From the Tuesday morning writers:
November 4, 2018
Could you take the Wi-Fi out of Dunkins so Mom will talk with me? She says I can use my tablet and watch a video but I want to talk to Mom. She buys me a strawberry donut with pink frosting and I even get hot chocolate like she promised but then she doesn’t talk to me. I miss Grammy taking me there. She and I played hangman and talked.
Santa, would you move my Grammy near me? You remember, Mom and I moved a long way from her. Mom said it was a good business opportunity for Mom. I don’t know what that means and when I tried to ask Mom, she was too busy on her laptop doing business, she said. You remember, Santa, Grammy took care of me when I lived near her. I could wear my jammies to her house and make pancakes and read stories before we got dressed. We made cookies a lot and visited her friends in the nursing home. They read me stories. Now I have a nanny who takes care of me cuz Mom is away for the business opportunity. Mom says we can skype Grammy but it just isn’t the same. I miss her kisses on my face when I get flour on it. We were silly a lot.
Santa, could you make Mom take me to the mall to get my picture taken with you? Then I can ask you if you got my letter ok. I want to put our picture on a card to send to my friends. Mom says we could take a selfie but it just isn’t the same thing Santa. You get it, right? And I could bring Elf. You remember him Santa, you brought him to me last Christmas. He chewed a home in Mom’s cashmere sweater.
One more thing, Santa. My friend Emma has a mommy who is sick. She lost her hair and wears a funny hat. Do you think I could go there to live because they eat dinner together and Emma’s mommy doesn’t like Facebook? They watch videos together and talk. Emma’s mommy reads to her before bed and they eat raisins and yogurt for a snack. Emma said they were making gingerbread cookies tomorrow. When I asked Mom if I could invite them over, she said she wouldn’t know what to say. I said; “How about Hi?” She didn’t look up from her tablet.
Could you bring me another doll house? Mom gave mine away when we moved cuz she said I was five and too big for it, but I’m not. But don’t worry Santa, I play with the one at the gym while my nanny goes to yoga. So I’ll be okay til you can bring me another one. Could you bring me books too cuz Mom didn’t move those either? She said I could use my Kindle but it’s not the same. I like to turn the pages. I really like the pop-up ones and the ones that have the doors to open. Grammy and I used to pretend we didn’t know what was behind the doors, but we did Santa. We were just being silly.
Malik in my kindergarten class says there is no Santa but I don’t believe him cuz my teacher says Santa lives in our hearts forever. I wasn’t sure for a while though, Santa, cuz Mom sure has forgotten, I think. She got us a plastic pink tree with a thing that spins and the tree changes color. I miss the smell of the tree we had. Grammy and I went to a big parking lot and bought it. We laughed at the man who tried to tie it on top of our car. Mom says decorations are tacky. I miss the ones I made in child care and painted with Grammy. Mom says we have pictures of them. She says I will get used to the new way of Christmas. I don’t think so, Santa, but I will try.
When I sit on your lap, remember to say “Ho Ho Ho” and give me a candy cane cuz I am going to give it to Malik and tell him there is a Santa. Elf and I will see you soon.
Ages ago, when I was younger, I succumbed to pangs of hunger;
Although I’d run and walk about, a diet wasn’t talked about.
I wasn’t wise, I didn’t think, as down my throat flowed food and drink;,
Did I see my good health retreating? Nah, I just kept overeating.
After years of careless gobbling, no longer running, mostly hobbling,
I’ve now the wisdom of a sage, and lucky to have reached old age.
Delectables I used to eat resulted in two aching feet;
Delicious bacon, biscuits, cheese have settled in my hips and knees.
I confess to being a chocoholic, but now I eat it, then get colic.
My lower back pain doesn’t let up – I sit down, but I then can’t get up.
Every morning, it’s hard to dress; I eat more food from all the stress.
In my spine, I have a crick, so now I use a walking stick.
Against these things, a war I’m waging, to counteract this thing called aging.
The pool, the weights, the exercise bikes – I’ve tried them all with no luck – yikes!
I’ve swallowed everything that’s edible, so now my plight is inevitable.
One day I'll. . . .
by Trudy Cohen
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. OK, I am a procrastinator, I'm lazy, and I have no self discipline. I admire people who are ambitious, take on difficult challenges, and are courageous. That's not me. I look for the easy way out, short cuts, and the simplest way to get the job done. I've known people who have set very high standards for themselves, and met their goals. I applaud them.
I often say to myself, one day I'll take a cruise to Iceland and Greenland. I'll get motivated, and lose 20 lbs. I'll read “A Tale of Two Cities”, I'll wash the windows. Hummm. I argue with myself for 15 minutes before I finally get in the car and drive to Claremont to the supermarket. I can't get to church on Sunday morning any more. Once upon a time, I wouldn't miss going to church or helping with coffee hour and pot luck dinners.
So, what is my problem? I don't have one. I'm actually content, and exceedingly happy doing what I want, when I want, and if I want. No responsibilities, except to my pets: Pierre, Serena and Taffy. One day I'll get my novel finished, however. Yup, and I'll start going to church again, too. Yeah, sounds good. Let me think it over some more.