One at a time...

This has begun making the rounds on Facebook. It seems to me that it was going around last November, too, so I'm not sure this is current, but a cursory investigation indicates that this is truly Nordstrom's annual policy.  

 It's getting a lot of play (and is very popular.)  Here's my 2¢.

About 15 years ago, I was working near Union Square in San Francisco. (Nightmare job - but that's another story!) It was my birthday - October 3.  It was about 85º outside, a beautiful Indian Summer day.  I was amazed and appalled when, looking up at the huge Macy's facing the square, every single window was decorated with a Christmas wreath.  October third. 

Fast forward to about 5 years ago, same location in mid-October: no Xmas decor!  Why?

I think it's because they have found a way to cash in on Halloween.  It is a BIG money-maker for retailers now.  Not just candy and costumes - orange and purple lights! glittered pumpkins! enormous inflatable lawn decorations! life-sized zombies! bodies hanging from trees! (Yes, really, and right at the end of my block.  Very disturbing.)  Retailers have monetized Halloween.  Weird, but at least by having a profitable holiday between Labor Day and Christmas, we have been saved from sights like the above windows before it's time to put away the sleeveless shirts.  Now all that red and green stuff comes out on November 1, along side the 30% off (really, Target? not 50%?) Snickers and M&M's.

This new trend thrills me, actually.  I don't buy into elaborate Halloween decor - at most, I'll buy a couple of those cute little pumpkins.  If they're active in October, I am usually more invested in what is happening with the Giants.

So here's my idea on how to further push retailers' cashing in on Christmas back to Advent:  Let's monetize Thanksgiving!  Just think of it: Giant inflatable turkeys, cornucopias and pilgrims. Elaborate light shows in amber and orange. Strands of oversized faux colorful leaves streaming from car antennae.  Politically correct t-shirts commemorating Native Americans' oppression.  Books about gratitude written by Justin Beiber and the New Jersey housewives.

I won't buy into that, either.  (Well, okay, maybe a t-shirt.)  But if it catches on, maybe more retailers will follow Nordstrom's lead and save the joy of Christmastime for December.  Wouldn't it be nice to walk into a store decked out in Christmas decorations and think, "wow, how wonderful!" instead of "oh crap! already?!"

**None of the above images are mine.  Any copyright infringement is unintentional.  Please contact me if these images are yours, and I will remove them.

Welcome back

It's been a year since I've done this.  This is not an apology.

Occasionally (and especially recently, probably why I'm here now) I get a yearning to blog, some spark of an idea... Often as not, I've told myself that it's either too personal, or that what I really should ("should" - a dangerous word) be doing is writing in my own private journal.  I haven't made a regular practice of that in over a decade, probably, unless you count knocking out a dozen or so pages every winter when I go on retreat.

The year included Dad's steep decline in health and his death.  Simultaneously, a deep and shattering heartbreak over the death of a dear friendship.  I took on a half-dozen projects at church, all of which were pretty much abandoned while I tended to the first two matters.  I thought I found a new job - and then discovered I hadn't.  This broke my Spirit more than my heart, I think. 

Recently, I've picked up some of the pieces.  I've been able to work on most of the church projects, hopefully without disappointing too many people.  This one is the biggest, and in some ways it is also the loneliest.  

For now, I'll not change any of the formatting/colors, etc.  Of course I love to do that, but it is not the reason I'm back, and this looks fine to me for now.

Anyway, I'm back.  We'll see how it goes.

Thanksgivings

You know, for someone who is a fairly traditional person... for someone who was raised with something of an Norman Rockwell mentality... I have had some pretty odd Thanksgivings.
Back in the day when my kids were less independent (a.k.a. before they were grownups) we had what I called even and odd years. On the even years, we were all together: my kids, my folks, my siblings - everyone. It was great. It's always great when we are all together. I am/we are so blessed. And then there were the odd years. My kids were with their dad, my siblings were with their in-laws, and I was... mostly left to fend for myself. Those holidays were certainly odd. I've made some interesting choices.
There was the year that I was invited to spend Thanksgiving in Louisville. I got to spend quite a bit of time with T. and Marty, and meet T.'s family, which was great. And Louisville is beautiful. (My joke with T. is: I'd love to see it some time!) I had a nice solo ramble through a neighborhood cemetery. And I saw Churchill Downs from the airplane window. Mostly, I was indoors with a lot of cigarette smoke. But it was great. Also: a little weird.

There was another year, also with T. At the time he had a lot of friends in the Folsom (gay) leather crowd. We went to a woman's house in Dublin. Her name, I was told, was "Mama", and she takes in all the orphaned gay men and their friends for the holiday meal. I did a big number on my own head before I even got there. It was fairly ordinary holiday gathering. And it was quite a trip.
The most incredible holiday meal I have ever experienced was with my kids in Seattle. There was to be a gathering at J.'s friend's house, pot luck. We arrived on time, sweet potatoes in hand. Counting us, there were 6 people in the house. The TV was on, tuned to something bizarre (maybe that was just me), and everyone in the house was turned towards the tube. There was no table. All attempts at conversation fell like a lead balloon. It was the longest two and a half hours I have ever spent. Ever.
This year was a bit odd, but pales in comparison to anything mentioned above. I was sick with a cold, so I spent the day all alone. I just couldn't risk infecting anyone - especially Dad - with my cooties. And ya know, it was fine. I slept in, snacked a little, talked to my son, my daughter and T. on the phone, made a little thanksgiving photo album on facebook, watched a lot of TV (mostly The Waltons), baked a pumpkin pie without a crust. And when the day was over, my mom dropped off a huge tray of leftovers from the family dinner.
So blessed, am I!

change...

a most intricate quilt

I really, really love the transition seasons.

fall makes me want to live in a small country town.
(but so does spring. and winter. and summer.)

This week I knew that fall was finally here when the temps rose over eighty (F) and then dropped to the high forties in the space of a day and a half. I was trying to figure out why I love that so much...

rainbows are everywhere when you know where to look...

I think it's the fresh, sting of cold when one walks outside from the warmth of home - the warmth lingers in the body, but the skin tingles with the chill. It's a delicious feeling to me. And then the reverse is also true: cold, cold skin (and/or fingers, toes, nose...)feels the immediate change moving indoors, and there is that tingle again as the comforting warmth envelops...

jewels that fall to the earth and then dissolve into it...

Oh, and the wet of rain, the slant of the sun, the changing (finally!) leaves and impossibly blue sky... for all these things, and more, I give thanks.

let's find more time to go wandering this season!

the Summer of twenty-ten (part I)

October already. Really? Wow. I am truly glad that the Summer of 2010 is over. I think that the events of the past few months will stay with me, literally, for the rest of my life. This past summer has felt abundant in life in all of its forms - sorrowful, joyful, stressful, suspense-filled, dread-filled, horrifying, rich in blessings and gratitude.

I've wanted to write about it. I did write a bit, about Aunt Alice, and about the campout and some hijinx. But because I feel that I have been either living moment-to-moment (in stress) or recovering (possibly hiding) from the stress, it has been impossible to write as much as I'd have liked. I think if I am ever going to process what has come to pass in the last few months, writing is what needs to happen. Bear with me; this will be in several chapters.

old 1st

Rose window, taken from across VanNess Ave

Visited a different church yesterday, Old First Presbyterian in SF, on Van Ness Ave. It's a place I've wanted to visit since I first saw the place a few summers ago (whilst waiting for T. to buy some sound equipment at the Guitar Center.) I took these photos then, not on Sunday...

Since that first glimpse, I've learned a few things about the church: They are the oldest active Protestant congregation in the state. They are a More Light congregation. And a local saint, Glenda Hope, was ordained into service by that congregation. Since I'm taking a bit of a break from Bethany, I thought I'd stop by and see for myself what they're up to.

the narthex is ornately painted and illuminated

I did not arrive on time. I was actually vacillating about whether to go or not... and I ended up splitting the difference and going 30 minutes late. The sermon had just begun when I walked in. I was being warmly greeted by an usher (who "ushed" me to sign the guest book and then "ushed" me to put on a name tag, and then "ushed" pointed out to me through the plate glass window - the entrance doubles as a crying room - a good place to sit) when I recognized a familiar, drawling voice. "Is that Glenda?!" Yes indeed, it was.

Rose window, from inside the Sanctuary

I had stumbled upon the celebration of Glenda's 40th anniversary of her ordination into the Ministry of Word and Sacrament. (In 1970 it was no small thing to ordain a woman to be the pastor of a church!) It was an honor to hear her preach, and that honor was doubled when she served me communion later.

I enjoyed my time at Old First. When I have visited churches in the past, they have mostly not been Presbyterian. This time, the liturgy was familiar, as was the hymnal and even the congregation... it was as if I was visiting a branch of the family I'd not yet met. The pipe organ was impressive, the choir was ... adequate, the hymns familiar, joyful and decidedly not weird - a nice change of pace for me.

exterior detail

There was an adult baptism, an infant baptism, and new members were welcomed. Communion was served in a simple and beautiful way, by intinction. They offer the congregation the choice of wine or grape juice - those who choose wine walk up the chancel steps to where the pastors serve (which is how I managed to be served by Rev. Hope.) I cannot remember the last time I had wine for communion, but it was a very long time ago, and I truly appreciated the difference.

Perhaps the most blessed thing about my experience was that I was totally unknown. All I needed to do was be there. No meetings after, no one I "had to" speak with, no duties, no distractions. It was peaceful. I want to go back - this time, for the whole service. Maybe in a couple of weeks.

exterior brick work