It’s New Year’s Eve and this is my last blog post for 2009.  What a year it has been and what fun I’ve had sharing my goings-on with you.

This last week of the year was quiet at work – thankfully so.  I find that the days leading up to, and the celebrations surrounding Christmas Day always seem to leave me depleted.   Having a few low profile days at work to restore my spirit are always a welcome gift.   With Albany a virtual ghost town and I the “lone worker” in an empty office there was plenty of time for restoration.

So yesterday afternoon when I scooted out to the post office - needing to mail some tardy packages - I was in a bit of a hurry to get back to my post.  As I quickly exited the main entrance of the Hudson Street Post Office, I was approached  by a well-dressed, panhandler.  He was tall, clean, dressed in plaid and brown and I knew I was in trouble the moment we made eye contact.

“Excuse me…,” he said.

“Oh no,” I thought, “Here it comes.”

“Could you spare some change for a . . . stamp?” he asked.

That’s an excuse I haven’t heard before, but then we were standing just outside the post office.

Now as you may recall, I get asked for cash quite a bit when I’m on the streets of Downtown Albany. The only thing I can figure is I must look like a nice, generous person or a chump.  Either way I’m always handing out a few dollars to some stranger.  So given my historic generosity I quickly gave my apologies and said, “No.”

Shocking!  Yes, shocking!  I said, “No.”  Immediately though, the feelings of deep regret, remorse and guilt over being such a tightwad began to emerge.  Am I that stingy?  I’m typically so giving, but here I was saying no to 44 cents.

This is a first for me and that’s when I begin thinking, “What if he needed that stamp to send money to his sick grandmother so she could buy groceries or pay for her much need medication?”  I know, you’re right.  If he was sending money to his grandmother he could use 44 cents of it for a stamp.  But what if he needed that stamp to send out his resume to prospective employer – his last hope?  I know, you’re right.  If it’s his last hope, he should walk or drive it over.

Ya know I don’t think he needed a stamp at all.  I think he just wanted me to take out my change purse and then he would have asked me for 88 cents for two stamps or $1.32 for three stamps or $1.76 for four stamps.  The next thing ya know I’d be giving him all the cash in my change purse and writing him a check.

Instead, I just said, “No,” with profuse apologies, of course, because I am nice.

So as 2009 is coming to an end I realize that I learned a great many lessons this year, the last of which is - sometimes you just have to say no and while it might be difficult there are times when  it’s necessary.

I would guess that in 2010 I may have to say no again when things aren’t working for me, but one important thing I will remember is to say “yes” to new opportunities and new adventures while never giving up hope.  A joy-filled, fulfilling life can be ours, but only if we say “yes” and “no” and “maybe” at just the right time.

So as we plunge head first into 2010 I’m taking my blank canvas and beginning to render my life’s masterpiece.  Yes!  No maybe about it!

December 26th - The trees were covered in hoar frost creating a winter wonderland while leaving the roads clear. Beautiful.

Another Christmas celebration has left my belt tighter than before.  Torn gift wrap has been gathered into a bag and readied for the trash.   The last of the holiday treats will be gone soon and 2009 is nearing its end.

This Christmas season was filled with changes.   While there were the traditional festivities on Christmas Eve and the Dewey Grab Bag (our unruly gift exchange) the day after Christmas, Ma and Pa stayed in Arizona and my sons spent Christmas Day with their “new” families in Vermont and Long Island.

The Dewey Grab Bag Crew!

As I’ve gotten older I’ve begun to witness more and more changes in my life and these differences become particularly noticeable during the holiday season.  I’ve no doubt this cycle of change is nothing new and think of past generations knowing they knew and that they too weren’t the first to experience this reordering of things.

It seems that each year our role becomes different from the year before - bit-by-bit starting when we’re youngsters.  Those early Christmases we were recipients who waited with excitement and anticipation while blissfully unaware that the “magic makers” were at work creating those perfect Christmas memories we carry to this day.

Then we grow older and become magic makers ourselves and with that new role comes the realization that there is more joy and satisfaction in the giving.  We wear our new designation as “magic maker” with pride and take on that new responsibility without complaint.   After all, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Were you the magic maker this season, a blissfully unaware recipient or both?  Now that I’m in tune with these changes and have become more flexible and accepting I realize change is what makes life interesting.

Michael, Me and Jonathan - What a treat!

First daughter, then wife, then mother, then grandmother all while trying to be the best me I can be and in between I’m proud to wear the badge of “magic maker” from time-to-time.

Let’s face it, resisting change would be just plain foolhardy.  So embrace the change whatever it might be and perhaps you’ll find a little magic along the way.

It’s Christmas morning and as I listen to Elvis singing…”if every day could be just like Christmas what a wonderful world it could be….”  I’m thinking it can be in many ways if we make a conscious effort to make it so.  Not exactly like Christmas, but that charitable, loving feeling that is what this season is all about.  Enjoy your day in celebration, peace and love.  From me to you.

Christmas, a time for sentimental reflection and acknowledgment.  Along with all that comes this gift giving thing.  I don’t mean to imply that there is anything wrong with giving presents.  I love having found just the right thing for someone you care about.  That kind of giving is the best feeling.

But there are times when that doesn’t happen.  The gift you’ve given just doesn’t seem like enough, not thoughtful enough, not that perfect, “WOW, where did you find this,” present.  Then compounding the anxiety is receiving that perfect “WOW, where did you find this?” gift making your offering feel so much more inadequate.

I need to remind myself that what we offer during the rest of the year is more important than one gift given on one day of the year.  Not to diminish those generous and thoughtful presents we will receive this Christmas, but to put things in perspective.

Giving the best you have to offer on this day, whether tangible or intangible, is all that can be expected.   What I’m saying is give your love freely this Christmas and resolve to sprinkle that Christmas magic into the rest of the year.

I’m sending my Christmas wish to you; have a wonderful holiday and savour every moment spent with family, friends or in peaceful solitude with God watching over every celebration.

Saying Goodbye to Old Red was somehow emotional. But why?

I said goodbye to a couple of old “friends” this week.  Goodbyes are hard and I’ve never been good at it.  Those quick conversational exchanges before leaving can be so awkward.   “It’s been good seeing you” (no hug).  “We’re so glad you came” (hugs).  “We really need to get together more often,” (hug and a kiss).  I much prefer scooting out the back just to avoid those final farewells.

On Monday when I bid farewell to my car, Old Red, I realized that she’s been a friend of sorts.  We’ve traveled many miles together, over 146,000 in all.   She was there when I laughed, cried and raged at some injustice.   In her silence there was no judgment, but then things started to breakdown and the cost of keeping this old “friend” any longer was just plain foolish.    So on Monday night I turned her over to an unknown fate and though she is just a collection of metal, plastic, rubber and such I felt sad for some reason.

Here's Kathleen, Up and Coming Hair Stylist!

And then just yesterday I bade farewell to a part of me.   Not by surgery - minor or major - but at the skilled hands of my niece, Kathleen.   Kat started her cosmetology training last fall and as soon as I heard of her pursuit an idea was hatched (in my mind) and Kathleen graciously agreed.

Going...

It was decided that as soon as she felt comfortable, my long mane of unruly hair would be hers to cut.    Since I’ve been “self-styling” for more than ten years now, a professional touch was long overdue and I knew it.   Last night was the night.   I was surprised to find, as she began to cut, that I felt no sadness at this farewell in spite of the years it took to grow the 12+ inches Kathleen shorn from my head.   Quite the opposite, I knew it was time for a change, a new beginning, a new me and I thank Kathleen for such a great job.

Going...

Over the years I’ve come to accept that goodbyes are a part of life and cannot be avoided.   Things come into and out our lives to enhance and teach us.   People come into our lives for a reason, a season or lifetime and we know not for how long these connections will last.

Gone!

I now know that it’s best not to scoot out the back, but to bid farewell when the time comes with the promise that whatever change is at hand will be what we need whether we realize it at the time or not.

[Side Note: I plan to send the 12-14 inches Kathleen shorn from my head to Locks of Love to use as they see fit in honor of my sister - Bet - our breast cancer survivor!]

These treats are calorie free provided you don't eat any!

Life is a bitch sometimes.  I believe that might be what the Buddha really meant when - in the first of the Four Noble Truths - the Buddha said, “life is dukkha.” Some translate “dukkha” to mean “suffering,” others say “dissatisfaction” or “stress.”  Anyway you cut it - life is a bitch sometimes.

And then there are times when life is good; moments that you can file in your memory bank to retrieve later when things go sour.  This past Sunday was just one of those days; one of those “life is good” days.

On Sunday my sister Bethy (the party girl) and I co-hosted the Second Annual Christmas Cookie Exchange.  Our Cookie Exchange is a relatively new holiday tradition having been started a few years ago at Bethy the Party Girl’s initiation.  This year’s event was most important, a real milestone, as last year the baking sheets lay dormant with Bethy right in the thick of her chemotherapy treatments.

All the more reason to celebrate this year because the “dukkha” has been abated and healing is underway.  Thank God.  What better way to rejoice than bake cookies to share with friends and family?

It all got started a few weeks ago when invitations were sent by email.  No pressure was exerted with the exception of  two requirements; bake five to six dozen cookies and show up at the appointed hour for brunch.  Our mid-morning feast would include Quiche, Breakfast Bake (egg casserole), Lazy Maple Coffee Cake, Champagne, Orange Juice and Coffee, of course.  A prize would be awarded to the person wearing the most festive outfit with a second prize going to the person who baked the most delicious confection.

Katie's Best Holiday Feet!

Bethy and I were ineligible for awards, but it’s always best to bring your specialty, your finest baking effort.  I decided to bake Mandelbrot (pictured in my December 12th Blog Post), a delicious treat with a hot cup of coffee.  Unfortunately, my Mandelbrot didn’t “show” as well as some of the other scrumptious chocolate, coconut, peanut butter laden treats.

At the end of the exchange, as everyone was packing to leave, I noticed that much of my Mandelbrot remained in my container, relatively untouched, seemingly shunned for not being attractive enough. I started having flashbacks to my high school days… being the last chosen in gym class, standing on the sidelines at a school dance without an invitation to swing and sway with the music. My poor undercooked Mandelbrot and me would go home to be baked another day.

Truth is I baked it for Bethy because she likes and she said it was delicious.  In spite of the public rejection my Mandelbrot and I experienced that day, I will deposit this day into my “fond memories bank,” and withdraw it from time-to-time with a smile.

[Side Note:  Once I took my Mandelbrot home and toasted it in a 350 degree oven for an additional 10-15 minutes it was delicious with a perfect crunchy texture.  Still not the most attractive cookie in town, but delicious.]