In my corner
By Katherine Satterfield
My time sense has experienced a hiccough in the space-time continuum. The holiday season crept up behind me, threw me to the ground and laughed.
As is wont for the season thoughts of family have entered my head.
My family has dwindled down to five through death and disagreement. One of them is in Canada.
Our family of friends was reduced by three a few years ago when a career path moved them away from our state. We see each other only every other year or so. We do talk two or three times a week. And I am grateful for that.
We make broad memories when we do get together. Thanksgiving 2011, we spent a week at Disney World. Nine of us visited all four parks, Universal Studios, saw Blue Man Group, and Cirque de Soleil’s La Nouba. We wandered the avenues of Downtown Disney.
We rode rides, and shopped. We hot-footed it through acres of attractions. And we shopped. We enjoyed each other and the parks and palaces. We were there for the lighting of the Osborne lights all the way from Little Rock in Hollywood Studios. And we shopped. We were treated. A security guy at Epcot actually offered us a prime location for the evening fireworks. We were front row. And it was amazing.
I expended so much energy that week that on the way home I tried to consume every bit of food I could lay hands on. Now I’m a big woman. And I can inhale a snack in less time than it takes to say it. But that ride home was an unprecedented snack-a-thon. Peanuts and cashews topped with a little chocolate, ok, maybe a lot of chocolate, followed breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every stop for car fuel was an inspired stop for Kathy fuel.
As the spousal unit was determined to make it home in one long run and refused to let me drive, I snacked and snoozed all the way from the middle of Florida to the middle of Arkansas.
There were boys in the backseat, sometimes stinky boys. They were plugged in and tuned out most of the time, although occasionally I would hear a huge sigh, a shifting of pillows, and a mumbled complaint about a sore butt.
The spousal unit drove on. Our sons shifted and sighed.
And sometime in the middle of that long Saturday well after night had fallen, we made it home.
I practically fell to the ground with my lips puckered.
We logged a week of memories, some sore muscles
Life is so good when you share it with friends.
When they were living here, we got together often. And often we shared meals and played games of cards or dice. On one trip to Branson we discovered that the Five and Dime had a great selection of games and so we stocked up and tried them all.
One memorable game-playing evening a visitor appeared in the double paned window overlooking my dining table. He had wandered onto the porch unseen and unheard by the dogsHis little masked face peered cautiously through the glass, his front paws poised delicately as he stood on hind legs and satisfied his curiosity. His little raccoon nose quivered expectantly. We were charmed.
The spousal unit opened the door and our furry friend split to the pecan tree.
I was grateful he hadn’t chased me across the porch, unlike a skunk that will remain unnamed.
Friends and fun and furry critters, oh my!
Now, having admitted that the holidays have descended upon me and found me unprepared, I am faced with a decorating dilemma. Do it up? Or keep it simple.
The village was retrieved from the attic Thanksgiving weekend and has taken its place in the living room above the windows. The shiny lights and Victorian charm always work their magic on me. I can turn off the household lights after everyone has gone to sleep and sit idly taking in the sight of lovely little cottages lit warmly from within and surrounded by snow and trees against their backdrop of greenery and more lights. I watch a couple dancing in the ballroom of one piece, listen to the strains of a waltz or forgo the music for a lovely silence only occasionally interrupted by the soft whuffling of a puppy snore. I can imagine a simpler time when the gifts of nuts and fruit and simple handmade gifts of a scarf or hat or a new wooden toy and the company of family and friends would have been more than enough to satisfy.
And then the reality of a busy day ahead encroaches and I make my way to bed,
there to slumber and hope for dreams of sugar plums to dance in my head.
there to slumber and hope for dreams of sugar plums to dance in my head.
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