--we McGyvers use what we have--took much longer than expected.

Suffice it to say, that as of this writing, my tree has 1,660 white lights; 36 handcrafted bows, eight tiny reindeer, one large reindeer and not much else.

Can we call this done? I believe so.

Glamour is hard. “Homespun” really is more my speed, after all. Or maybe it’s not too late to go “Minimalist” after all... 

Oh, Christmas Tree, 2020 Edition

 In Christmas Past, I have long been an advocate of The Perfect Christmas Tree; get a tree, string a MINIMUM of 200 lights per foot—visible from space is the goal. Then garnish in the style of your choosing. With enough lumens illuminating your tree, any lapses in judgement/taste or imperfections of execution will be impossible to see without sunglasses.

Some people do themed trees, and I like to think I do as well. My preferred style has been called “homespun”—I’m not sure it was meant as a compliment—and my theme every year is “Christmas thru the Years.”  Which basically means that every year I just load on all the “stuff” from every year pervious, plus all the new “stuff” I bought the current year. It’s a work in progress. Some years my tree falls over.

This year, my Famous Designer Friend from NYC, who shall remain nameless (Hi Philip!) was “Out Town” doing a Christmas Design for a customer in Gig Harbor. Of course I invited him to visit me-- he’s my FRIEND—we go way back. It was purely a coincidence that my Christmas tree was delivered just a head of his visit.

When Phil—when my Famous Designer Friend from NYC--you might remember him from the three Sume weddings, where he had a starring role as The Only Floral Designer our family would ever even think about using UTILIZING-- he immediately set to work crafting beautiful wreaths, swags and garlands for friends and clients, using woodland materials that were “locally sourced.” And by “locally sourced,” I of course mean I turned him loose in my back yard with a pair of clippers and a bag for moss. I even unplugged the electric fence for him.

Being generous to a fault, my FDFFNYC made me the most beautiful centerpiece for my holiday table while he was working on his planned creations. Then he also whipped up two lovely woodland toppers, complete with beautiful bows, for my two lanterns! My house was beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Nature--with a touch of glitz,

I suggested to FDFFNYC that he might as well glam up my Christmas tree with his special brand of magic while I took a break in the hot tub—watching the creative process was exhausting. Imagine my dismay when I came back to find my Christmas tree looking like this:

Philip Ruins Christmas

 

I guess there’s just no accounting for taste....

 

Next week: Sue does it herself.

My Wish for You

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, candle lights-- 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.

 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.

So, whatever you believe, whatever you do not—whatever state your heart is in, I wish you Peace. How ever 2019 has treated you, whatever it is you see when you stop and look behind you, may 2020 be a better year. May we be kind to one another, may we be gentle with ourselves. And, in the immortal words of Tiny Tim, may “God bless us, everyone!”

Sue’s Guide to Gift Giving

If gift giving was a relationship status mine would undoubtedly be “It’s Complicated.”

Sometimes I get carried away with wrapping.
Annie is not amused.

I love gifts. I love giving them, I love wrapping them, I love receiving them.

I love it when I think of The Perfect Gift for someone, I love seeing their pleasure. I love finding The Perfect Present so much that for the next three or four years I feel like I’m off the gift giving hook, that I should just be able to rest on my gift giving laurels. “Remember that Perfect Present I gave you in 1996? Wasn’t it perfect? Weren’t you surprised? Good times, good times...”

I hate shopping for gifts. I hate not having any idea of what to buy for someone. I hate it when I feel like I’m just saying “Here. I got you some STUFF. That you now must dust. You’re welcome.”

The Perfect Gift, 2019 Edition.

Some people are easy to find The Perfect Gift for. Baby John Shane is easy to give to. Right now, as I write this, he’s having The Best Time Ever with a paper towel. He can dust with it, pretend to blow his nose in it, or turn it into confetti. As a matter of fact, he can do all three of those things with a single paper towel. Imagine how much fun he could have with an entire roll!

My Grand dog Millie is equally easy to give to. She, too, loves to make confetti. Perhaps her own roll of paper towels would be The Perfect Gift for her as well.

Come to think of it—who doesn’t like paper towels? They’re very useful and come conveniently packaged for gift giving. I think Gifting Giving 2019 is SOLVED!

Millie is a VERY GOOD DOG.

Bonus Christmas Tree picture. Enjoy!

Christmas Tree Decorating 2019 Edition

How big the tree seems "in the wild."

My Christmas tree was delivered on Friday and, as I’ve said before, the Sume’s are big on tradition. As with almost all traditions, the Tree Getting Tradition has evolved over time. For the last several 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 sweet tradition in my opinion, one that warms my heart.

This year, the tradition included the addition of one small helper. “Baby” John Shane was on hand to oversee the critical task of trimming off the lower section of tree trunk. A fresh cut ensures that the tree will both be able to take up water and clear the ceiling. The fact that his daddy Jordan used a chainsaw to accomplish the task made it all the more enjoyable for lil’ John. I happen to have it on good authority—Mama Elise told me-- that someone will be finding a wee chainsaw under the tree Christmas morning, but I digress.

It’s quite a blessing to be able to experience Christmas through the eyes of a child. At 16 months old, everything is magical to John. He toddles about, carrying the freshly cut segment of tree and offering it each of us to smell. He piles Duplo blocks on the tree branches as ornamentation and reminds me that there is Another Good Reason to tie my tree to the wall with fishing line, and to crimp the ornament hangers tightly to the tree branches.

How big the tree is when you get it home.

Love continues to multiply. Early next year the Sume Family will welcome another baby boy. Devin and Staci will begin the odyssey of worry and wonder that is parenting. In the fall, the Sume Family will welcome another member as Cameron marries his Beloved, Beth. My Christmas tree is up, bright enough to be visible from space, and my friend Jon is coming over to help me decorate the rest of it. Life is good. My heart is full.

Bring on the Season!

Twenty Days and Counting

By the time you read this, Christmas is 20 days—OR LESS—away. Now I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, just incase you’re one of those people who hasn’t wrapped up their Christmas shopping by July. Full disclosure: I am not one of those people.

Once upon a time, I used to hyper-ventilate when mid-December rolled around and I wasn’t “done.” When people would ask me, “You already for Christmas?” I’d feel guilty admitting that no, I wasn’t “ready” for Christmas, that I wasn’t even close to ready.

My attempts at early “readiness” would usually go something like this: I shop early. I find The Perfect Present. I hide the perfect present in the perfect “they’ll never find it there” spot. Several months after Christmas I prove that premise by unexpectedly coming across The Perfect Present, still hidden in the Perfect Spot.  Early prepping for Christmas just didn’t work for me.

Then one day I figured out it didn’t really matter if I was “ready” for Christmas—Christmas was ready for me. So what if I hadn’t made all twelve of the Christmas Treats I’d planned to, didn’t matter if I had a pile ‘o presents to wrap—Christmas was going to arrive right on schedule—no matter how ready I was/wasn’t. It’s not as if my failure to attain The Perfect Unexpected Stocking Stuffer was going to prevent Christmas from arriving for everybody else. Frankly, that realization was something of a relief.

The First Christmas happened at a time when people weren’t prepared—there was literally no room in the inn. The Great Gift ended up wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger, and that turned out OK.

Not being “ready” for Christmas? It’s traditional. And I’m OK with it.

Tis the—Which Season Now?

Tis the season, once again—and you know what that means.  

Wait—which season? It’s WAAAAAAY too early for Christmas, so it’s not that season, step back from the tinsel, put down the twinkle lights—your day is coming. Just not today.

It’s not Chicken Poo season, still a wee bit early to add chicken poo to the flower beds. Let Mother Nature cool off a little bit first or you will encourage new growth, only to see it nipped in the bud. Literally. And it’s still too early to dig up dahlias—or at least it is at my house. I like to dig my dahlias at the last possible second before they turn to slime.

Is it hunting season? Kind of, I guess, but not FULL ON SHOOT ELK season, so no—that’s not it. Elk for Everybody season starts locally next month. Good luck and be safe.

The frost is on the pumpkin--- so it’s Pumpkin Spice Everything Season? Well, technically yes, but that’s not the season I’m referring to. And—full disclosure here—the only things I like that are pumpkin spice are candles and pumpkin bread. Which allows me to simultaneously mock the “PUMPKIN SPICE EVERYTHING!!” people while looking forward the scent of pumpkin spice. Win/win, really. I have stocked up on pumpkin spice coffee creamer, because BEST MOM EVER.

The season I’m referencing is---drum roll please-- Rotate the Air in Your Tires Season! Truly. It is time to take the summer air out of your tires and put in winter air. Frankly, I’m surprised I even have to mention this. Now with temperatures dropping into the 30’s, summer air just won’t cut it. Go immediately to the nearest air compressor—I prefer the kind with an attendant attached, shout out to Packwood Chevron. Oh, sure I have my OWN air compressor but I prefer the professionally applied air—and add the necessary amount of winter air to bring your tires up to winter driving requirements.

Meme courtesy of the internet. And probably Al Gore.

Next week: Sue discusses blinker fluid levels. Probably.