Of Birthdays and Colds By Konnie Enos

Yesterday I called Bonnie and she could easily tell I am rather sick. She was concerned about me being able to write my post today, but I told her I should still be able to write it. Then I promptly forgot about writing my post in favor of taking care of myself, including taking some naps.

I, in fact, so completely forgot about that I did not remember until one of my several middle of the night trips to the bathroom. And I only remembered it then because my son apparently forgot that today is garbage day.

How did going to the bathroom remind me of that fact?

Because he had not emptied the garbage can in our bathroom, or in fact, any cans in our room. Though the only one stuffed full at the moment is the one in our bathroom. (It’s stuffed because it hasn’t been emptied in a couple of weeks simply because it wasn’t full enough to bother until now.)

Now normally my son comes in our room sometime in the evening on Tuesday to make sure all the garbage is gathered but yesterday the only time he came into my room was to get some pain medicine because, surprise, surprise, he’s sick too. (Sore throat and achy.)

Don’t worry, our bins got to the curb this morning. One, because I had to be up early to deal with my post. And two, because my son realized it needed done and got up early to do so.

And as my brain is more focused on bundling up for some warmth and getting any sleep I can, I cannot think of much to say. Though I am currently remembering something that happened Sunday.

We were at church and I overheard someone asking if that day was the fifth or the sixth. Clearly it was not. I told them it was most definitely the fourth since the next day, Monday, was the fifth. I indicated I knew that for a fact because Monday was a certain gentleman’s birthday, while clearly pointing at my husband.

One of the gentlemen there then decided to guess hubby’s age. Now before he did state his guess, he said he wasn’t good at guessing and wanted to guess low. I’m assuming to not offend us. Now this man does know some of our kids and is aware we have grandchildren. He as at least one himself. He also is well on his way to full head of gray hair and otherwise looks the part of a grandfather.

It should also be noted that our kids are all in their early 30s to mid-20s. It would be safe to assume someone with kids near the same age as yours was themselves about the same age as you were.

Not only did he guess low, but he guessed fifteen years too low. I can assure you that we were not in our teens when we married and started a family. We were almost no longer in our 20s. (Our oldest was born less than three months before hubby turned 30.)

Yes, my husband, with his completely gray and receding hair, apparently does not look as old as he is. Then again, our friend was guessing slightly below his own age which happens to be ten years younger than hubby and I are.

Since I’m coughing, sneezing, and attempting to sleep, which is what my body needs right now, I’m going to end here so I do those things.

Take care.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

The Year's End by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Today is the last day of 2025, and what do I have to show for it?

Not much.

I really haven’t been very productive this past year. Thanks to wrenching my back and being on a muscle relaxant, I didn’t even finish NaNo this year. And about all I’ve accomplished the last couple of weeks is watching a ton of online content.

Though I have come across a few interesting videos and ads.

One I saw just cracked me up. I mean, I literally laughed long and hard!

It turned out to be an online ad for a Harry Potter wand, but it started with a quote showing across the screen, which said, “Babe, stop buying toys, you’re 30!”

Okay, that still makes me laugh. Here’s this poor guy complaining about his woman buying Harry Potter merchandise at 30 years old, and here I am at 63, and I can see both Harry Potter merchandise and Barbie merchandise within my current line of sight, and I purchased the Barbie merchandise last month!

I kind of wonder what those ad executives would think about someone my age still buying toys for myself.

Then, again, let’s face it, despite a person’s age, there is always going to be something on which they will splurge.

When my husband was alive, he saved his spending money to buy muzzleloaders, buckskin, and all the various historically accurate accoutrements of his hobby. I’m still alive, and I spend my discretionary funds on books, Barbies, craft supplies, Nativities, owls, Eagles, and occasionally Harry Potter merc.

I’m sure other adults have other things they like to splurge on. Everyone should have at least one hobby, no matter what their age.

And, yes, I know, I have several. But it still boils down to the guy in that ad complaining about his lady love buying toys for herself at the ripe old age of 30, and I’m over here at 63 still buying myself toys. I might also point out that I purchased my first toy with my own money when I was around 12 years old. I still have the toy, too. He’s my oldest Ken doll, part of the original Malibu Barbie series, which came out around that time.

Which sort of brings up another thing I saw online this past week. Someone asked their audience what the oldest thing in their house was. I sort of wish that it were Ken, but alas, the oldest thing in my house is the desk I have in the corner, which was my grandfather’s many eons ago. It is, in fact, older than I am.

Unless one of my various Nativities, which were mostly gifts or acquired from thrift stores, is an antique (and I sincerely doubt that), that old desk is the oldest thing I own, because I am fairly sure it’s the only thing here that predates my birth.

I do have books which were originally published before I was born, but I do not have any first editions of said books; none of my vast collection of books would qualify as the oldest.

Though speaking of books, I also recently saw a post stating something about if the one book physically closest to you was the only book you could read for the rest of your life, what would it be?

I laughed at that one, too, because immediately to my left was volume 1 of a four-book series of which I now have all four books, and the same distance away on my right was my Kindle Fire.

My reader not only has a vast library of books on it, but it also has a separate app produced by my church, which is our entire Gospel Library. My Kindle Fire alone could keep me occupied for quite a while.

The final interesting post I saw this last week was one where a guy asked, “What is one thing no one can understand, unless they’ve lived it?”

My response was, “Being identical twins.”

I can certainly provide examples of how it is different because I have lived it, but telling you everything different still wouldn’t make you understand.

Actually, I’m talking about mirror twins more than identical because we’ve known twins who looked fairly identical to me, but well, they had never said the exact same thing at the exact time with the exact same tonal inflection, just one at a different octave than the other.

We’ve known lots of twins throughout our lives, and I’ve never known another set who could simply glance at each other and know what the other was thinking.

I could keep going, but I’ve mentioned all these odd things we can do in earlier posts.

Happy writing, everyone, and have a happy and productive new year!

Of Family, Traditions, and Christmas by Konnie Enos

My oldest son (next to youngest child) drove home from where he is living and working to celebrate Christmas with us. Yeah, for me. Three of my five kids are here, at least for a few days.

Today, being Christmas Eve, is packed with our traditional activities.

My oldest son, I believe mostly because of his ADHD, cannot even start Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve, so he’ll be spending several hours in search of gifts for the rest of us. A sharp contrast to me having all my shopping and wrapping done before Thanksgiving. It even contrasts with my other two kids, who were done with even the wrapping by last week. But there is only four other family members here, so it isn’t as if he has to get a lot of gifts.

While he is doing that, my daughter will be directing the rest of us in the kitchen. My daughter and I cooking while my husband and son fetch and carry for us, and maybe even wash a few dishes. We are not only making Christmas dinner but preparing Christmas morning breakfast so it’ll be something quick and easy for people to get as they want in the morning.

After our dinner is ready, we’ll set the table. Hopefully, by the time we are ready to dish up my older son will have returned from his shopping expedition so that we can have a family dinner.

After dinner we’ll probably get my husband and one or more sons to do the dishes (relax, most of them will fit in the dishwasher), while my daughter and I make sure all the leftovers get properly stored.

Once the house is back in order I’ll make every effort to gather my family around the Christmas tree and read Luke 2, and also “Twas the Night Before Christmas”. Both are tradition in our family.

After that my husband will probably retire for the night, while my oldest son secrets himself into a bedroom (whichever one he can get us to vacate for him) to wrap his gifts.

While he is doing that, my son, daughter and I will gather our stockings and work on filling each one with treats and surprises. Then, of course, we have to clean up any mess we made and make sure the stockings are all nice and ready for morning. By then my oldest son should be able to add what he got to the stack of presents already waiting under the tree and we can all retire for the evening.

Though, traditionally, my oldest son does not sleep Christmas Eve. I have my doubts that my oldest daughter sleeps Christmas Eve.

When they were all much younger we had to tell our oldest we were not getting up before six. As in, I point blank refused to get out of bed before 6 a.m. no matter how much she begged. She started making sure she woke us up promptly at six because she wasn’t waiting any longer. Since she’s the mother now, I’m fairly certain she has to work with the desires of her own children.

Once she was out of the house, and all my kids were adults anyway, we moved our gift unwrapping time to a much more reasonable time. While middle daughter was still in the house, it was 8 a.m. Now, since at least half of us have to get up at 7 a.m. to feed fur family members, we open presents after that. So, by 7:30.

And since breakfast just needs reheated, we can do that as we feel we need to eat. Though I sincerely doubt it’ll take us more than an hour to unwrap what’s bound to be less than 40 gifts divided between 5 people.

Plans are already in place to call my oldest sometime that morning. Plus, I’ll call Bonnie at some point. Probably even the oldest of my remaining brothers. My husband might call at least one of his sisters, if not both. Maybe even his baby brother. (The man will be 50 next year so he isn’t little anymore.)

The rest of the day is a bit less structured. Though I’m sure my son (youngest) and daughter will try to get as many of us as possible to play a game or two. Plus, my daughter has already prepared things for a massive cookie baking session with all hands-on-deck. Though I’m not exactly sure what the guys will be doing beyond possibly washing dishes as needed.

Hopefully, all that will go smoothly so that we can have a pleasant couple of days. I’m assuming my son will have to leave sometime Friday, so he doesn’t miss any work.

How is your holiday shaping up?

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Merry Christmas! by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Christmas Eve is a week away, and I could go into a long-winded reason why Christmas is important, but this isn’t a forum for preaching, and I’m not a preacher. And I could go into all my Nativities, but I’ve mentioned them before.

None of that really matters; what does matter is that it is Christmas!

So:

          We wish you a Merry Christmas!

          We wish you a Merry Christmas!

          And a Happy New Year!

I’m going to end my post here, because I don’t know about you, but I still have presents to wrap!

Happy writing, everyone, and Merry Christmas!

Of Hearing and Comprehension by Konnie Enos

Recently my husband has been annoying me with a habit of his.

As a rule, the man cannot hear me when I try to talk to him. Even when we are in the same room I often have to yell to get his attention. Either that or go right up to him and tap him on the shoulder. We already know he’s deaf.

No. His annoying habit is repeatedly asking me what I said.

Repeating myself is one thing. Being asked to repeat myself when I hadn’t said anything is another altogether.

I’ll be sitting here quietly minding my own business. Then out of nowhere he’ll get up from his desk and ask me what I needed, or why I called to him, or just what I said.

I seriously hadn’t uttered a peep.

I suppose I find this so annoying simply because he generally can’t hear me the rest of the time. Either he doesn’t answer or his response makes it obvious he didn’t actually hear what I said.

His favorite stunt is I’ll call the name of one of our children and he’ll respond claiming I called his name. Which actually irritates me because when I do call his name I have to yell it at the top of my lungs at least three times for him to hear me, yet I can call my kids in a normal voice, and he not only hears me but hears his name.

Then there is situations like at the dinner table last night. The kids and I were talking, and he commented that he was completely lost. He couldn’t follow the conversation going on around him at the dinner table.

Of course, we weren’t yelling.

My daughter especially is very sensitive to noise and gets headaches if we raise our voices.

Seriously.

I can be in my room at the back of the house and talk in a perfectly normal voice, no yelling, and she’ll hear every word from the front of the house. Then she has to either yell her answer or come to my room because I can’t pick out what she is saying otherwise.

Sometimes I don’t hear her when we were in the same room but only when there is background noise, like a fan going nearby.

I know my hearing is perfectly normal. It’s been tested.

So, the volume we use in this house to communicate is always fluctuating between yelling and whispering. But it also means it’s extra irritating when my husband hears me talking when I absolutely wasn’t talking.

Though actually talking to him can be just as frustrating because his not comprehending what is being said is far more common then him not hear us in the first place.

A recent example is a couple of weeks ago we were at church, and they announced a Christmas party for last Saturday night. Now, two Saturdays a month we go serve in the temple.

At the time he said something about us not being able to go because it was on Saturday. I pointed out to him that we had nothing scheduled.

He did not hear me. Not then or when I repeated it apparently.

I learned he hadn’t heard me last Saturday.

He’d ask me earlier in the day if I was going that day and I told him no because I had a cold. I thought he was talking about the party. He was assuming we were going to the temple.

I found this out when our son asked him when he was leaving.

It was too early in the day to go to the party, so I asked where he was going.

Apparently he was completely prepared to go to the temple. Even the kids thought he was going so I had to explain our schedule yet again.

We go the second and fourth Saturday of the month. So basically, every other week. However, sometimes there is a fifth Saturday. Rather than go every other week all the time and throw people off that way, we go the second and fourth Saturday of every month, and every other fifth Saturday. The other group does first and third, plus the fifth Saturdays we don’t. It evens out to we’re going about the same number of times each year.

Because the last Saturday of November was the fifth Saturday that we didn’t cover he was thinking we did cover last Saturday even though it was the first Saturday.

As for our kids, they just never paid attention to our schedule. They saw his stuff hanging by the door ready for him to go to the temple and thought it was perfectly normal.

So, I’ve been irritated.

On another tack. Happy birthday to my older son, just a bit early. It’s on Sunday.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.