
| Banks County Opinions... |
OCTOBER 30, 2002 |
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Column By: Phillip Sartain
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Column Christmas just 56 days awayDoes that give anyone else heart palpitations? I have a list two and a half pages long of things I need to literally sit down and make between now and Christmas Eve. I need divine intervention. Everything is planned out. Ive spent plenty of time planning what I was going to do, making lists of things I need to buy in order to make what Ive planned, going to the three different stores and actually buying the stuff, and organizing the stuff into my sewing center. Now I have to do it. But I have to have at least one solid hour I can devote to it in order to make pulling all of the stuff out worthwhile. That is the proverbial needle in the haystack. How do you convince a toddler to play with her toys while you turn all of your attention to something besides her? Ive found it to be nearly impossible. She wants to be in my lap, pulling my thread or messing with the buttons on my Singer. Or theres the way she usually suckers me in. Imperially she stands with head held so straight you could balance Dr. Seuss ABC Book on it. She looks at me expectantly with a book in one hand. Down, she says, holding her arm out toward me and pointing with her finger to a spot on the floor just in front of her. Theres no way to say no to that. So the projects arent getting ticked off my list as they are completed. But I can do it. I will do it. Ill just ignore the phone message light and forego eight hours of sleep (Ill be fine with only six). Ill lock the front door and pretend Im not home when strangers come knocking wanting to sell me candy bars or wrapping paper or large industrial strength toilet paper. (I didnt even ask.) Ill get home from work and lock Piper and me into my sewing room and we wont come out until the last project is done. It isnt that they are very long projects, but it seems to me that the days are getting shorter. I know in my head there are still 24 hours in a day or 1,440 minutes, but my heart is starting to feel boxed in. I am the chicken running around in that childrens story shouting The Sky Is Falling! The Sky Is Falling! And while I take Tums for heartburn and Nortriptilene for migraines I bargain with Mother Nature to lengthen October indefinitely or at least until I finish sewing the five aprons that are on the top of my to-do list. Who knows what Ill have to promise in November in order to make 22 jars of Apple Butter and 29 jars of Dutch Apple Pie Jam and paint glasses and make 10 bowls. AHHHH! And somewhere in the rush I have to obtain a green thumb so I can grow three types of herbs from seed for my best friends birthday November 15. There have been Christmases past when I arrived at the nearest discount store with a $100 bill and a list of relatives and friends too long to buy what everybody deserved to get and only able to buy what I could afford. So not too long ago my husband and I decided to take the commercialism out of Christmas and make it about what really counts-thoughtfulness, caring and compassion. For an hour every day, I spend time thinking of one relative or another and envisioning the look on their face when I can say, I made that. I thought you would love it. All the fretting and the heartburn and the migraines and the work will pay off. Instead of unwrapping something made in Hong Kong or Indonesia, people will open something made specifically for them during little pieces of time when I was supposed to be the one counting while my daughter was hiding. Rochelle Beckstine is a columnist for MainStreet Newspapers.
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