Time flies when you’re in love.
J.P.
Christmas.
It is no longer Christmas on the East Coast but here in Mountain Standard Time we have an hour and a half left of the official holiday.
We had a lovely Christmas dinner of ham and macaroni and cheese and a green bean dish of some sort. Dinner rolls rounded out the menu and it was very good. I’ve been drinking wine on and off all day and if it was any other day I’d probably delve into some other memories of Christmases past and share many anecdotes of how great my life experiences has been. Honestly, I miss seeing the relatives a little bit during this holiday season, but with COVID-19 and the dangers of contracting the disease from others in the world, now is not the time to fly back east to see the relatives. Luckily technology keeps us virtually connected.
We played board games tonight and we laughed and had good meals and just spent time together, the five of us, on this joyous of holidays. My mind is completely disconnected from the timeline; I have little realization as to what day of the week it is. (I know, it’s Saturday). There is no snow to be found here in this southern Arizona desert, but the weatherman promises snow on the mountains soon. I can’t wait to see that.
I’ve been watching clips of my favorite show, “Bewitched”, and leaving comments on YouTube about things I’ve learned about the production of the show over the years. It’s amazing to me the number of youngsters that think computers and CGI were involved with the special effects of the enduring series from the 1960s. No, they didn’t have anything called “CGI” back in 1964 when Bewitched first came out. That’s all a very clever use of wires, trick photography, and film editing used to make Endora and Samantha do magical things. A sign of me getting older, but these youngsters that think computers have been around forever are slightly amusing and slightly annoying. I’m thankful to be part of the last generation to know American life before the invasion of computerization.
We purposely kept gift giving at a minimum here in our desert home. A few shirts here, some jeans there, and some other trinkets filled the space under our main Christmas tree. It was quiet but it was beautiful.
Perhaps our most precious moments are not filled with what we received but what we remember. I am blessed with an uncanny ability to remember many things.
The key is to focus on the happy memories. Merry Christmas.
Christmas In Progress.
Our Christmas experience is in progress. It’s a very relaxed day. Presents were opened and enjoyed. Breakfast was delicious. Supper is in the process of being made.
I’m counting blessings and coming up with too many to count.
Caturday.
Truman usually sleeps in his bed or on his perch, or at the very least up against a wall. But for the Christmas holiday he doesn’t want to miss a thing and has chosen an intersection in the middle of the main traffic area of the house.
Memories.
When I was a kid, Grandpa and Grandma City would come up to our home Christmas morning to watch us open Christmas presents and have a small breakfast with the family. I always like those moments on Christmas morning; it felt like they were making a long journey to be with us and I was appreciative of it. After Grandpa City passed on in 1980 the tradition changed, and we generally spent Christmas Eve night in the city with that side of the family.
Since we lived next door or across the street (depending on the year) from Grandpa and Grandma Country, we would spent Christmas afternoon and evening at their house with a good chunk of my cousins and aunts and uncles on that side of the family. We’d always pick a favorite toy or present to show off and share with the cousins. I remember the year my cousin Nathan got a truck with a numeric keypad built in, he could program the direction and length of travel. We tried it out on the floor in the hallway that led to the bedrooms of the mid-century modern home. It was great fun. After dark the cousins would rush out to the barns with my dad and me to see us do the chores, feeding the cattle, and in the early years, the horses Shinto and Sue. Doing the chores was something we did everyday, living across the street or next door, but my cousins didn’t get to partake in the merriment very often and they’d be excited to pet the cows and bulls. Little did they know they’d probably be having them for dinner at a future date. Don’t name the cows and bulls.
These Christmas celebrations revive very fond memories of my childhood and at age 53 I realize how blessed I am to have been such a happy child. As I’ve been known to say, John and Sandi did a really good job raising my sister and me. We were lucky to have close relations with both sides of the family; too many people I’ve known in my adulthood didn’t experience the same type of joy that I’ve described all these years.
Our first Christmas in the desert is different than anything I’ve ever known. It’s not cold, there’s no snow, and the scent of creosote permeates the air after today’s rain. I see icicle lights hanging from the eves of the house across the dry wash that separates our land and I wonder if they’ve ever had real icicles in the place of these lights.
I count my blessings daily. I have a wonderful husband of nearly a quarter of a century and three other men that I call family and love very much. Our home is unconventional and there’s no cattle to feed after sunset, but new memories are being formed every day and they make me smile as much as Grandpa and Grandma City’s visit when I was a child.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Have Fun.
I went flying with Flight Instructor Prabesh yesterday evening as part of our weekly flight together. I’m working on what’s called my Instrument Rating, meaning when all is said and done after this checkride I’ll be able to fly in the clouds and safely fly an airplane in instances where I can’t see the ground or the horizon. It’s a special skill and when achieved I’ll be the first pilot in the family to have achieved this milestone.
We’ve been working on my instrument rating in a selection of Cessna 172 airplanes, which I’ve flown many times before, but not recently. I have to show the new flight school that I’m perfectly capable of handling a C172 in less than ideal conditions, so Prabesh and I went up and did a lot of basic maneuvers to make sure I could handle the airplane in an emergency. This involves pulling the engine and making emergency descents, doing steep turns (showing I can control the aircraft in such a situation), and stalls, showing I can get the airplane flying again after it’s lost lift under the wings and stopped flying.
We had a lot of fun flying last night. We’ve been flying after dark working on my Instrument Rating, since I don’t need to see anything when I’m theoretically flying in the clouds, so it was a nice change of pace to see things and admire the surroundings in the daylight.
I love flying airplanes. It’s a love I did something about rather late in life but it makes me very happy. And as of Tuesday, I’ve been an official private pilot for seven years.
Seven grand years.
Discipline.
Why don’t you have a beard anymore? You used to always have a beard.
This is something I hear once in a while. My dad and I had a conversation about pilots and beards back shortly after my 16th birthday when we were in Oshkosh, Wis. at the great aviation event with my grandfather. “A clean shaven man shows the world the man is disciplined. And it takes discipline to be a pilot.” I know plenty of private pilots with beards and they’re perfectly fine pilots. They’re on their way of becoming old pilots and it’s always good to become an old pilot. I don’t know many female pilots with beards.
My dad was very structured and disciplined with his approach to life. He didn’t talk about these traits very often, but when he did I listened.
But let’s face it, my beard grows in weird patterns, is very gray these days, and quite frankly, it’s much easier just to shave my face everyday. I don’t know if my shaving routine makes me a disciplined pilot, but it makes me feel better about myself and that’s important. Confidence is a key factor in becoming a very old pilot.
Happy Solstice.
A happy Winter Solstice to all. May you find the light in the shortest day of the year. May the sun warm your body and spirit.
Sonoran Dogs.
Before moving to Tucson I had never heard of Sonoran Dogs. Living in Chicago I’ve always liked Chicago Style hot dogs and I’ve always been a proponent of slapping the ketchup off any hot dog around me.
Earl took me out for lunch yesterday and we went to a place on 22nd known for their Sonoran style hot dogs. It was very good and I enjoyed the experience very much. A part of me wonders if one could achieve the same effect with a veggie dog, might have to give that a try.
Gatherings.
We attended a small holiday gathering last night as a family. It’s nice to socialize with folks, especially when the hosts require vaccination and everyone maintained social distancing.
Jamie snapped a photo before we left for the party.
