war on Christmas?

If you listen to the media, there is a war going on. A war on Christmas.

The Fundies are on one side, rocking bumper stickers telling us "Keep Christ in Christmas" and "No Christ No Christmas", making a big point of saying "Merry CHRISTmas" instead of "Happy Holidays", and reinforcing that Santa is white like Jesus so just deal with it.

merry kiss-mas, baby

I love Friday the 13th. Especially when it's in December. Because that's the day my life changed forever.

In the summer of 1991, I was still very much single and very tired of dead-end relationships, of wondering what was wrong with me, of trying to find that one person I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

I had a good life all on my own. I had good friends, a good occupation, and a great family. I didn't need a man to make my life complete. It was time to stop looking and get moving. 

a new elf in town

When I was growing up, elves were benevolent creatures. They baked delicious cookies in a hollow tree. They made shoes for the shoemaker when he was asleep, and toys at the North Pole for good girls and boys. 

Sometimes if you were really good, they would even clean your house.  

thankfulness: heart....vision....perspective

It's that time of year, the time when our minds turn to Thanksgiving and - hopefully - to thankfulness.

My family has always operated in a culture of thankfulness. WN   always have each others' backs. And when life hangs low in front of us, we just jump on and ride it together.

When things are going well, we remind each other from whom our blessings flow, and give thanks. 

When things are going bad, when things seem dark and hopeless, we remind each other that this is not the end of the story. 

We recite words of our faith, promises from God, things like "all things work together for good" (Romans 8:28) and "I know the plans I have for you...plans to prosper you and not to harm you...plans to give you a hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11).

I am sad that our skirt! community is going away. When I shared in my blog and on my Facebook page that the skirt! community was closing up shop at the end of November, many people approached me in person and virtually to express they are sad, too. 

The funny thing is, until they told me they would miss my blog, I had no idea most of these people were even reading my articles. 

Which brings me to my thankfulness. 

I am thankful that I had the opportunity to participate in this community. 

I am thankful this community accepted me, gave me a forum, gave me an audience, gave me affirmation. 

I am thankful for the support and affirmation I received.

I am thankful for all my extended family members who read my articles regularly, "liked" them, and commented on them. Many times they were prompted to share their own memories with me, details about the history of my family I otherwise would not have known. 

I am thankful for all those articles I read by other skirt!setters who lifted me up, made me laugh, made me think, even the ones that made me a little mad.

I am thankful that I am a much better writer than I was when I started.

I am thankful that  I spent the last year being vulnerable and sharing my life and my writing with you.

I am even thankful that I am being kicked out of the nest. 

Because that's the thing about change. It forces your hand.

I've never liked change very much. It makes me nervous. Even good changes, like new cars or new family members or new opportunities, scare me and make my stomach churn with butterflies. Where I used to flow with the wind and make random decisions, I now avoid change whenever possible.

Which means sometimes I need change imposed on me.

Like now.

I have my own blog site up and running. It looks decent. I hope you will visit and sign up for the emails or RSS feed. 

I have my own Author page on Facebook. I hope you will visit and Like it. (But only if you really do like it. I don't need numbers to impress anyone.)

I have a few good mentors, people I look up to and respect.  I have an amazing husband who is my best critic and my best inspiration. I have four children, one daughter-in-law (and hopefully one to be), two grandsons, three foreign exchange daughters from Germany and Brasil, a passel of family near and extended, a huge church family, many amazing acquaintances, and a few really good friends. I have a rich community to draw from, a history to learn from, and a future to live for. 

I hope you will join me for the journey.

And have a HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

to great wearers of skirts

Skirts. I have a great affinity for them.

For various reasons, I grew up wearing skirts and dresses almost exclusively. At school I was the lone skirt in a sea of jeans. While everyone else wore Levis, Lees and an occasional Calvin Klein, I wore a variety of skirts. Short skirts, fitted skirts, gored skirts, skirts with shorts, kilts with gold clasps, full midi skirts made by my mother that would fly out dramatically when I twirled. Skirts made of wool, silk, cotton, Jersey, seersucker, denim, even velvet. 

(s)mashing pumpkins: why I am done with mammograms

"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." - Ben Franklin

I plan never to have another routine mammogram. Ever.

I'm not a big risk taker. I don't take drugs or wear fur to PETA meetings or talk about politics on Facebook. I don't jump out of planes or snowboard down mountains or swim with sharks. I don't even like to swim in water over my head.

So why would I ignore convention and refuse to have an annual mammogram to screen for breast cancer?

Artwork (ha!) property of Cindi Carver-Futch. Do not use without permission.