A totally Falterian holiday

Yep, Cecilia made it for Thanksgiving, snatched from the jaws of another holiday with Uncle Warren and Grammie Brooks in Colebrook, N.H. This was her year to surround herself with her Falter family, a mellow bunch indeed. It's as close as you'll get to no drama and whatever.

So here's Mitch with his two wee ones, with baby Thomas being the most recent cause for gratitude and also being Mr. Popularity all day, eager faces watching him sleep and waiting for the first sign of his stirring.















Beth was chauffeur-in-chief, auntie extraordinaire, extreme sports champion in stuffing the stuffing, and kitchen elf. Dave did an ace job of chilling out and hanging with the Falters.





Laurie found a master turkey carver in Zach, and she and Mitch worked the kitchen to make it all look easy.


There were no Bumpass hound incidents, no gravy dumped on anyone's lap, no quarrels, no complaints. Just a warm and fuzzy family holiday and some Kodak moments, like this one of big sister Cecilia snuggling her new baby brother.

We gather together...

... to celebrate our bounty. And we all have a lot to be grateful for today, most of all for each other.

And, um, a new president and a new beginning.

So no matter who or what we are, I hope we are gathered around a table somewhere, feeling loved, even if we pull up to that table in a garbage can or wearing fangs.

Happy Thanksgiving to my Ajax Rock family.

May the blessings be.

Start your shopping carts

So how many of you are going to do your patriotic duty and go shopping on Friday?

How many of you think it's really, really stupid to be herded like cattle and roped into this annual "Black Friday" shopping frenzy?

How many of you find a surreal contradiction between being told to save your money because the sky is falling at the same time you're being told that the only way to stave off certain disaster is to spend your money?

Here's my quandary: I love to give presents, but I hate to shop. For me, the answer is the virtual shopping cart, which I can fill up to my heart's content, park on whatever Web site, and either go back and roll it through the check-out line or, conversely, leave it there in cyberspace indefinitely.

One thing I know for sure: The thought of being mobbed at any store and waiting in line forever to spend my money is worse than having my eyes poked out with hot sticks. There's not one thing I want badly enough to go through that kind of torture.

And here's another thing I'm old enough to know for sure: In the last 30 years, shopping has become a hobby, a sport, not something we do in the tradition of hunting and gathering. It's something we do to have something to do.

So I'm already sick of hearing about the poor retailers and how they are suffering and will suffer more if we don't show up with our credit cards. Here's my harsh opinion. I don't care one whit about the retail market. All I can remember is that Christmas was a lot more fun when we made things ourselves and traded tokens of our affection rather than unloading a dumpster's worth of stuff on everyone we love. It just was.

So here's what my shopping cart is going to look like on Friday. If you look real close, you'll see the real spirit of Christmas under those dry leaves.

This does not mean that nobody will receive a gift from me at Christmas, but it does mean that sometimes the gifts that mean the most aren't found in any shopping cart at all. They just magically appear under our trees come Christmas morning.

Almost sweet sixteen

We seem to be on a Cecilia roll here, so I'm posting a fairly recent photo of her, taken in Ireland last summer.

Here's looking at you, kiddo!

See you in just a few days.

Cecilias

So, in honor of her birthday, I thought I would share a couple of my favorite Cecilia stories, for those of you who are not lucky enough to know her well.

My all time favorite Cecilia story takes place in Cape Cod about 12 years ago. Me, mom, Mitch, Laurie and Cecilia went to the beach for the day. We were hangin' out on our beach blanket, Cecilia was looking at a book she'd brought (yes, a four year old brought a BOOK to the beach!). Suddenly, we heard the magical sound that lifts every heart - the jingle of the Good Humor ice cream truck. Naturally, we were all up and running pell mell towards the sound - when halfway there, I realized there was no Cecilia. Alarmed, I figured her leg must be broken so I turned back to find her (this, by the way is a Big Deal - usually nothing stands in the way of me and ice cream. So, dear niece, should you ever doubt my love for you, remember - I went back for you). And there she was, still sitting on the blanket, looking at her book. Our exchange went something like this:
Me: Good God child, what is wrong with you - there's ICE CREAM over there!
Cecilia: No thank you, I haven't eaten my lunch yet.
And back to looking at her book, without a second thought.

True story. I have to admit, it crossed my mind that there might have been a mix up at the hospital. Fortunately, she has since blossomed into a true Falter, dispelling any doubts I may once have had.

Second story:
This one takes place in a large chain bookstore. She was about 2 or so. She was standing in line with her mom waiting to check out and was playing with the tall thing that holds postcards. Angie got annoyed and told her to sit down and cross her hands in her lap, which she did without any fuss at all. But, when Angie's back was turned, Cecilia reached out and plucked a single postcard off the rack and set it gently on the floor. She then crossed her hands and sat quietly for the rest of her penance. I was, I have to admit, delighted at this small act of non-violent resistance.

Final Story:
When Cecilia was around 8 or 9, I again became alarmed at her unfailing Goodness and lack of overall mischief. So, one day I asked he what the worst thing she had ever done was. She thought for a moment and then, her face fell and she couldn't look me in the eye (at this point, I was a little excited, thinking I was going to get something juicy to blackmail her in the future with). And she said quietly to the floor "Once, my mom told me not to take my scissors outside, and, I... did". I kid you not, she looked like she was going to cry with shame. Of course, I beat her soundly for the infraction, so I don't think we have to worry about it becoming a habit.

So that's just a little insight into my little baby niece. Who, by the way, has been more mature and responsible than her auntie since she was, oh, around 2.

MY BABY IS COMING!!!

In less than one week, I will have my tiny infant niece Cecilia in my clutches. I will smother her, snuggle her and bounce her on my hip. I will dress her in bonnets and pinafores and give her a bottle whenever she asks. I will place those little fingerless mittens on her hands so she doesn't skwatch herself wif her tiny little fingernails and I will swaddle her tightly to keep her from fussing. I can't wait!!!!

Chow down

I know it's supposed to have something to do with the Pilgrims and all that stuff, but when it comes right down to it, it's about family and food and gratitude for both.

This whole blog is really a tribute to family, so let's get down to the food part.

Yeah, there's turkey, but the real stars of the meal for me are the cranberries, shown here in their natural state (no, Laurie, not jellied and cylindrical with the markings of the tin can still pressed into the blob) in a bog on Cape Cod.

When I lived on the Cape, I loved the cranberry bogs, and watching the harvesting of the plump, sour, red berries was fascinating. Sure, it takes a lot of sugar to make them edible, but it's all worth it. What's a hunk of turkey breast without a spoonful of whole-berry cranberry sauce?

And then there's this:
Last year, we actually had Thanksgiving dinner without the pumpkin pie! Everyone thought someone else was bringing the pie. So we have the pumpkin, another unsung round thing from the fruit and vegetable group. And add to that the New England must-have -- turnips. It wasn't until I married George that the turnip tradition began.

What's your favorite part of the Thanksgiving feast? The one thing that fills your heart with gratitude? I've known people who had to have creamed onions (What's that all about, anyway?) and green bean casserole and oysters in their stuffing.

For me, it's all about the cranberries and the pumpkin pie.

How to get your red bicycle

I mean no disrespect here. We've all been or know a desperate little kid! This just made me laugh out loud today, and I thought the rest of you might want a chuckle. ;)


Little Carol came into the kitchen where her mother was making dinner. Her birthday was coming up and she thought this was a good time to tell her mother what she wanted. 'Mom, I want a bike for my birthday.'

Now, Little Carol was a bit of a troublemaker. She had gotten into trouble at school and at home. Carol 's mother asked her if she thought she deserved to get a bike for her birthday. Little Carol , of course, thought she did.

Carol's mother, being a Christian woman, wanted her to reflect on her behavior over the last year, and write a letter to God and tell him why she deserved a bike for her birthday. Little Carol stomped up the steps to her room and sat down to write God a letter.

LETTER 1:

Dear God:
I have been a very good girl this year and I would like a bike for my birthday. I want a red one.

Your friend,
Carol

Carol knew this wasn't true. She had not been a very good girl this year, so she tore up the letter and started over.


LETTER 2:

Dear God:
This is your friend Carol . I have been a pretty good girl this year, and I would like a red bike for my birthday.
Thank you,
Carol

Carol knew this wasn't true either. She tore up the letter and started again.

LETTER 3:

Dear God:

I know I haven't been a good girl this year. I am very sorry. I will be a good girl if you just send me a red bike for my birthday.
Thank you,
Carol

Carol knew, even if it was true, this letter was not going to get her a bike. By now, she was very upset. She went downstairs and told her mother she wanted to go to church. Carol 's mother thought her plan had worked because Carol looked very sad.

'Just be home in time for dinner,' her mother said.

Carol walked down the street to the church and up to the altar. She looked around to see if anyone was there. She picked up a statue of the Virgin Mary, slipped it under her jacket and ran out of the church, down the street, into her house, and up to her room. She shut the door and sat down and wrote her letter to God.



LETTER 4:
I GOT YOUR MAMA.
IF YOU WANT TO SEE HER AGAIN, SEND THE BIKE.

Thanksgiving yet again.

Hi all,
way back in February I wrote on here about Thanksgiving. Now we are upon that time of year again where the winds come in hard and the air turns crisp and cold. We are back to a time of year that I love and despise with equal measure. There is one very happy thing happening this Thanksgiving, however. I will be getting out of shool at 11:10 on Thursday and hopping on a flight that will be headed down south for a few days. I will be flying to see you all for Thanksgiving! There is no excitement in the air yet, no 'yes! we have vacation' but it will come and I will be right in the middle of the excitement. I have four shows left, a cast party, my birthday, and then I'm where I love to be, in the heart of Virginia (the state that went blue!) So, to break the writers block we seem to be experiencing, I thought I would thank anyone and everyone who will be giving me the best birthday present ever, a chance for a normal Thanksgiving.

Another Milestone!

Tom the Turkey is getting to be a big boy. Although he does not turn 3 months old until later this week, he is already wearing 6 months- sized clothes. Additionally, he rolled over for the first time today! He's a happy little monster man who is making progress towards sleeping-through-the-night, much to his parents' delight. Thomas would like to say hello to his second cousins Rebekah and Nick! Maybe someday they can come together in a sandbox somewhere.

It's come to this

While it was good to have the "rock on" support of many of you, this blogger has a serious case of writer's block. Constipation of the brain. Whatever you want to call it. But it's more serious than that. It's not like all kinds of things are roiling around in my head, begging for a chance to be expressed. It's that almost nothing is going on inside my head.

It's partly because I'm back on my meds and I've increased them. Kind of kills any creativity that might be there.

It's also that blah time of year, rainy and chilly and gray as a tombstone.

So this is a post to say there's nothing new to tell.

How's that for a conversation stopper?

Time to move on?

While Loie is somewhere in Texas today, heading for the border, I'm planted in my chair, musing about the future of our meeting place here on Ajax Rock.

She and I have wondered if it's not time to pack up and move on, close up shop and think of another way to keep in touch.

Maybe this little blogspot has done its job. Maybe it hasn't. But we're hoping that if you ever stop to visit here -- or if you have taken the time to share your point of view or your thoughts -- you'll let us know what you think.

We could start another blog, maybe one that's more inclusive. Or we could go back to e-mailing each other individually. Or not. As long as technology pervades our lives, though, we may as well figure out how to use it to keep connected, not to the larger world, necessarily, but to the people and places that have given us our identity, our security, our sense of belonging.

To rock or not to rock: That is the question.

Peck and the beanstalk

One thing our dad had in abundance was curiosity. Even into his ninth decade, he kept some of his boyish playfulness.

Take this tree at the edge of the road in front of their house. When it got to be about nine feet tall, Mom wanted him to prune it so it didn't look like a beanpole. He, as usual, resisted, insisting that he just wanted to see what it would do if it were left alone. He wanted to see how tall it would get, whether it would fall over in a storm, or if it would one day reach the sky.

I thought of it as Peck's beanstalk and wondered if it was magic.

When he died last October, it was Rita who took a piece of his beloved tree and tucked it into his casket. The tree, after all, spoke volumes about our dad. While our momma cared a lot about what the neighbors would think, Dad just plain didn't give a rip. He thought his tree looked grand, and, you know, when I'd visit the house and look ahead for the place I'd make my turn into the driveway, that tree became my marker.

Rita and Don took this picture when the leaves turned this fall, and I have to think that Dad would be quite proud of his beanstalk. Looks to me like it's going to reach the sky after all.

Meet the boys...

Well, I'm hitching the wagon tomorrow morning for my journey to the Yucatan. Remind me to carry cold Cokes for these boys who will stop me periodically to check to see if I'm carrying drugs. I am, of course, but not the ones they are looking for, I assume. It's pretty hot wearing those clothes and standing all day in 95º heat. They appreciate cold Cokes. No problema. Cokes for them, no problemas for me.

Another little bud on the family tree

Meet baby Rebeka Ann Kovaleski, the newest little twig on our tree. She's lucky to have Rita for her grandma, and though it may be a long time before I meet her, I'm her great-auntie.

That's her mama, Regi, with her. Regi is married to my oldest nephew Don, and they live in Tennessee. Gee, I can remember when Don was born. I was so excited to become an aunt in the sixth grade, and now he's a daddy to three girls.

Rita is just about the best grandma in the whole wide world, and she'll get to hold this little chubby-cheeked bundle at Thanksgiving. That's a lot to be thankful for, isn't it?

Nicky, Thomas and Rebeka: three little second cousins, separated by many, many miles, just like the first cousins are. Yep, we've scattered our seeds far and wide in this family, for better or for worse.

Welcome to the big family, little girl.

A picture worth thousands of words

It has been a long time coming, but today millions of people are walking with their heads a little higher, with a little bounce in their steps, with a lot more pride and the assurance that what's always been just out of reach is now possible.

I know that there are many, many people who are disappointed, angry, even afraid. For them, embracing change is like drinking the Kool-Aid. I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be on the losing side. But I do believe we want to be better than we are. That we need to look for the best in each other. That only in looking will we find it. That every single one of us is called to work for a better future for our planet and every living thing on it.

I hope for healing. I pray for reconciliation. I cannot get Gandhi's words out of my mind: An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Let's set an example for the world and put down our weapons, pick up our tools and get to work for the greater good.

A new day dawns...!

A new day is dawning in this country!! Let's all roll up our sleeves and go to work with him to make it better for all of us!!!

Hallelujah!! There IS a Santa Claus!!!

All I can do at this point!

Johnny and gang are probably out there at the 4-way stop with their huge sign, yelling and cheering, and Ms. Moon wrote a wonderful entry in her Bless Our Hearts blog, but I'm just sitting here frozen, sign in my yard, with my fingers crossed and jumping out of my skin...how about the rest of you?

Man of the Hour

I'm standing on my Ajax Rock today, looking backwards and forwards.

There have been a few times in our history when certain men have been called as president because the set of circumstances and times called for their special talents. I think of FDR who told the country, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." If ever a people needed to hear those words, it was the desperate people living through the Great Depression. Having FDR at the helm lifted them up and gave them hope, and the country was able to move forward. When FDR signed the GI Bill in 1944, he basically created the foundation for a middle-class in this country. The GI Bill was a genuine attempt to thwart a looming social and economic crisis. Yes, Franklin D. Roosevelt was indeed a Man of the Hour for America.

Then when I was 14 years old, I recognized another Man of the Hour in John F. Kennedy. All that talk about the pope taking over the country I knew, even at that young age, was not what it was about. Within the next few years, the social unrest of the 60's became quite serious with a long-dragged out war which was killing and maiming too many people, a civil rights movement which was long overdue, and the threat of nuclear war hanging over our heads. As a teenager, this was very scary and I  felt quite powerless. But I recognized in JFK another Man of the Hour, a man equipped to deal with problems in a rational, intelligent way rather than an egotistical or hot-headed way, and who would not stick his head in the sand. Yeah. A president smarter than most of us!  

And this year, after 8 years of the disaster this country and government have become (and I never used to equate the two), Barack Obama is our Man of the Hour. We really do need serious CHANGE in Washington and Obama, like Kennedy, is smarter than most of us. I know many people don't like and even fear change, preferring the pile of warm crap they're already sitting in, but I believe most of this country knows that once again, we don't need or want someone who's worked his way to president via the Peter Principle. When a Man of the Hour shows up, the people recognize him, and this Tuesday, they will elect Barack Obama as our Man of the Hour in this new millenium.

And for an excellent read, check this out: Give him the @#!% ball

P.S. Those of you who read this entry and don't agree are reminded that this entry is MINE and I get to speak my mind on my own blog. I've suffered 8 long years with your guy, and this really matters to me. I am not in the mood for spamming or trashing me or my candidate so just move on and find your own rock on which to express your opinion and don't crash my party. ≈