Post Holiday Stress Disorder

PHSD - it isn't something to take frivolously. It's a serious depression following seasonal highlights - family visitations, spoilings, children home from college. It's a time where everyone is fawning over each other and nothing gets done. However, the host family becomes sweetly exhausted.

These are times that will never be given up - I relish them and snap pictures at every moment, often duplicating the pics from others. But everything's OK. All is forgiven during the holidays.

Then everyone goes home. Decorations are put away. Left-over meals are either eaten or tossed into the trash. And all baked goods are given to children living outside the house. Eating conservation commences and days look bleek. Colored lights are gone. Crazy antics are gone. And it's just Ed and I. With the dogs and cats.

I miss my boys. I imagine it'll be a week or so until I'm "back to normal" and have grown accustom to them being gone again. Being a parent isn't always easy. There are lots of sad times, lonely times, and times when you realize how much you miss your own youth.

Then again, our youth helped us form wonderful children - like my boys. I am ever so proud of them and all they've done and will do with their lives.

PHSD - it makes you realize how much a person can affect another. How much we need each other. We are so fortunate to be able to share our fortunes with others. And I'm really glad for my family and friends.

Sorry to sound so soapy. sappy, whatever, but it's true.

Southern Haiku

Every morning, Alan, a writer friend of mine, creates a haiku then tweets it on twitter. I've been thinking a lot about his writing habit and am going to try and follow his example, at least a couple of days a week.

This morning I contemplated the New Year as I dozed in bed, refusing to arise. In my murky quasi-dreams, I created my first southern haiku. Actually, that was yesterday. Today's haiku was actually pretty OK - no southern in it at all.

Let's step back a minute. What is haiku? According to Wikpedia, Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 Japanese on (a phonetic unit identical to the mora), in three metrical phrases of 5, 7, and 5 on respectively[1], and typically containing a kigo, or seasonal reference. In Japanese, haiku are traditionally printed in a single vertical line, while haiku in English usually appear in three lines, to equate to the Japanese haiku's three metrical phrases[2]. Previously called hokku, it was given its current name by the Japanese writer Masaoka Shiki at the end of the 19th century.

OK, back to southern haiku. The difference between haiku and southern haiku is the pronunciation of several typically single syllable words spoken in a southern dialect. This is a typical southern haiku:

Cold wind bends the trees,

we cuddle inside our home,

fire blazing hot.

Notice the use of the word FIRE. In southernese, is pronounced FA-YER, or FAR. I've selected the former pronunciation to use in this haiku, thus transforming it into a two syllable word and maintaining the five syllable form.

I have to admit it affords me much greater flexibility in my creation.

HA HA HA. Happy New Year!!

Holiday Visits

Family bustles through the front door the day after Christmas, bursting bags cradled in their arms. It's dark outside and lights glisten in the damp air. No time to eat. Grab a quick drink then drop onto the sofa. Time to exchange gifts.

Laughter bounces off the walls, hugs abound, and joy is everywhere.

What's it going to be like when I'm my parent's age? And what was it like for them at our age?
Questions, answers, and more laughter.

People have become NICE. Like a contagious infection, it has spread from person to person throughout the holiday season, until everyone smiles. And also like an infection, it will be "cured." Is the cure better than the disease?

I wish the NICE disease didn't have to disappear until next year. Is there anyway to make it last?

Christmas Surprise

The boys have been home from college since Monday (today's Wednesday.) The house has become strewn with stuff. Their stuff. It's hard to move with the clutter. The Christmas decorations remain in the attic. The boys wander around town. And the 25th is in a week.

I love my boys. But sometimes...OK, so this afternoon I blew up - just a little. I'm sure Jimmy was kidding when he said everyone around him reacted to my yelling at him over the phone. And Tom was screwing the Superman plate onto the front of the truck.

So I headed out to run some errands. Which I still haven't gotten done because of the phone call.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Tom."

"I put my foot through the ceiling."

"What?"

"I was up in the attic and slipped. My leg went through the ceiling at the top of the stairs."

"You OK?"

"Yup."

Silence.

I grinned, imagining his incredibly long leg sticking through the ceiling.

I cringed, thinking of the mess that needs to get cleaned up.

I groaned at the amount of work to repair the hole, then repaint the entire ceiling!

After rushing home to grab my camera, Tom displayed his work of art. Then out came the vacuum and the cleaning commenced.

Tom tried to surprise me by getting the decorations down by himself. All I can say is, I'm surprised!

I gave him a huge hug.