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Cathy C. Hallhttps://cathychall.wordpress.com/I write, write, write. Then I rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. THEN I submit all those polished-up words out into the world and sell 'em. It's a plan that's worked pretty well.

The Last Day of the Decade

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When I woke up this morning, I started praying.

Not because I’m particularly saintly; it’s just a habit that began back…well, I guess back when the Junior Halls got their licenses. There is something terrifying about a sixteen-year-old behind the wheel. But that’s probably more of a mom thing–I don’t remember Mister Man being very worried–and also because this mom flunked her driving test when she was sixteen and this mom taught her kids to drive. So yeah, lots of prayers were needed.

Anyway,  the Junior Halls are well past sixteen now but I’m in the habit of praying before my feet hit the floor. Also, truth be told, I need about ten minutes to ease into the day and praying is just about the best way I can think of to ease into a day. And this morning, I thought about it being New Year’s Eve…the last day of 2019, of the decade, for cryin’ out loud.

photo-of-2020-on-pink-background-3401900Of course, I started with my usual prayers of driving safety for those kids because who knows where they’ll be or what they’ll be doing and NYE can get pretty crazy out there. But then I moved on to all that I was thankful for this year and honestly, it’s not like there was anything stupendous on the list.

No book contracts, no shiny new cars. No lottery wins or hunky dates. Mostly what I got this year was a little peace, a return of joy, and a lot of love. (Remember when I wrote about my words for the year, way back in January?)

Peace. Joy. Love.  That’s what I thought about, praying this morning. And now that I think about it again, I feel like I may have been wrong. Everything on that list was pretty darn stupendous after all.

 

(Happy New Year’s, y’all, and may your 2020–and mine!–be filled with peace, joy, and love! Oh! And for my writer friends, may your writing be filled with sheep! But not the kind you count to sleep. You’ll have to read “Think Sheep! Taking Your Writing Beyond the Expected” over at The Muffin to make sense of that New Year’s tip!)

All I Really Want For Christmas

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The Christmas Bookcase in my office, 2019

 

You know you’re getting old when you say, “No, no, don’t get me anything for Christmas! Just come over to the house. That’s enough for me.”

First, you’ve pulled out the Mom Guilt Card. The “I don’t want your money, I just want you to spend a little time with your poor, sainted mother.”

But it’s true, isn’t it? Because secondly, you really don’t want anything; you’re at that point in your life that when you want something, you get it yourself. That’s one of the perks of being old and having all your kids making their own livelihoods. I don’t have to give up those expensive boots I really want because Junior needs braces. (He may still need braces but that’s on him now.)

And I don’t have to wait for Christmas, either. When I want something, I just go and shake the money tree. If cash tumbles down, wheeee! If a few pennies knock me on the head, then I wait for the Money Tree Elf to come and do its magic. Either way, I’m happy.

So that’s what I was thinking about in “‘Tis the Season! Gifts for Writers” over at The Muffin today, that perk of being older (and maybe a teeny bit wiser) and the benefits that come along with age.

Mostly, that we don’t need a lot of things to make us happy, but that it’s a good idea to figure out what we do need, whether it’s a physical, mental, or emotional want, and to stop waiting for jolly old Santa to give it to us, or any loved one, for that matter.

Because love starts with yourself and then spreads to others. So go love yourself and have a joyful Christmas!

(P.S. This doesn’t mean Youngest Junior Hall is off the hook for getting that 20 lb bag of bird seed for me. You know your mother can’t lift that big bag but that’s all I want. Also, there’s still spider webs in the windows and they need to find another home for the holidays, so if Oldest Junior Hall could remove ’em, that’d be swell. But that’s it. Really. Until after Christmas when the lights need to be taken down. Juniorette Hall is good at that sort of thing. Maybe get the Hubs to take the tree back down to the basement? But seriously, that’s all.

For now.)