Hello Dolly!

 The mystery is solved.  Our son and daughter-in-law left the 1943 card for us to find thinking I might know someone to give it to, and I think I do.  They bought it at a 'discount bin place' for 50 cents and worth every penny.  But even after I knew this, one part of the card kept running through my mind - the reference to a Betsy Wetsy doll.  I had a Betsy Wetsy doll.  Very "realistic" - you put a tiny bottle with water in it into its little open mouth and squeezed.  The doll 'drank' the water and pretty soon it came leaking out the other end into its little diaper.  I don't remember why that seemed like so much fun.  Dolls were a big part of my childhood.  When I was five my father built me a beautiful little cradle and Christmas morning it was under the tree with little twin baby dolls in it.  They didn't do anything but they were so cute.  I had a cousin just a year older than me and we played with dolls whenever we got together. I had one beautiful doll, a forerunner of the American Girl dolls. We had to replace the wig on that one after my younger brother (not my west coast brother) plucked all the fuzz off its head to rub under his nose while he sucked his thumb. There's nothing sadder than a beautiful doll with a big bald spot on the top of her head.  That doll went from being a curly red head to a blond with long braids.  There was a doll hospital in New Haven where the transformation took place.  In addition to real dolls, my cousin and I spent a lot of time playing with paper dolls - the little dolls with lots of cute clothes that came before Barbies.  We spent hours dressing those dolls in the costumes they came with, usually in book format where all the clothes needed to be cut out.  Being very careful not to cut off the tabs.  We also traced around the dolls and created our own fabulous styles.  Another wonderful source of paper clothes were the Sears and Montgomery Ward catalogs.  Those big fat books contained pages and pages of women's fashions and we could always find some that would fit our paper dolls.  Those dolls didn't come with beach houses or pink cars but I'm pretty sure we had just as much fun with them as little girls playing with Barbies do now.    

the mystery gift

 Today, as my spouse and I were packing away the last of the Christmas decor scattered around the house, we found a clear plastic wrapped flat package which had slid down between the family room couch and an end table.  When we opened it we discovered a large tri-fold card titled "Back in 1943."  Neither of us had seen this before.  We think that someone may have brought it to my birthday party earlier in December (because we had said cards, no gifts) and while here realized that, since I had just turned 80, I must have been born in 1944 not 1943.  So, our best guess is they just left it behind??? However it happened I am enjoying looking at it.  It lists all sorts of things that happened between 1948 and 1968, from the time I started kindergarten to the year I got married the first time.  Definitely my formative years.  Here are some of my favorites - Sky King and Lassie on TV, also Leave it to Beaver and Gunsmoke, my Betsy Wetsy doll, the "Little House" books, Bazooka Bubblegum, Tootsie Rolls, proms, and Elvis Presley (I saw him in concert when I was 13).  Thank you, thank you to the mystery person who left this behind.  It's being lots of fun.  

Good times...

 Recently I've received emails from high school classmates reminiscing about the "good old days."  I've also seen similar posts on Facebook with pictures questioning if I remember certain devices and how we used them.  Yes, in case you're wondering, I do know how to use a dial telephone and I know what a 'church key' was for.  However today I realized that there are a lot of things to celebrate about the Good New Days.  For example, this morning my spouse and I chose to stay home and attend church on line.  It was a very cold morning.  The service was lovely, the sermon was excellent, and we even had our choice of wine for communion.  I don't do couch church every Sunday, but it's a nice option to have available.  Later in the day when we had to go out, we enjoyed the luxury of seat heaters in our car.  My father's Chevy never had those, let alone my grandpa's one-horse power surrey.  Can you imagine what a cold ride that must have been?  Just writing this on my laptop I remember the frustration of learning to type using carbon paper to make copies.  There's a reason I never became a secretary.  One more example - on Tuesday evening I will be attending a committee meeting by Zoom.  Now there is an excellent modern invention.  We all agreed it would be more convenient that way.  Yes!  Let's hear it for the good new days.  

tree down...

Here's a picture of our Christmas tree as it looked in all its glory  when we set it up in December.

And here is how it looks this evening after being totally de-constructed.  All branches removed and stored in a large bin, and the top covered with a large trash bag to keep it dust free in the basement until next year.

About half way through the deconstruction process each year (especially when I'm fighting with the lights that have somehow gotten tangled while just being on the tree) is when I start to think that I really should get a new tree.  This one is, after all, over 40 years old.  My kids and grandkids have grown up with this tree.  I could get a nifty, easy to fold away pre-lit tree, possibly less than seven feet tall.  Just unfold it and add some ornaments.  I could do that and I might do that, maybe next year? Or maybe not.  
 

Really???

 Imagine my astonishment when my west coast brother told me that he cooked aebleskivers and bacon for his grandchildren this morning for breakfast.  Who knew that he knew how to prepare such a delectable dish?  I certainly didn't.  But then, to be perfectly honest, I had never even heard of aebleskivers until today.  It's not part of my German heritage.  My west coast brother further assured me that he does indeed have the proper pan for baking aebleskivers.  It seems that his daughter (the mother of the grandchildren for whom he was cooking today) gave him the pan some years ago.  That was rather clever of her I think.  The pan he has can make waffles, pancakes or aebleskivers, but only one at a time.  Hummm??? My wonder spouse is a very good cook. Perhaps I should get him an aebleskivers pan as a belated Christmas gift?  The kind of gift that keeps on giving.  Perhaps I'll sleep on it.  Today is, after all, "Festival of Sleep Day."  I think it's not a coincidence that this comes right after the holidays.  Good night.  Sleep well. Perhaps you'll dream of aebleskivers

What goes up...

 ..must come down. I'm sure you are familiar with that wise old saying.  I first learned the truth of it as a child while tossing a baseball up in the air.  One missed catch smacked me in the nose. 

But now I am confronted with a different kind of coming down. Emotionally, my spouse and I are coming down from the high of holiday entertaining and travel to face the grim reality.   It's time to take down my good old tree.  It is not a throwaway.  We will box it up until next year.  We're making some progress.  We actually hauled up all of the Ornament boxes from their storage space in the basement.  

We were getting a start on the undecorating when my spouse's son stopped by to pick up a dish left behind on Christmas day.  We visited for a while and munched on some leftover Christmas candy, before finally deciding that we really should go out for pizza. That is what you do, after all, when all of the Christmas leftovers have finally been consumed. 

And so we did, and so we shall take down the tree tomorrow.  And if that doesn't work out, there's always Saturday. 

No thank you...

 Well, 2025 is off to a good start for my spouse and myself.  We have enjoyed not going anywhere or doing anything except relaxing.  I did get a few thank you notes written and we both ate more than we should have of gift cookies and rum balls.  What we did not do, however, is take the Polar Plunge.  Many people did.  It looked like a big crowd on TV.  My west coast brother informed me that people in Washington state were also stripping down to their bathing suits and jumping into frigid water.  Evidently the water around here was about 40 degrees.  Burrrrrr!!  One young man being interviewed explained to the well bundled up reporter that it was "fun and exhilarating."  At least I think that's what he said.  His teeth were chattering so much it was hard to tell.  Not only do I not want to take the Polar Plunge, I don't even want to go stand around and watch as others do it.  Not sure if that makes me old, or just sensible.  I can live with either label.