But what about the rest of us?

I see people dashing about in the stores with thier carts loaded with gifts.  Christmas music is blaring over the intercom and seems to spur them into a fever of shopping.  I continue to the fabric section because I need 2 yards of blue gingham for an order.  Nothing else.  The lady at the measuring table folds the 2 yards and lays the ticket on top of it.  As she pushes it towards me she smiles brightly and says "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays " or some such nonsense.  "Thanks", I mutter, ;not bothering to return the greeting.  I am glad she is in the holiday spirit.  I almost wished I could be.  But I am not and there is very little chance I will get into it.

Don't get me wrong on the Christmas thing.  I love Christmas.  I love the baby Jesus and the wise men and all that.  What I don't love is the commercialism that has taken it from a religious  holiday to a shopping frenzy and Santa Claus trying to out do each other.  I like to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and put a roof over everyone's head.  But I am not going shopping.  I am not buying presents.  Just not buying into the whole thing.

Several years back I gave away all my Christmas decorations.  All the outside lights went also.  And along with the trinkets and baubles went any  appearance of adhereing to the Christmas season frivolities.  Now don't get me wrong.  I celebrate Christmas, but I do it at church and it is for the birth of Jesus and all the symbolism asscoiated with that.  I do not buy presents and I do not want presents bought for me.  For most of my adult life I bought for a Christmas list that was 45 people long and I enjoyed doing it.  Then one year I looked around and I did not know who had given me what, nor did I remember what I gave anyone else.  Consquently it was the same year my husband died.  I made the turkey and the ham just like years before, but it was not the same.

I may have just lived long enough and seen enough to become jaded, but it is what it is.  I can not judge those who continue to fight the crowds nor do I want to.  By the same token, I do not want you to judge me.    I like to be alone, not that I am anti social, I just  like solitude.  Christmas seems to bring all my sad thoughts to the front and every year it gets harder and harder to cope with the holiday season.  Do I remember a time when I really enjoyed Christmas?  Not really.  I suppose when the kids were little and I could surprise them with Santa Claus things, I was happy.  But even then I remember how hard I had to work to do that.  I guess life has just never came easy for me in that aspect.

So Christmas will come in 4 days.  But before Christmas comes, I have an anniversary.  Kenny and I would have celebrated  34 years together on December 23.  So there you go.  Another thing I can do alone.

15 degrees below zero.

32 years ago today it was 15 degrees below zero.  Bet you wonder how I can remember that and still not remember where I put those car keys 30 minutes ago!  Very simple.  32 years ago I was living with a man named Kenneth Mercer.  We had discussed marriage, but this time I really wanted to be sure, as did he, that it was meant to be.  He was replacing the drive line in one of the tandem dump trucks we owned.  When he went to Pueblo Brake and Clutch to pick up the repaired part they were closed.  It was thier Christmas party as I recall.  So he came home.

He told me he could not finish the truck and so we might as well go to Canon City and "get this shittin' mess over with.".  Now what woman in her right mind could turn down a proposal like that?  So off we went and to make a long story short, we got our license and then sought a minister or someone who could do the deed.  I do not recall his name, but he and his wife were in the senior housing close to the court house.  He mumbled a few words, caught a woman in the hall to be  a witness and then had his wife, who was in the bed in the next room, sign as the second witness.  Kenneth paid him $20.00 and we left to go have our wedding supper which was a donut at the donut house since neither of us were very hungry.

And thus began a friendship that would span 20 years until his death in 2003.  Funny how life leads us in one direction and then another, isn't it?  We were a very unlikely couple, but our wants and needs seemed compatible.  His kids were grown and gone and I had 2 still at home.  Mine did not need a father, but he filled the position as an adult male companion.  It worked well.

I will not attempt to describe our life together.  Suffice it to say when I became a widow at the tender age of 62,  I thought about returning to Kansas.  But, by that time Colorado was my home.  I do entertain ideas of "going back" especially when things happen like losing my sister this week.  Someday I may, but not now.  For now Pueblo is my refuge.  My port in the storm.  My anchor in life's ocean.

One of my friends was by today, but  I never mentioned the anniversary.  An anniversary just marks a point in time that something happened.  Like a dot on the timeline of life.  So as I pack to go bury my sister, I just note that the temperature right now is 43 degrees.  That is a difference of 58 degrees.

And life goes on.

December 23, 1983

Thirty years ago Kenneth was putting a drive line in a tandem dump truck.  Gene Baugh was helping him.  The temperature was -15 degrees.  They went to Pueblo Brake and Clutch to pick up the repaired drive line and the place was closed.  What to do now?  We had discussed marriage for the past year, so he sent Gene home and turned to me and said, "Well, let's get this shittin' mess over with!"
Now what girl could resist a proposal like that?  While he jumped in the shower, I donned my wedding apparel.  I dug out my new jeans, a gingham shirt with flowers on the yoke, my white cowboy(girl) boots and we were off to Canon City.  Buying the license took about 3 minutes and then we were given a list of ministers who would do the deed.  We chose one in the assisted living facility just up the street.  We could not meet with him until 4  o'clock so we went to the doughnut shop  and had our wedding supper.  He had a plain raised doughnut and I chose a chocolate covered one.  Coffee was our beverage of choice!
We arrived promptly at the 3rd floor suite at 4 P.M.  The minister signed the license and pronounced us man and wife, then went in search of witnesses.  His wife was bedridden so we stuck our heads around the corner and she smiled at us.  That was one.  He stepped into the hall, waved someone down and we never laid eyes on number 2.  Kenneth paid the man and we came home.  At home we found a cheap bottle of wine in the center of the table.  Seems Gene knew our plans.  We did not open the wine for over six months and then only to get rid of it.  That took three or 4 tries!  But thanks any way, Gene!
Now thirty years later, I can still remember the temperature on that day!  It is going to get up to 51 today.  That is alright.  Kenny has been gone almost ten years, but I do not think his memory has faded at all.  I still hear him.  I still see him.  His ashes are still beside my bed.  While everything has changed, it has still stayed the same.

Happy 30th Anniversary

Kenneth and Louella Mercer!

 

Happy Anniversary to me.

 First let me say, I do not share this anniversary with Kay and Frank. Thiers is in August.  That is why it catches me off guard when i see it in the church bulletin.  That is a mistake every year.

Well, it is Friday, December 23, 2011. I know where I was on this date in 1983 and I know what temperature it was.  I was here, in this house preparing to become a new bride.  Kenny and I had been living together for just over a year.  My theory on that was that I did not have a very good track record in the marriage department, so I decided if we could live together for one year that it should be good to go.  So now the year was up.

Kenny had dropped a drive line in one of the dump trucks and had left it to be repaired at Pueblo Brake and Clutch.  Gene Baugh was helping him on the repair work.  It was -15 degrees so working outside was not a fun thing anyway.  Well, about 11 AM they had gone to pick up the drive line and found the shop closed for the Christmas Party.  No way to get it and so what to do with the rest of the day?  We had decided a while back that marriage was definitely an option, so him being the romantic that he was, he stomped the snow off his boots, slammed the door behind himself and announced, "Well, let's go get this shittin' mess over with!"

Now, ladies, who could resist anything that romantic?  I happened to have a new pair of jeans, a very nice checkered western shirt, and a new pair of white cowgirl boots.  He had some nice Levi's and a clean shirt, and wellington boots.  So off we toodled to Canon City.  Went there because Pueblo published marriage licenses in the paper every day and we did not want the fuss and bother of explaining why we never invited anyone.  We got to the Canon City courthouse about 30 minutes before closing, grabbed out license and the name of a retired minister and away we went.  4th floor of the retirement home.  Nice little man, but I forgot his name.  Two witnesses to sign.  One was his wife who was bedridden and another was walking down the hall and knew how to spell her name.  Whole thing took about 7 minutes and that included introductions, staging, and paying for his
services.  Then it was off to our wedding supper.  That was a chocolate covered doughnut and a cup of coffee at the doughnut shop.

When we got home we found a note from Gene.  "Congratulations!"  And a bottle of very cheap wine.  We never did get that gagged down.  We asked Gene to share a few months later and his response was "If I knew I had to drink it I would have got the good stuff."  Finally found a son in law who could be talked into drinking about anything.  He shook it up good and when he took his thumb off the cork, it flew out of the bottle, hit the ceiling, and ricocheted into the side of my head and almost cold cocked me.  Made him take it with him when he left since he was the last one to touch the bottle.

So now here I set 28 years later.  It is -7 below zero.  Got a foot and a half of snow out there on the level.  Got no Kenny, but I got a lot of memories.  It may have started out  a little non traditional, but it was quite the ride and I would not undo one minute of those years.  And when life gets a bit more than I can handle, I remember Kenny and the song he always said was "ours" and when you have that once in your life, once is probably enough.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EigVvZMw3Ds&feature=fvsr

All these years and now Friday is coming!

This is going to be a Happy Anniversary to Frank and Kay, Friday I mean.  And I am going to do a special on that day because that is also the anniversary of Kenny and I.  Funny how I have known Kay and Frank all these years and it just dawned on me that we shared this day in history.  Guess that is because I been walking around all wrapped up in myself all these years.  Best part of this is that a couple (?) years back I helped plan a surprise Anniversary party for them with their son.  Dense, dense, dense!
So now I am pretty busy with year end orders for eBay and trying to contend with this foot of snow here in my yard and all up my driveway, and the daughter is here and we are making her a quilt.  So,  I will see you on Friday.  In the meantime, if any of you want to come and lend me a hand, you just feel free to come on over with your shovel.  Right now it is 2 degrees.

Twenty-seven years ago today.

Twenty-seven years ago today it was 15 degrees below zero.  There was snow on the ground and the drive line was out on one of our trucks.  Bet you think I  have total recall?  No, just some days I can actually remember better than others.

You see, at that time I was a living in sin with a man and had been for over a year.  I do not have a very good track record with the men, you know.  Seems to me that the quickest way to turn one of those fellows from a saint to a raging lunatic is to slip a ring on that third finger, left hand.  This guy was perfect.  We had the same sense of humor, same goals in life, both loved to fish, I liked his kids, they tolerated me, my kids liked him and so there was just one problem.  Could this match that seemed made in heaven remain so if it were on a 24/7 basis.

Our solution was to live together for one year and if at the end of that year we still felt the same, we would do the deed, so to speak.  So we found this little place back here on a back acre with a huge garage.  House was nothing to write home about and was in fact, not finished.  They had put a door on the bathroom and that was it for the inside.  They were getting a divorce and the price was right.  But the best part was a huge two story garage in the back that was a trucker's dream.  So we combined his house and mine into one household and set up housekeeping.

Now, I need to tell you this one little thing, Kenny was not near as liberal minded as I was.  He did not like Mexicans, Negroes, or Gays.  Well, it seems I had all those in my family and he tolerated them well.   OOPS! His daughter divorced her white guy and married an Indian!  Well, by now we were looking like the United Nations around here.  Dinner at our house on holidays looked like Calico Bean Soup!

So on December 23, 1983 we were working an Eby pipeline job down the center of Prairie.  The job was shut down for the holidays.  One of our tandems had broken a drive line so Kenny and Gene Baugh had taken it out the day before and dropped it off to be rebuilt at Pueblo Brake and Clutch.  December 23 they went to Pueblo Brake and Clutch to pick it up and they were closed for their Christmas party!  It being 15 degrees below zero the little guys decided to call it a day.  Gene went home and Kenny came in the house.  I can never forget that romantic little fellow that day.

He walked in, looked at me and said,( and this is a direct quote ) "Well, let's go get this shittin' mess over with!"  Now how could a woman of my stature resist  a proposal like that!

Luckily I had a new pair of jeans and his were passable.  So off we went to Canon City, thirty five miles west of here.  Now why we did not just go to town is more than I can figure out, but Canon it was.  We picked up our license and were referred to a Senior Citizen assisted living place somewhere and assured we could find a minister there.  We did.    The minister told us to come back at 4:00 and he would be ready.  So we went and got a doughnut at the doughnut shop and returned at the appointed time.

As you know, at that time we needed 2 witnesses.  His wife was bedridden and we had to poke our head around the corner so she could see us before she would sign.  The second one was somebody wandering the halls and we never laid eyes on her.  But by then the ceremony (?) was complete, we paid our fee and came home.  Do not remember the ministers name, where we were or any of the particulars, but I know it was cold!  We came home and found a bottle of wine on the kitchen table.  Seems Gene had figured out what we were up to that cold day!  I might add that several months later we asked Gene if he would like to have a glass since it had not been opened yet and his reply was (another direct quote) "Oh shit!  If I knew I had to drink it I would have gotten the good stuff!"

We did finally talk a son-in-law (since replaced) into doing it for us.  He shook it up, popped the cork and shot me in the head with it.  Gotta' love these kids!

And to any one who wonders if it was worth it all, it sure was.  Those twenty years were what made me the woman I am today.  Kenny Mercer was the person in my life who reached inside me and brought out the good.  He was the man who gave me the self esteem to say "Yes, I can!"  He gave me a home and security and the means to be independent.  He gave me common sense to make the right decisions on this road alone.  He was not much of a church going guy, but he went with me lot.  Pastor Faye baptised him.

Now, I do need to tell you this.  He did not do all the teaching.  As time went by my bigoted, racist, Republican husband became an open and affirming member of society.  He was the first to jump on the band wagon for gay rights,
the first to defend the migrant population, and his grand kids were the greatest things on earth what ever color they were.  He went from being a staunch Republican to being an Independent and bless his little Democratic heart when it stopped beating.

So that is my tale.  Life for me this time of year gets a little melancholy, but I think Garth Brooks says it all in his song, part of which says something like this, "Some things are better left to chance, I could have missed it all, but I'd a had to miss The Dance!"
 
That part of the dance is over.  Not forgotten and the strains of the music still play in my head, and I fully expect to hear it when I waltz off the edge of this realm and into that great beyond.  I have the belief that life is meant to be just that! Do not light your candle and hide it under a bushel!  Put it on a hill where the whole world can benefit from your light.  I learned that in Sunday school more years ago then I care to remember.  That and "Life goes on."