Cordelia's Mom, Still

Yes, Cordelia, There Is a Santa … Isn’t There?

Posted on December 19, 2013 by cordeliasmom2012

It’s hard to believe I’ve been blogging for a whole year. Last year, I received a tremendous response to my post on Cordelia Calls It Quits about Cordelia Family Christmases past, so this year I thought it might be fun to go waaaay back in time and revisit my own childhood and young adult holidays.

My very first memory of Christmas was when I was probably about 4 years old (yes, I did say “waaay back.”)

That year, my Dad decided it would be great fun to get one of his friends to dress up as Santa and come visit us on Christmas Eve. My family had just finished dinner when there was a knock at the door. Normally, my parents or one of my older brothers would answer the door, but for whatever reason (in my little mind), everyone kept saying , “[Cordelia’s Mom] – can you open the door?”

(Please, everyone, don’t tell me you’re naïve enough to think I was called “Cordelia’s Mom” back then! Obviously, I did have a name, I just refuse to use it in this blog.)

It took a lot of my family’s coaxing to get me to go anywhere near that door. At age 4, I was well aware that the world contained all kinds of monsters, some of which insisted on hiding in my bedroom closet.

Finally, I got my courage. I tentatively, and slowly, opened that door. And there stood – the biggest, fattest STRANGER I ever saw, with a white beard and wearing a bright red suit, and booming “HO-HO-HO!”

Scared the bejeebers out of me! I immediately turned tail and ran into my mother’s arms, and there I stayed no matter how much that fat old stranger tried to sweet talk to me.

Sometimes even the best idea a parent has will backfire in a surprising way.

I don’t recall if it was that same year or the following year that my Dad bought the mail-order “life size” animated doll. Imagine my surprise when I gleefully opened a very large present to find a doll taller than me, which when wound up could walk and talk just like me.

Imagine a 4-year-old being faced with a doll taller than her which is walking towards her and talking in a weird, mechanical voice!

Scared the bejeebers out of me!

And that doll wound up being replaced by one much, much smaller than me and which did nothing other than let me play with it in normal 4-year-old fashion.

***

Fast forward a number of years. I now had a younger brother. I had outgrown Santa, but my baby brother still believed.

My family lived in a house which was built over the garage. My Dad was a contractor who worked out of the house and had lots of equipment and supplies in the garage, and we kids were not inclined to go in there. So naturally, that’s where my parents hid the Christmas presents.

Come Christmas Eve, my younger brother was sent to bed fairly early, with the usual caution that Santa would not come until all young children were asleep. My brother, bless his little heart, tried very hard to sleep and pretended that he was, in fact, asleep. He was very concerned that Santa might not be able to land because it had not snowed that year. My job was to sit with him and make sure he didn’t leave his room.

Suddenly, there was a clatter downstairs, and my older brothers were heard yelling, “Come on, Santa – drop them right here!” My brothers proceeded to run all over the driveway and front sidewalk, constantly “guiding” Santa to the right spot for them to catch those presents. I think we may even have heard Santa’s Ho-Ho-Ho as he flew away.

My baby brother began trembling, but again, bless his little heart, he made that mighty effort to pretend to be asleep. We didn’t make the poor little guy suffer too long – once Santa had unloaded the gifts, my older brothers brought everything upstairs, and we “woke up” my little brother so we could begin our traditional Chrismas Eve festivities.

***

And then there was my favorite, most heart-warming Christmas. I was in my early 20s and in my first marriage. My then husband had sustained a back injury at his construction job and could not go out into the woods behind our apartment complex to chop down a tree. With the loss of income, we had very little money for food, and nothing available to buy a Christmas tree.

We made the best of it. If I recall correctly, I decorated a couple of small houseplants, and we made a holiday dinner out of whatever canned goods we still had on hand. All in all, it wasn’t a bad Christmas Eve – we were young and had each other, and were not yet even anticipating our eventual divorce.

(Hmmm, I’m not sure my three girls knew that I had been married to someone other than their Dad – but I guess they do now …)

Along about 10:00 pm that night, there was a knock on our apartment door. We were not expecting company and were too old to believe in Santa. My then husband hobbled to the door – and standing there were many of our friends, with food, gifts, and a Christmas tree!

Our friends didn’t have any more money than we did, really, and some of them weren’t the most honest people on the face of this earth. I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but eventually I couldn’t stand the suspense and asked how they happened to come across a “free” tree late on Christmas Eve.

The leader of the group paused a moment, and then finally admitted … they had gone around after all the Christmas tree stands had closed and picked up branches and a stump that had been left behind, and they made us a Christmas tree!

No one has EVER had a more beautiful tree, not even Charlie Brown!

***

I hope every one of my readers has a loving, peaceful holiday season. Give someone you love a hug from Cordelia’s Mom!

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As always, I love to hear from my readers. You may either comment on this post, or email me at: cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com

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Images by: IronRodArt/Royce Blair, and Allen/Roadsidepictures, and Darcie Tanner, and Ken/Sentrawoods, respectively

Posted in Holidays, Relationships, That's Life | Tagged Christmas, Christmas Eve, Holidays, Santa, Santa Claus | 10 Comments

Guess What, Mr. V: My Readers Disagree With You

Posted on December 12, 2013 by cordeliasmom2012

Anyone who has been following me from the beginning knows the story about that 11^th grade English teacher, Mr. V. If you don’t know it, you can read the story in my About page.

Today’s post is about revenge versus forgiveness.

For many, many years, I totally hated that English teacher. So much, in fact, that on my second guest post on Cordelia’s website, I wanted to add a postscript that said:

“F… you, Mr. V!”

Cordelia rejected that . (I can’t imagine why – but maybe the fact that it was a Christmas post had something to do with it.)

I even had visions of posting Mr. V’s real name and maybe trying to find out where he lives now and posting that! If I discovered he had died in the interim, maybe I could find his tombstone and post a picture with some kind of wicked comment. (Yep, Cordelia’s Mom can be a really nasty person if you cross her.)

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became – I could have had a real writing career were it not for that one teacher’s stupid comment. I wanted to get back at him somehow, and I wanted him to know that I had proved him wrong – I now had READERS who didn’t think my writing was worthless.

So back and forth Cordelia and I went on the draft of that post. She loved the post itself (who wouldn’t?), but the hatred simply didn’t fit in with the style of her blog.

Maybe I should’ve posted it on:

www[dot]IHateMyOldTeacherAndWishHeWereDead[dot]com.

[Note to readers: don’t even try, I made sure it’s not a real site!)

I wracked my poor pitiful brain to come up with something that would express my anger but not offend Cordelia’s readers.

Finally I came up with:

“Rot in Hell, Mr. V — BUT happy holidays to you, too, wherever you may really be!”

That certainly covered it, I thought. But again, surprisingly, Cordelia rejected it.

Well, I really wanted my guest post published because it was a gift to my newly found readers.

What to do?

I sat back and began thinking (it does happen sometimes.)

I thought back over the many, many years since high school and all the ways that I had found to use my writing abilities. Beyond the normal work-related material, I had found an outlet once I had children of my own. After all, who better to write those Santa and Easter Bunny letters than a parent who knows the child best?

“Dear Cordelia: Thank you for your letter. I’ll try my best to bring you the puppy you want, but I will have to check with your parents first to be sure they have the ability to take care of it for you. I have had problems with PETA in the past when I have given a live animal to a child at Christmas time, and then that child’s parents didn’t want it and wouldn’t allow it. I notice there are lots and lots and lots of other nice items on your wish list, and I promise to bring you at least one of those. – Love, Santa.”

(No, Cordelia, you haven’t forgotten that one – I never actually wrote it. But I would have if I had thought of it at the time.)

So, for each Christmas and Easter, each of my children received a very nice, handwritten note from Santa and/or the Easter Bunny. I even used special pens and papers, and disguised my penmanship so they wouldn’t catch on. And when Cordelia grew too old to believe, I got her a set of special pens, and she took over the task for her sisters. Worked out well for all of us.

***

Anyway, back to the issues with my Christmas post.

My rambling thoughts focused back on Mr. V.

Maybe I was able to write such wonderful stuff now BECAUSE I was so angry with him. Maybe the need to prove him wrong had become the very catalyst I needed to put my abilities into the public light.

My thoughts took an alarming turn. Instead of HATRED, I was beginning to feel THANKFUL to that cranky old man. And at some point, I began to feel COMPASSION.

Maybe the reason he had come down so hard on a starry eyed teenager was because he, himself, had failed as a writer. Maybe in his own, misguided way, he was trying to save me the pain of pursuing a dream that might ultimately cause me more misery than happiness.

(Or, maybe he really was just a cranky old fart who enjoyed dashing a child’s dreams. We’ll never really know, will we?)

After several hours of this deep thinking (and several glasses of wine), I made the final edit to my postscript on the Christmas post:

“Oh, and a note to Mr. V: While I would not be unhappy if you got coal in your stocking this year, I do want to wish you a happy holiday. Thanks to Cordelia’s readers [*gasp* MY readers?] I have finally forgiven you.”

***

Sometimes, a parent learns from the child. Cordelia (and her readers) taught me forgiveness.

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As always, I love to hear from my readers. You may either comment on this post, or email me at: cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com

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Images by: andrewbuter, and Aaron Smith/Random Factor, and only_point_five, and Sarah Deer, respectively

Posted in That's Life | Tagged forgiveness, Mr. V, revenge, writing | 2 Comments

Houses And Other Needy Things

Posted on December 5, 2013 by cordeliasmom2012

The toaster oven died this morning.

Now, I realize that is a minor annoyance for most people. After all, if you’re used to having a toasted bagel in the morning, being forced to have a cold bagel instead is not a great way to start off a hectic workday, but it is not a crisis situation.

However, in my case, this is just one more setback in our already unsteady financial situation.

I blame it all on the dog and my mother.

After having to replace our hazardous front porch last year, we were digging out financially and holding our own, when the 12-year-old dog became ill and had to be put down. It took over $1,000 of our minimal savings, by the time we took him to the emergency vet, had x-rays, then ultimately had to have him euthanized and cremated. I don’t regret the cost – we loved that dog, and his ashes are currently residing in a place of honor in our living room.

But then, my elderly mother became seriously ill, necessitating two overnight trips to visit her in the hospital and the nursing home, which were in a town a couple of hundred miles away. I don’t have credit cards, so all expenses for the overnight stays had to be paid in cash. Not a lot of money, and again, I am glad I went, because my mother died while I was with her – and I would have been devastated had I not been able to spend those last few days with her.

The little devil in my brain has been whispering that if my dog and my mother had not died, none of the following would have happened:

The dryer broke and could not be repaired, and the washer began showing signs that it would soon be suffering death throes, so it made sense to replace both of them at the same time – another $850.

Were we done then?

Nope, the microwave died – that was only $60 because we only use a small tabletop model, and Walmart was having a sale that week. And the iron stopped heating – another $30.

Meanwhile, it turned out that my mom did, in fact, have a very small estate, and the executor made a distribution of about $2,000 to each sibling.

OK, so the cost of vet bills, the hotel stays, the washer & dryer, the microwave, and the iron were pretty much covered.

Wouldn’t you think fate would be satisfied?

Nope.

The smaller dog got sick and we had to take her to a doggie specialist 85 miles away – $105 (that vet gave us a break because we had traveled so far to see him).

The filter on the fish tank failed – $40. I suppose I could have let the fish die since they’re only guppies, but heck, they’re still living creatures, right? And I did save them from being “feeder fish” at the pet store. And it’s so cute when every single one of them comes to the top of the tank when they know it’s near feeding time.

The weather got chilly, and the furnace croaked out. We had three different reputable contractors tell us that not only did the furnace need to be replaced, but since the hot water tank was just as old and could leak at any time (thereby flooding the basement and ruining the new furnace and the new washer/dryer), it would be best to replace that, too. In the process of replacing these items, it was discovered that we needed a dedicated electrical line for the hot water tank. And then, it was discovered that the main water shut-off to the house was corroded, about to go, and had to be taken care of immediately.

Total by the time that was all completed? About $4,800.

Done yet? Not on your life.

It rained, and rained, and rained. The ceiling in the master bedroom began to leak.

Granted, when we moved into the house almost 20 years ago, the home inspector told us we had about 5 years left on the roof. So we were 15 years over that estimate.

And the roof had to be done NOW, before winter set in. Every single contractor we called said that because we already had several layers on the roof and there were now holes, the roof could not be repaired – it would have to be a total tear-down and re-roof.

The first estimates came in at between $6,200 and $8,000 (thank God it’s a small house). But we didn’t have $6,200-$8,000. So we shopped around.

We were already into Fall, and here in Buffalo, NY, snow can come really early. I cringed every time it got windy or looked like rain.

Finally, we found a young, recently established roofer who had an A+ rating with the Better Business Bureau. He was able to do the roof for $4,600 and got it all done in ONE DAY by bringing in 10 men to do the work.

I had to borrow $1,200 from a relative to meet the cost of the roof.

OK, so now we’ve GOTTA be done, right?

Nope, my car developed: (1) first, a flat tire, and (2) transmission issues. Thank heavens, the tire could be patched (only $15), and the transmission repairs were covered by the warranty.

So – NOW we’re done?

Nope, the toaster oven died this morning.

***

I’m almost afraid to go home after work today. There are still a few items in my house that haven’t been repaired or replaced in the last few months. I don’t want to jinx myself by telling you what they are.

And Christmas is coming, as is tax season.

And – I still have to pay Cordelia for all her blogging advice. Thank heavens she lets me pay her with food and drink!

***

ADDENDUM: Immediately after scheduling the above for publication (and I mean, within days), I was driving home on a dark, rainy night and ran over something I couldn’t see, shredding another tire. New tire – $170. Please — am I done yet?

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As always, I love to hear from my readers. You may either comment on this post, or email me at cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com

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Images by: j valas images, and Alice Chaos, and Mark Purcell, and SalFalko, respectively

Posted in That's Life | Tagged broke, finances, getting by, houses, money, needful things, poorhouse, repairs | 10 Comments

Good Reads for Snowy Days (or Any Day)

Posted on December 2, 2013 by cordeliasmom2012

COMING THIS MONTH

From paycheck to paycheck, to poorhouse – December 5, 2013
Revenge is sweet (or not) – December 12, 2013
Santa through the ages – December 19, 2013
Light bulbs needed – December 26, 2013

It’s hard to believe 2013 is almost over. It’s been an exciting year for me!

I hope you all have enjoyed reading my posts this year as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

***

Cordelia’s Mom reserves the right to modify the above schedule, or to insert additional posts. Be sure to sign up for email notification so you don’t miss any extra posts.

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As always, I love to hear from my readers. Either comment on this post or email me at: cordeliasmom2012@yahoo.com

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Image by: teefaye