As I’ve gotten older my wish list for Christmas has changed. Has yours? Elegante Mother would still like to have a fire engine red sexy convertible and a handsome young man to chauffeur her around. My “wants” are usually simpler. I don’t need or want a fur coat. Dear Husband used to give me a burgundy scarf and mittens every year, and I haven’t quite worn out the last two. (I rather miss those gifts.) I have a perfectly good car that gets me where I am going, so I don’t need to follow EM’s footsteps. There are a few things I’d like to have that I need to buy for myself, and other than that, DVDs, CDs, books and gift certificates to my favorite quilt fabric shop make up my list.
This year I received “Wall-E,” “No Country for Old Men,” “Bucket List” and the fourth episode of the Indiana Jones story. I also have my first Michael Buble CD and the Josh Groban Christmas CD. I’m a happy camper!
The big item that I need to shop for on my own? Two, actually. One is a new sewing machine, and the other is a long-arm quilting machine. I need to try out different models so that I can choose the one I’d like to use. I hope to buy them before we retire. I’d also like to purchase the cabinetry to set up the sewing machine. Right now I sew at a Samsonite table, and it’s a bit crowded.
We used to say of my father that anything he wanted that he didn’t already have we couldn’t afford to get for him, and I may have hit that point in my life. There’s an exception, though. My youngest sister and her husband gave me earrings and a necklace this year that are gorgeous. She managed to find stones that incorporate my favorite colors and added an elegant silver necklace. They weren’t on my list, but I’m delighted to have them.
Perhaps we should stop with the wish lists, and just let people give us gifts of their own choosing. What do you think?

At a time when I should be buoyed by the lightness of the season and be filled with good cheer, I’m ticked. I know that I shouldn’t have let this situation get to me, but I really regret the loss of manners that I see everywhere these days. I sound like an old fogy, and I probably am one, but where in the world has the ability to treat others civilly gone?
Last night my youngest stepson and his wife came to exchange Christmas gifts. They had gone to her family for Christmas rather than joining his family. Stepson Three called several days ago to ask if they could visit with us yesterday. When I asked him what time he said, “Afternoon.” That left a lot of leeway, but I figured we would be having a quiet afternoon at home, so it wasn’t a problem.
I should insert here that my daughter-in-law (I only have one of them) has been put on a very restricted diet. It’s so restricted that I hate to ask her about it, because rather than telling me what she can eat, she always goes down the list of things she can’t eat. It gets confusing trying to remember everyone’s likes and dislikes and cans and can’ts, and after a while, I shut some of it out. I’m not perfect, and I have a lot of other things on my mind.
Sooooooooooo….the kids finally arrived around four, and sat with us to watch an hour of Dr. Who reruns. Dear Husband was getting hungry and assumed that I hadn’t planned any dinner. (We all know better, but he didn’t ask me what I had planned). It was decided that he would order pizza. Well, I knew that my DIL couldn’t have pizza. There was some discussion of offering a salad, but no one made a move toward the kitchen, so I assumed that it was my job. I got up and emptied the refrigerator.
I offered seven veggies, three meats, four cheeses, five condiments and about six salad dressing. Too bad I didn’t have the partridge and the pear tree, to go along with that! I laid it all out in an attractive pattern, put out bowls and forks, and set out beverages.
The pizza came, and the guys got up to help themselves. I fixed a salad for Elegante Mother, and added it to a plate with little squares of pizza, and some Greek olives. I took it into the living room for her, and encouraged my DIL to join me in the kitchen so I could tell her what I had laid out. (I had diced up lunch meat, so she might have needed to know which was ham and which was turkey.
Her response was, “NO! I’m not eating.”
What ever happened to “Thank you.” Why did this girl’s mother not teach her any social graces? She was sitting where she could see me putting all of this together. Did she really think I was doing it for the guys, who would be consuming gargantuan amounts of pizza???
A simple, “Thanks, but my diet is so restrictive, I’ll have to pass on dinner,” would have fallen more kindly on my ears. I was ticked then, and I’m still ticked now.
AND, it bothers me that she never speaks to my mother. I thought we might have a problem, because my mother has never cared for my DIL. She has always felt ignored. I don’t know if my DIL simply doesn’t know what to say to her, or doesn’t care to acknowledge her. For whatever reason, my mother has always disliked her, and unfortunately, that was one of the things EM could still remember. I needed to reassure my mother that she would be okay, and that my DIL wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.
I think we need to have compulsory Manners 100. A crash course to cover the near future, leading in to 101, 102, 201, 202, 301, 302, 401, and independent study would be a really good idea!!
Do you think I am asking too much?