Tag Archives: Christmas

Ornament

ornament

An ornament upon
my tree you are-
not.

More like ice crystals
stinging and bitter cold,

a biting wind tearing
through a flimsy sweater,

jagged pieces of snow
globes broken, stabbing.

An ornament upon
my tree you are-
not.

© Pamela Rossow

Buon Natale

Dear Friends,

It’s Christmas.  For some of us, we are experiencing hardship and loss (or remembering our losses and hurting because of them).  Some of us have felt the holes deeply other years and this year is more joyful.  Some of us will be separated from those we love on this holiday.  This day and celebration is for all of us, regardless, of where life’s tide has carried us.  Whether we are sad, happy, alone, struggling to believe, in a sandy desert or together with loved ones and friends.  So, here’s to all of us.  I’m grateful to be seeing my niece and nephew tonight and tomorrow afternoon.  They are my “hole pluggers” at times when I miss my children.  There will be food, family, and love.  There will even be some of the magic that has escaped me thus far this season.  Carrots for reindeer, cookies and milk for Santa, and the same request I have repeated for years, an elf please?  May peace, joy, and love be showered upon all of you.

Love,

Pamela

Sexy Domestication

It’s nearly Christmas.  Translation:  baking.  While guys might get turned on by V8 engines, raked front ends, and flex ratcheting wrenches, some of us, domesticated women, realize that a KitchenAid stand mixer means sexy.  The power and force behind this 30 lb. beast means durability and high performance.  What more could we ask for?  Maybe a direct drive, all steel transmission?  Yup.  A burnished, spiral, dough hook?  Yup.  A six quart, stainless bowl with handle?  Uh huh.   Okay, I admit it.  I’m sorta in love.  Since baking is pretty much a labor of love, it’s all good, right?  So guys, enjoy your Craftsmen and Makitas.  I’ll be in the kitchen, mesmerized. . .

Christmas Mourning

a father stands gravely
still waiting for his son to
return at last his last good-
bye

a sea of blue stands gravely
still waiting for his son to
return at last the last good-
bye

a country stands gravely
still waiting for her loved ones to
return at last praying there’s no
last good-
bye

Pamela  Rossow