CHRISTMAS ON A SHOESTRING.

 

Steve and Alex with one of the Yorkies at our Stewart Ave. house

Here it is, that Jolly Old Season again and true to tradition my bank account is running on empty and I haven’t even started shopping yet. It’s just a fact of life that happens when one lives on an extremely low-income budget. Somehow, things always work out alright though. I’ve had lots of experience organizing gala Christmas celebrations on a shoestring.

I recall those “hard times” back in the ’70’s when I was a divorced single mom struggling to support two kids on a miniscule salary as a daycare teacher. My boyfriend and I decided to cut the costs by moving into a big house which we shared with a variety of other equally poor lodgers and assorted dogs and cats.

My boyfriend was on the lam from the American army as this was during the Viet Nam war so any work he had was under-the-table at a car wash. The other lodgers were young college students, and an occasional deserter or wayward hippie that took shelter with us. We never turned anyone away and each guest or tenant, no matter how impoverished, would participate by helping with cooking, sharing expenses and whatever. We all learned how to make do with very little and we were a happy, carefree gang.

The first year we moved in, with our very sparse budget, we were still determined to make the best of it for the Christmas season. After all, it isn’t Christmas without parties, decorations and presents. So all of us got together and cut out coloured tissue paper snowflakes to decorate the windows. We hung lights and somehow managed to get a Christmas tree which we decorated with traditional balls and tinsel as well as strings of popcorn. But what to do for presents?

It happened that I had a lot of material goods brought from my past life, so I sorted through the china tea-cups, jewelery and other items that I had stored away, carefully picking just the right gift for each of my friends. The girls in the house baked Christmas goodies and the old house was full of the delicious, familiar smells of the holidays. The whole motley crew enjoyed a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. It was a special Christmas because it wasn’t in the least bit ‘commercial’. Everything we had made or chosen from our own belongings to give away. It gave Christmas a new, special meaning.

There were a few other Christmases on a shoestring too, during those years. Once I remember us having a box of odds and ends: ribbons, tinsel, shiny paper, glue, sparkles and various artsy craftsy thing and each guest who came visiting had to make a decoration for the Christmas tree. One year my daughter and I made gingerbread houses for all our friends. Another time we had a Christmas cookie contest and decorated sugar cookies cut in various festive shapes which we hung on the Christmas tree. The ornamental cookies were so pretty we decided to keep them for the next year. But alas! The following Christmas when I opened the box up, the mice had eaten all the cookie ornaments!

I recall as a kid, my Mom used to make whole wardrobes for our Christmas dolls, and sew all our holiday clothes too. My parents didn’t have a lot of money but there were always plenty of gifts under the tree, and lots of goodies to eat. Christmas was a jolly time spent with family and friends. I guess those early days taught me how to have Christmas on a shoestring and in a way, those Christmases are the most memorable

 

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CHRISTMAS AT GRANDPA’S

Grandpa's house, Cobourg Street, Stratford Ontario

(That's our dog, Dutchess in the front)

 

          Christmas in the ‘40’s was a time when all the relatives came to celebrate at Grandpa’s house.  We would troop down to the train station and stand waiting on the wooden platform, our breaths puffing like the steam from the locomotive engine, the frosty winter air nipping our cheeks into roses.  The train chugged into the station, the coach doors opened and travelers spilled out onto the platform.  Happy greetings filled the air as merry as caroler’s songs, families embraced and made their way down the snowy streets.

          When my uncle, aunt and cousins arrived, we all went back to Grandpa’s house. How my grandparents found room for everyone, I can’t imagine. All the Aunts, Uncles and Cousins crowded into the small living room around the Christmas tree to chat, the crackling of the flames in the hearth sounding like pop-corn. After a few games of monopoly and Chinese checkers, my Uncle Frank would performed a comical rendition of “Herbert Burped”, tongue-in-cheek, about a little boy who gets swallowed by  a lion. Then all of us children were tucked snugly into beds, often three in a bed, the middle one squished between the other two, warm in our flannel pajamas, while the grownups sat up late eating Christmas cake and drinking ginger ale.

My little sister Jeanie and me, wearing dresses Mom made for us.

(probably taken at Easter in front of Grandpa's house)

 

           One particular Christmas stands out in my memory.  That was the year I bought the best Christmas presents I’d ever bought before.  Certainly, the most memorable!

          I was nine years old, and I felt very grown up as I went off to town to do my own Christmas shopping. I headed straight for the Woolworths Five and Dime store where you could always get the best bargains.  I looked over all the trinkets, trying to decide what would be the finest gifts.  It was difficult to decide. I wanted something unforgettable. Something everyone would love.

          Then I saw it: a little clay Chinese dragon on a bamboo stick. The head of the dragon was made of painted clay, and it had a red felt tongue that looked like fire shooting from its gaping mouth. The body was accordion-pleated tissue paper.  When you waved the stick, the body expanded and the head shot out, tongue flickering, like a real fire-breathing dragon.  The Chinese dragons would make the perfect Christmas gifts!

          I bought one for each of my relatives and excitedly headed for home, proud of myself for making such an extraordinary purchase. But when I showed them to my Mom, she was not impressed.  In fact, she  was upset with me for ‘wasting’ my money on such foolish toys as these instead of buying something more ‘practical’.  I felt embarrassed and disappointed.  However, it was too late to return the dragons to the store, so I wrapped them up and put them under the Christmas tree with the other gifts.

          On Christmas morning I waited nervously for everyone to open their presents.  I felt embarrassed thinking that my relatives would think the present’s I’d bought were foolish and useless.

          Instead, when the gifts were unwrapped, everyone was amused and delighted. especially my Uncle Frank.  He played with his dragon all day.  Of course, Uncle Frank always was the life of the party!

HOW I CELEBRATED MY BIRTHDAY

Ever since I was a small child, birthdays have been special for me.  My mother always prepared special surprised and held parties for me when I was a kid and later, as a teen, she'd ask what special meal I'd liked her to cook.  I'd invite my class-mates over to do fun things like pull taffy and play games like 'spin the bottle'.  Even as an adult I've loved special birthday parties.  For some years I used to hold "Gemini Parties" and invite all the Geminis I knew (as well as other friends). One year the Geminis were told to bring their favorites cakes. There were a lot of strawberry shortcakes (my favorite), peach upside down cakes and other similar goodies.  The first year I went to live in Greece I wanted a special "Canadian" birthday.  I invited friends to meet up on Filopappou Hill.  My Gemini soul-brother Robbie (an artist from Argentina) drew maps for the invitees.  I got some wieners, buns, marshmallows and of course the bottles of wine and beer.  We couldn't light a bonfire so we cooked the wieners in a little gas cooker for our 'weiner roast'.  It was a merry crowd. Some people got lost on the way up and took time out to drink their wine. So by the time the group gathered they were really into party mode.  For a couple of years here in Vancouver I celebrated together with my friend Susan who is also a Gemini.  We often went to the Latin Quarter (now closed) for our parties.  But this year I wanted something different.  It happened to be the Powell River Blues Festival weekend so my friend Cheryl and I decided that we'd go up to celebrate.  My son Steve was organizer and host of the Festival and I knew a lot of the musicians too.  So we made our reservations for the weekend at the lovely Beach Gardens Resort where they Festival was held.

We left home early Saturday morning and drove to Horseshoe Bay to get the Sunshine Coast ferry.  It's a lovely drive up the coast and although the weather was somewhat overcast, we were hopeful that it would clear.  And it did, by the time we had traveled the long winding road up to Earls Cove to wait for the second ferry that would take us to Saltry Bay.

It wasn't a long wait and we enjoyed the scenery.  The sky was beginning to clear too. And pretty soon we were aboard the ferry.

The coast of British Columbia is one of the most scenic places in the world, and even when it's overcast and a bit damp it's still an enjoyable trip.  The ferry from Earls Cove to Saltry Bay was fast, like the Horseshoe Bay ferry -- a bit less than an hour.

The drive up to Powell River is also windy but Cheryl is an excellent driver.  All along the roadside were banks of bright yellow gorse which made a pretty sight.  We finally arrived at the Beach Gardens around noon.  The receptionist had our room key ready and an envelope with our guest passes for the Festival.  And Steve and Sue were there to greet us too!  We were shown to our room (with a view of the beach). Ah! what a beautiful sight!

After a little rest and some lunch on the terrace, we went up to the Festival site to enjoy an afternoon for Blues and fun with friends.

The highlight of that afternoon was the incredible show performed by singer Robin Banks, backed by my son Steve and the West Coast Blues All Stars.

We also enjoy the other bands especially the afternoon closing act of the Strange Tones, a group from Portland Oregon that got the place rockin' with their upbeat music and go-go girl dancers.

We retired to our room for awhile (Cheryl loves watching the hockey games!) We were both pretty tired, especially Cheryl after that long drive, so she went to sleep and I went down to the dining room and had a bowl of the most delicious sea-food chowder I've ever tasted.  There was an evening jam happening, but unfortunately I felt too tired to take it in.  Needed to save myself for the next day which was my Birthday!

In the morning, we remembered it was the Queen's 60th Jubilee so we turned on the TV to watch and managed to see the flotilla up the Thames.  So there I was early on my birthday morning, sitting in bed sipping pink bubbly while watching the Queen!

Chilean pink bubbly was definitely the drink of the day! And that's how the birthday celebration began.

It was raining that morning so Cheryl and I decided to take a little tour of the old town of Powell River. (I'll post a special blog about that later).  We had a great morning exploring and had brunch in one of the towns oldest hotels, then set off to explore. Of course Cheryl wanted to visit the local brewery and we even got to do a wine tasting.  Then we did some photos of heritage buildings and set off to take a look at the old hulls anchored off shore where divers practice.  While we were down on the beach we spotted a bald eagle up on the cable wires and lots of interesting things on the beach such as a jelly fish and star fish. Then on the way back we saw a deer run across the road in front of the car.  We headed back to the Beach Gardens in time for the afternoon show. And the sun came out just in time too!

Steve and his group were backing up Mitch Wood (on keyboards) and his Rocket 88s.  A great band.  At one point Mitch made an announcement that there was a special guest celebrating her birthday. Me! And they sang happy birthday to me. That rounded off the program for the weekend and a very successful Festival and made it an extra special day for me.

Now it was time for the birthday dinner.  I ordered a cup of that delicious seafood chowder along with linguine with scallops and prawns. Yummy!

We also had Cajun oysters for appetizers.

The whole gang of musicians was there too so it was a nice party. It was a surprise when the waitress brought in a little chocolate birthday cake with a candle and sparkler. And again everyone sang Happy Birthday to me.

After dinner we went to the special party that was thrown for the volunteers and enjoyed an evening of more music at the jam in the PowWow Room.  That really rounded off the weekend of great music and fun. That night there was a spectacular full moon enveloped in clouds that gave it a dramatic effect.

The next day (Monday) we headed back home and for a treat stopped at Molly's Reach Cafe in Gibsons Landing which used to be part of the set of the old Beachcombers TV series. 

Right across from Gibsons I could see Keats Island where our family used to have a summer home.  That made for some nostalgic memories.  Then we headed on down the road to catch the Horseshoe Bay ferry back home.

It was definitely one of the special birthday parties I'll always remember! Thanks Cheryl, Steve, Sue and all the others who made it so memorable and fun for me!

IN MY OPINION...

There are some things going on in the media these days that made me think back to ancient times.  In Greece, one of the popular gods was Dionysos, god of wine, madness and vegetation.  He was also god of the theatre.  Dionysos has a dual nature: bright and joyous, but also dark, mysterious and deadly.  He is the god of wine and therefore should be pleasant and beneficial, but wine has its negative aspects too, making people drunk and behave in strange ways.  The Greeks were aware of the dual nature of wine mirrored by the dual natures of this god.

Dionysos is a male god, always surrounded by women, his chief worshippers.  His worship involved transvestism and blurring of sex roles.  Both men and women worshipped dressed in long robes covered by fawn skins.  The women, known as bacchants, left their homes and revelled on mountainsides.  Their name (in ancient Greek maenaeds) literally means "raving ones". Through dancing and drunken intoxication they went into a state of ecstatic frenzy, lost all self-control, began to shout excitedly, engaged in uncontrolled sexual behavior and ritualistically hunted down and tore into pieces animals (and in myth, sometimes men and children) devouring the raw flesh.

Death forms a major part in the worship Dionysos.  He revels in human sacrifice.  It was suggested that every tragic hero who suffers and dies on stage at the Dionysia, a great drama festival in Athens, is in fact Dionysos being killed.  It was said that the sacrifice plot was the original plot of the tragedy.

Sadly, we are seeing signs of this mad, erratic behavior relating to people in today's entertainment business.  In my opinion, the media has gone too far in their quest to sell news by dwelling too much on the antics of these out-of-control, misbehaving, addictive individuals.  These actors/entertainers who make public spectacles of themselves -- using all forms of media to flaunt their unacceptable and crazed behavior to the world -- do not deserve a minute of press time.  Anyone who has dealt with people with addictions knows there comes a time when tough love is the only solution. (Firing this actor from his TV show was a step in the right direction, so is laying charges of theft against one who 'borrows' an expensive piece of jewerly and refuses to return it and continually breaks their terms of probation.)  If the user (alcoholic or drug addict) continues on their path of self destruction, refuses rehab (or makes a joke of it by checking in and out like they're at a luxury resort), refuses to admit they have a problem, endangers themselves and loved ones (especially their children) by their out-of-control, crazed behavior and refusal to seek proper treatment, they do not deserve the publicity the press is giving them.  Yet we continue to condone this negative behavior by listening to their manic tirades, giving them a voice on radio, TV and Internet, and watch with fascinating as they self destruct.

It's time to quit giving all this attention to these sick individuals and focus more on people who are contributing their talents in a positive way.   Oh, I know, bad behavior sells newspapers.  But have we all resorted back to the days of the ancients, worshipping Dionysos and condoning this madness, following along like the raving maenaeds?

DON'T MESS WITH MY CHRISTMAS!

It's almost December and already the Christmas music is playing in stores and the decorations are decking the halls.  A lot of the usual commercial hype.  But aside from that, it is a time to be jolly and think of what we'll do for the holidays.  I haven't started Christmas shopping yet but I'm thinking about it. Probably this Christmas I'll do my traditional Christmas Eve Cornish hen dinner. Christmas has always been a special time for me and my family. It's  my most favorite times of year.  I love the Christmas traditions: the carols, the Christmas trees and decorations, the pagents and pantomimes, and I love Santa Claus too.  Today, when I visited the mall, I stopped to watch Santa for awhile.  There was a long line of children waiting to get their photos taken with him but at that moment he was sitting alone on his throne, a big jolly old elf just like Santa should be.  And he even waved at me!  (He must know I haven't been too naughty this year!)

Last week I saw on TV that one of our nearby towns has banned "Christmas holidays" from their school program. It now has to be called "Winter holidays".  This isn't the first time that Christmas has been hijacked and erased from the week we know as Christmas Holidays,  (from December 24 thru to New Years Day). In fact, in the last few years I've noticed more and more often the use of "Happy Holidays" replacing "Merry Christmas".  Why?  Because a certain group of our society feels that it is 'offensive' to other religious groups to refer to December 25 as "Christmas". 

This political correctness crap has gone way too far.  Sure, when 'political correctness' first came into being, it was meant to protect genders, cultures, religious rights, sexual preferences etc etc.  But this is going too far.  DON'T MESS WITH MY CHRISTMAS! 

What would happen if we told the Jewish community they were no longer allowed to call their special holiday "Hanukkah"? or if we said the Muslims couldn't refer to "Ramadan" or the Hindus  were not allowed to  celebrate  Diwali? Even the Wikken people celebrate Winter Solstice.  Is it right then, that the Christian community (Protestants and Catholics among others) should have to drop "Christmas" from our holiday?  I don't think so.

December 25 is Christmas. It's been called that for centuries.  Should we obliterate it all and go back to the pagan Saturnalia of the Romans? Would that make all these 'politically correct' people happy?
In that case though, I suppose we'd have to abolish Santa Claus too.  And I, for one, would be very unhappy about that!