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Welcome to my blog, a quasi-weekly column on topics and issues that have my attention, or that are intended to inform or inspire--including the following reminder:

"Realize why you're here, and be about it!"

A Cajun Day After Christmas

At 3 a.m. the dark morning after Christmas, my brother-in-law Chris took his son and a group of friends out duck-hunting.  Micheal and I declined that particular adventure, but later that afternoon we did welcome the chance to go out to Chris’s houseboat, which he keeps at the Beaumont Yacht Club, a dilapidated dock next to a dirt parking lot on a brown waterway underneath an I-10 overpass.  I kid you not.

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An Airstream Christmas

Earlier this year, my husband and I bought an Airstream.  Actually, my husband Micheal bought it.  He’s the one who makes big purchases like that.  Of course he asked my opinion and discussed his doubts with me, but he’s the one with the cash or the line of credit, and besides, he thought to use the Airstream as a mobile office for his construction business, particularly when we started building on our property in Washington.

This year, we took the Airstream on our Christmas travels, driving across country from Santa Barbara, California, through Yuma, Arizona, all the way to Beaumont, Texas. 

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As bad as things look, it's Christmas

As bad as things look—it’s Christmas

It’s Christmas, the “most wonderful time of the year,” and my husband has no work.  He’s one of millions who, through no fault of his own, finds himself without income.  He’s 54 years old and has spent a lifetime acquiring skills, education, a solid reputation, satisfied customers, excellent credit, and plenty of obligations.  He just doesn’t have any work.

            Countless find themselves in similar—or far worse—situations, and find it more difficult than usual to “relax!  Have an eggnog!  It’s Christmas!”

But in a way, it’s perfect.

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Babysitting the quads

Babysitting the quads

I'm babysitting my niece and nephews, five-year-old quadruplets who live with their Mom, my sister, in Yuma, Arizona.  From the beginning, the quads have been a handful (you're kidding) that, to a certain extent, has gotten easier to manage with time.  Or maybe it's more like the challenges change. 

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