I have read that according to etiquette experts it is acceptable to say “Happy New Year” for the first seven to ten days of the year. I admit, it seems odd to me to use that phrase anytime after January 1. I am rethinking that this year. I wish you a Happy New Year!
Often I step outside and take pictures. Sometimes a beautiful sunset lures me outdoors—or the vibrant colors of autumn leaves beckon me to come closer. While I am walking around, I always look for things that aren’t so obvious—something small or hidden—perhaps interesting in shape or color. These pictures remind me of things for which I am thankful. They are images of Thanksgiving and of thanks-giving.
Music has a way of speaking right to the heart. And, most especially, love songs express what we can’t say with mere words. I want to share my Top Ten Favorite Love Songs—just in time for Valentine’s Day!
The world right now is not what I would wish it to be. I will be the first to admit that the last two years have been challenging, scary, disheartening, and maddening. Yet, I am alive. I have survived and endured. I hope for a better future and am glad to say, “Welcome!”to the new year.
We need a little Christmas. It is a season of joy, laughter, and hope. Christmas brings out the child in us and gives us permission to show love and gratitude through gift giving. We party with family and friends. We adorn our houses and yards with trees, lights, and all kinds of decorations . . . and many are humorous or whimsical.
I have many nostalgic Thanksgiving memories. When I was a child, I always watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. Daddy would go out and mow over all the leaves in our yard and then come back in and fall asleep in his chair. Mother stayed busy in the kitchen cooking our Thanksgiving dinner . . . which was always eaten in the middle of the day.
My memories of Good Friday are of my parents getting up as soon as it was light to plant the garden. It wasn’t just a small garden in the yard. They had purchased acreage around our house where they had a garden plot. Daddy would plow it earlier in the week and have it ready for them to plant on Good Friday. I am not sure where that tradition originated — whether it was from the Farmer’s Almanac or simply Southern Folklore, but my parents religiously planted on Good Friday.
After I made my first Christmas CD in 2013, I was eager to make another in 2015. At this point, I was working a full-time office job, came home tired every evening, and did not know if my sophomore effort could be as good as the first.
As a young person I could not wait until Thanksgiving arrived each year. That signaled the day I would pull out all my Christmas carol books and play through them every day. I would arrange the music into a program and imagine I was performing in some great Christmas concert.
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