To Stress or Not

Once Thanksgiving was over I determined that I would be prepared for Christmas early. So as to enjoy the season, you see. My shopping was done by Thanksgiving, leaving very little to worry about. Or so I thought in my pollyanna mind. I decorated and wrapped early. But I've discovered that open time just invites more activity and that leads to pressure to do what could be done. Not that I actually had any open time; just the anticipation of it. Are you following me here? Christmas is a week away and I'm still not ready. How did that happen? Why must I feel such pressure to do all that is in my mind as a possibility? And so I'm stressed.

My sister, Maryanne, visited us this past week. You can see her here with me in front of our Christmas tree. It was fun to have her with us for a little while and my mom loved it. Mom is slowing down a little. She mostly wants to lie in our lazy-boy. I've decided not to bug her about being more active as I have been doing. She moves as I ask her to but isn't interested in doing anything on her own. Maryanne came to us with a broken foot and various other ailments. I suppose I must own up to growing older and accepting the limitations that eventually brings. But I don't want to.

My non-dancing husband now asks me to dance with him each day. It is a dancing woman's dream. You see we have agreed to be the "old folks" in a Nutcracker production on Temple Hill. That seemed like an easy thing. But we are doing two dances and Layne has a brief solo part in the first act! We have had rehearsals each Saturday for what seems like a long time. Layne wants to do our part to perfection, so we practice on our own regularly. I like it! We perform this weekend. It has been nothing but fun. I don't even feel much concern about performing. But, after this weekend, my dancing invitations from Layne will end. Or maybe he'll be hooked on dancing with me and be anxious to continue. What do you think the chances of that happening are?

Picture to the right is our youngest granddaughter, Abigail, with the baby Jesus. She loves him!