A few thoughts on Christmas 2025

I've been pondering what, if anything, needs to be recorded about Christmas 2025. Many things have been laid on my heart this season, and I hardly know where to begin. There is a wisdom that says look to the big things first, and the small things will fill in around them. I think that is true.

This was my second Christmas without Ron. I could argue it was really my third because in 2023, he was sicker than I knew, and he wasn't talking. He was here, but he slept most of the time. I worried, but without his cooperation, there wasn't a lot I could do. 

So, Christmas alone. Yes. Ron's sister had me up to her house twice, but Christmas Day was spent alone. On Christmas Eve, my cousin and I walked the dogs in the morning, and that was the only person I talked to all day. Christmas morning brought a flurry of texts, but I spoke to no one. There is a peace, and a reckoning, to silence and solitude. I sat with my thoughts and they were good company. 

I thought about making a Christmas Day video, but shelved the idea. I'll get around to making one shortly, after dinner at the cousin's house. Today is when all the grandkids can come. Their respective father's get them on Christmas Day, and we don't make a fuss about it and make the kids feel guilty. Their grandparents are smarter than that. In a few short years, the grandkids will be able to decide for themselves where they want to be for Christmas. We shall see. 

I stopped decorating for Christmas a decade ago, when adding a tree to our smaller space would have gotten in the way of Ron's wheelchair. This year, I almost missed having one. I debated getting one until I saw the price tags. Nooooooooo. The little ceramic tree that came from my grandmother will suffice. I did, however, do a small craft project to hang some of my fancier balls in the front window. It was enough to satisfy the urge to decorate. The bow window has four glass panels, and I didn't realize my project would look like a cross once hung. I think I'll modify it next year. 

Ron was a great gift-giver. Over the years, he gave me three sets of pearls. The first set was a choker with stud earrings. I loved it - a lot. But this year, I gave the set to his daughter. She cried. I felt a few pangs parting with the pearls, but she needed something of value from her father, and that was the best I had to give her. It's not like she needs a set of Snap-On wrenches, so it was the pearls. 

The only close female cousin I grew up with called me yesterday to tell me she's going to be a grandmother again. Totally unexpected, unplanned, but everyone is happy about it. I'm given to understand her son is going for the snip-snip early in 2026. At least they know how it happened! 

It may have been Christmas Day, but gardening fever is beginning. I measured the outside dimensions of my garden space and trolled the Internet for the type of fencing I want for my corner. I checked out websites for seeds, and I suspect the good stuff won't come online until after the Christmas sales. I looked at elevated beds and decided I don't need something off the A-list. How many more years will I be gardening? I don't know, so a product that will last eight to ten years is sufficient. This year coming, 2026, needs to be the year I go ahead and purchase everything I want so I will have a few years to enjoy having my garden space "perfect for me."

Deuce officially turns ten in January 2026. I've resisted visiting Labrador websites. Do I really want to get a puppy in 2026? Do I want to get another dog at all? I always thought Deuce would be my last dog and Ron and I would have more freedom to be away from home for longer periods of time. That certainly did not work out as planned. As I get older, I worry who will care for Deuce if something happens to me. It'll be worse with the next dog. It's sobering to consider. 

This Christmas has driven home just how many ways my life has changed. It's not better, it's not much worse, but it is different. Change comes to us all, and it is often an uncomfortable bedfellow. Not even hope, peace, love, and joy can alter the progression of time. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, Christmas 2025, black Labrador Retriever, family, aging, life changes, holiday recollections, rural living, country lifestyle, 

Holly Tree Manor turns six

Holly Tree Manor turns six years old today. Never did I think I'd travel some of the roads I've traversed. There have been a lot of changes in my life since that fateful day in 2019 when I started the Holly Tree Manor blog. 

I retired on wonderful terms from my employer in May 2022. Ron passed in March of 2024. My stepfather passed. My mother is in a home with Alzheimer's Disease. Family I was unsure of have embraced me after years of very little contact. I'm reminded of the words of a song, "what a long, strange trip it's been." 

I look back at all the changes in my life, and I'm sure of only one thing. There is no where else on earth I would rather be than right here on my little manor. No where.

The trip continues. Come along with me. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, anniversary, country lifestyle, rural living, a writer's life, heaven on earth, seasons, life changes, family, friends

How busy is too busy?

 

To say that's it's been a busy stretch would be an understatement. It's that time of year when you look around and see a few things that need done before the really cold weather creeps up on you. So I got busy, did the work, and I videoed a lot of it. 

There was cleaning up the wood yard. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOMDflULKhs&t=8s 

I harvested the basil and made pesto. It's not really a cooking vid, just the way I do it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k922IppD3FE&t=17s

One day, I took some time to do the little bit of fall decorating I do. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pC2V-dpXLVU

But the really BIG THING that happened was the tree trimmers finally arrived to take down the mostly dead oak tree. I've been sorting and organizing the logs so that when the wood dries out enough to split, it will be an easier job. That video isn't out yet, but it's coming soon. 

On top of all that at the home front, I've been out to dinner with friends, dined with family, and enjoyed the weekly Trivia Nite at a local "tavern" with a cousin. The game takes place in the ballroom so you know it's not a real tavern. I canned a batch of green peppers, chicken breast, and white bean and sausage soup.

This week, I put on my author hat and started to add my backlist to Audible. You can read about that over at Between the Keys. If you already have some of my titles, you can add the audiobook for $1.99. It's going to cost me a small fortune to get the audiobooks into my personal library, but it'll be worth it. 

It seems like I have something to do every day, and by the end of the day, I'm bushed. Heck, I went to bed with the chickens last night and slept for nine hours! 

In reality, I think it's good to be busy. Having nothing to do would make life pretty boring. Those days are just around the corner. Winter will arrive and my days will shrink to the computer, the TV, and the woodstove. 

Until then, I'll count my busy blessings.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, YouTube, autumn, gardening, woodstove, firewood, tree trimming, cooking, basil, Black Labrador Retriever, family, trivia, winter, audio books

An amazing job well done

The well drillers left a huge mess in my backyard. Even with the John Deere 1023, I wasn't sure I could get the area cleared of that nasty clay slop that went everywhere. Enter my cousin Dave, whom I can never repay for all he's done for me. 

My cousin brought his Kubota tractor up and we got to work taking bucket-full after bucket-full of the muck down the old tractor path and depositing it on a pile. Any dreams I had of restoring the old tractor path to the condition it was in when our grandfather used it are gone. But thank the good Lord I had a enough land to get that clay muck out of sight. 

We spent several hours a day for five days getting the backyard ready for grass seed. The first three days was all tractor work and not too strenuous. The last two days required raking, picking up stones, and shoveling. My shoulders and back still ache. 

It is regrettable we can't go back and make different decisions. I wish I'd never started this project. I'm not any better off than before I spent all that money. Live and learn. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, well drilling, rural living, John Deere 1023, Kubota, family, grass seed, hard work, mistakes

Work continues in the woodyard

It is that time of year - time to cut, split, and stack firewood. My cousin and I have been hard at it for the last week and we've barely made a dent in the logs harvested from taking down the leaning maple. I suspect we'll be burning firewood from that harvest into the 2025-26 season.  I have wood stacked in places I've never stacked before. 

Working with my cousin is enjoyable but challenging. He's a lot stronger than me so he gets ahead of me. He runs the splitter, and I load the firewood into the John Deere bucket to take and stack. Generally, he's got a pile for me to scoop up by the time I get done stacking and get back to him. 

I have the rack inside the shop full of firewood. That's inside and ready to go. There is a stack just outside the basement door which I will rotate in when there is room. It might get a bit damp, but it'll have time to dry back out before it's burned. After that stack is inside, I may or may not bring over some of the poplar to stack outside the door. It depends on the weather. I may just hold off and drop it directly down the outside basement steps. It's great to have the John Deere! 

It's so easy to move wood with the tractor. I rest the bucket against a woodpile and give the firewood a shove into the bucket. Sure, I have to pick up any pieces that miss, but very few do. Then I simply drop the load down the steps, go inside and open the door, and stack what I dropped in the inside rack. When you have a repetitive task, you find ways to make the job easier. 

Living on the side of a mountain can be a lot of hard work, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I was raised by adults who believed work was good for a person, and that it gave a person purpose. They were correct. 

I've been on the receiving end of a few nasty comments over the years. How it must be nice to have been given acreage. Yes, it was. But our grandfather would not have given each of us property if we hadn't proven we were willing to work, both at our jobs and in our personal lives. It's not that difficult to do when you have good examples to emulate, and our grandfather was the best. 

We know the value of having firewood on hand. Our local power grid is about to be overloaded and we know it. We may be in the dark this winter, but we'll be warm. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, firewood, John Deere, country lifestyle, rural living, hard word, autumn rituals, family

A dark ending to a great day

Yesterday, my cousin and I had a very successful yard sale. Many no longer needed items went to new homes and my cousin and I caught up with each other. It was a lot of work to pack up everything and haul it to my uncle's driveway, but the trip home was a lot lighter, ergo, easier. 

I had a great time with Linda, but I was happy to get home. The temps were in the upper 80sF, and there was barely a breeze. It was hot. I unloaded the pickup and then flopped on the bed for a quick rest. A line of thunderstorms was approaching so I didn't want to try to do anything outside. I didn't have time, so a flop-down was my best option. The wind ahead of the front was scary strong and I re-joined the Lord of the Manor to keep an eye on the blowing trees. At about 4:00 pm, we heard BOOM!! BOOMBOOMBOOM!!!

And the house went completely still. The electric power was out. I made the call to report the outage, and so did everyone else in our little enclave. We watched it rain and speculated how long it would take until the power was restored. Longer than we thought.

One of the cousins, being the curious sort, hopped into his truck and drove out to see if he could figure out where the BOOM! occurred and reported in to everyone else.

Just to the right of our bridge, the wind snapped the top out of a tree which fell across the power lines which snapped off the top of a pole that just happened to house a transformer. No wonder there was a big BOOM! 

The word from the power company was grim. We could expect power to be restored no later than 4 PM the next day. Well, crap. 

But country folk are generally prepared for these things. We went out and readied our old generator. I don't even remember what brand it is or the specs on it. All I know is it started and ran like the champ it is. And we heard the humming of other generators as other neighbors settled in for the siege and a few hours lived mostly in the dark.

Happily, the power was restored to us around 7:30 am, or thereabouts. The generator had done it jobs and kept the refrigerator and freezer running. We had water and Internet (sort of), and if it had rained to the point the sump pump was needed, we'd have power to it. 

It's the stormy time of the year. I think I'll leave the generator at the ready for a few more days, just in case. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, power outages, generators, rural living, country lifestyle, preparedness, a writer's life, family, storm damage, trees

Getting ready for a Yard Sale

Several years ago, quite a few in reality, my cousin Linda and I joined forces and had a Yard Sale in my Uncle Dick's driveway. His house is just off a major state road that is well traveled, so a sign with Yard Sale and an arrow brings the people to us. 

We enjoyed the day and spoke of doing it again. Well, there was life and there was COVID. Mainly COVID. We didn't want to draw in people in the middle of a pandemic even if others in our larger community did it. We decided to wait a year or two. More like five or six at this point. Tomorrow the waiting is over and we're spending the day together! 

And that's what it's all about - spending time together. It's not about how much money we may or may not make. It's about a lazy day sitting under an umbrella for shade and chatting. I have no doubt we'll talk about growing up together and those we loved so much who have departed this life. Linda is one of the few people remaining who knew my father. Her memories of him are precious to me. 

When someone asks me, "What was the best day of your life?", the only one that comes to mind is a day I spent with Linda and my mom. We visited a local state park and walked up a stream, hopping from rock to rock for several miles. It was a beautiful summer day. We were so relaxed, so happy, and we laughed and laughed. Only the three of us have that memory, and now it is lost to my mother. Yes, time with Linda is precious.

Getting ready for the Yard Sale was pretty easy. I did a bit every day, deciding what could go and what items were simply ready for the landfill. Not everything can be salvaged or up-cycled. I cleaned the card tables one day, and put price tags on items another. One day was reserved for getting a few things down from the attic and wiping them down. I took my time over the course of the last two weeks and picked at the job until today. Everything is loaded in the Colorado and ready to go in the morning. 

I sure hope it doesn't rain! 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, rural living, yard sale, family, country lifestyle, working together, memories, growing up country, up-cycle, a writer's life, Alzheimer's Disease, state parks

Remembering on Memorial Day

Memorial Day is a day to remember those who entered military service on our behalf. Military service is a big deal in my family. My five-times great-grandfather whose last name I was born with took the Oath to the new United States back in 1781. My father served in Germany during the Korean Conflict. 

Dad never saw any "action." He was tasked with driving some General around. He made it sound like he and the General got along rather well during their time together. 

Some people may snicker that this was the task assigned to him, that he didn't do much. Driving a General around - how hard can it be? 

So driving around one of the command staff and protecting him, having to make the decision to step in front of a bullet if necessary isn't really serving your country? It is. 

I thank all our veterans for performing the tasks put to them and the families of those who never made it home for such a sacrifice. 

The Lady of the Hideaway

Memorial Day, veterans, Korean Conflict, Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, a writer's life, rural living, family

My Grandmother's lamp

Before I was born, my mother gifted my grandmother with a lamp. My grandmother loved it! It was one of her treasures and it sat in a place of honor in her living room. I don't remember a time when it wasn't there - until it wasn't. It vanished one day when the daughters of my closest first cousin were small, back in the 80s.  My mother and I were afraid to ask, and my grandmother never divulged what happened. 

Mom and I feared the worst. Mom was angry. I was sad. Had the girls managed to break it? The answer turned out to be that they had not. 

My grandmother passed in 1997, and Mom had the task of helping my grandfather take some necessary steps at his house. The lamp was discovered, safe and sound, in a spare bedroom. My mother immediately brought it to me. Mom had purchased the lamp, and to her way of thinking, it now should be returned to her, and she wanted me to have it. 

My grandmother's lamp is one of the many treasures of hers that I've kept over the years. The lamp has been a fixture in my writing cave (office) since I made the dedicated space. Yesterday, I got a set of new lamps and switched them out in preparation for passing my grandmother's lamp to her eldest great-granddaughter, one of the very girls my mother had been convinced had broken it. 

My lovely second cousin will in a few weeks celebrate her fortieth birthday, and it seemed the appropriate time to pass the lamp to her. She does remember it from her childhood and so I'm happy she has the memory of it. She knows it's on the way to her and I know she will keep it safe, hopefully to pass it along to her eldest daughter. 

Will I miss having it? Will I miss that connection to my grandmother every time I step into my office? Yes, I will. Had I known how much I may have held off another year or five. No matter. It's a done deal and I've done exactly what my grandmother would have wanted. I've passed on a treasure to the next generation so that they can enjoy it. 

Thanks, Mam. I took care of it for you. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, family, cousins, lamp, heirloom, pass it on, rural lifestyle, country living, a writer's life, grandmothers, do the right thing

Parting with treasures

My family's Christmas gathering happened this past Saturday night, hosted by my young cousin who lives on the other side of the road. She's part of what I generally refer to as Gen 4.

Gen 1 was my grandparents, Gen 2 my parents, I and my first cousins Gen 3, the children of my first cousins comprise Gen 4, their children are Gen 5, and now we have reached Gen 6. It amazes me to see how once again my family has grown. 

I say "my family" but I am the outlier. The one with no offspring of my own. Was this by choice, design, or fate? It's a difficult question to answer. At the appropriate time in my life, I did nothing to prevent the possibility, and yet here I am. 

It's time to part with some of my grandmother's treasures. Forty years ago she gave me the set pictured. I remember the three-tiered dish laden with cookies and sitting just inside her front door every Christmas season. Everyone, even my father, walked through the door and snatched a cookie before even taking off their coat. The candy dish made an appearance around Easter, filled with jelly beans. I'm not sure I realized the two pieces were a set until she gave them to me. I don't remember seeing them side-by-side until then. 

My young cousin enjoys hosting get-togethers and was therefore the logical choice for the party pieces. I signed up to take cheesecake to the party so I purchased little individually wrapped cheesecake bites and arranged them on the tiers. I made sure to arrive a wee bit early so I could more privately tell her  the set was now hers. I got a big hug from her, too. 

Parting with this treasure from my hoard was easier than I imagined it would be. I suppose that means it's the timing was correct. Back in the days when we hosted parties, I used my grandmother's set and I got a lot of enjoyment from doing so. 

I'll continue to enjoy my grandmother's set, only now it will be on her great-granddaughter's table, not mine. I think that's the way it was always meant to be. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, Christmas, family, heirlooms, simple country pleasures, rural living, country lifestyle, generations, party pieces, a writer's life

Almost forty years ago

November 8, 1983. 

That's the day my father died of lung cancer. 

I think I was too young to fully understand the loss. Yes, I felt overwhelming grief and everything else you would expect. But almost forty years on I know the true depth of the loss of the man who was my father. 

I was twenty-six when Dad died. We'd just really begun to have an adult relationship. I was always going to be his daughter, but we were discovering how to be grownups together. We could sit and talk about grownup topics openly, and ask opinions of each other. And we could sit at the picnic table that he built and I still have in my backyard, sip iced tea, and not talk at all. 

My father was very well respected in the family. A quiet man, I remember times of family gatherings when the "discussion" turned spirited and someone would say, "what do you think, Gene?" My father would speak, and that was the end of the discussion of that topic. It's just the way it was.

My grandfather stood at Dad's coffin and cried. Dad had become another son to Pop. Pop understood the loss of someone dying at the age of fifty-four better than I did at that time. 

I can't believe Dad has been gone for almost forty years. It seems the blink of an eye. I feel cheated, twice over, that I only had him so few years. You see, my mother was widowed for ten years and then she remarried. After that, she told me point blank we couldn't discuss Dad any longer because she didn't want to hurt the new husband's feelings. 

What? I didn't have any feelings? I most certainly did at that point and none of them were kind. 

Life has marched on, but I still miss my father every day. The years stretch behind me, a gulf I can't breach, and it hurts. It always hurts.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, death of a parent, remembrance, dying, country living, rural lifestyle, respect, family

Firewood warms you three times, so they say

There's an old saying my grandfather used to repeat every year. Did I mention he said this every year? Like we hadn't heard it the first time. He always said firewood warmed a person three times: once when you cut down the tree, once when you split and stacked the wood, and lastly when you burned it. I suppose he was right. 

It's firewood season on the manor. It used to be a lot easier to split and stack firewood, but we were younger.

It has been several years since we had firewood in bulk. Having hundreds of trees, we rarely have needed to cut one down just for wood. Enough branches and the occasional entire tree fell that we simply cleaned up the debris and had enough to burn. Having the tree trimmer here this year means we have a lot of firewood to season for several following years and not much for this winter. 

As a general rule, firewood needs to dry out, or season, for a year. When a branch hits the ground on its own, it's generally been hanging dead on the tree for a while and can be used immediately. 

My cousin and I spent most of yesterday afternoon splitting poplar rounds. It's harder on him than on me. He has to move those big rounds to the splitter. I have to stack the pieces. He seems to be in more of a hurry to get it all done than I am. I know it will get done eventually, and with our weather, we have through November for outside work. He's probably coming back this morning to do more.

I'm grateful for his help. Without it, we would have had to pay a commercial company to take down the trees and remove the large trunks. It would probably cost $2000 a tree instead of $300 a tree. And we would not have ended up with a firewood surplus that will help both households over the next few winters. 

My cousin and I talk about our grandparents while we work. We were both given acreage to build our homes on, and I ended up with the woods. I know they would expect me to share the firewood with my cousin, and I'm happy to do that. 

Here on the manor, handling firewood is about more than keeping warm. It's about family.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, country lifestyle, rural living, firewood, log splitter, a writer's life, tree management, family, tree trimming. 

No way to judge

Turkey......        check
Potatoes......     check
Stuffing.....    check
Gravy.....        check
Cranberry sauce....    check
Sweet potatoes.....    check
Corn.......       check
Green beans.....    check
Wine.....            check
Bourbon......        check
Pumpkin pie....    check
Butter.....        check
Rolls......    check
Jelly.....    check
Whipped cream....     check
Coffee.....    check

It looks like I have all the ingredients I need in the pantry to fix Thanksgiving dinner for two. It'll be just him and me again this year, and it doesn't bother me much. The world turns. People come and go. Family makeup changes. We take it as it comes.

We are very blessed to be able to look forward to a traditional turkey dinner. Having worked hard all our lives, we were able to get in this position. I got my first job at sixteen, and Himself was working on a farm by the time he was twelve for a dollar a day. In our families, we were expected to work hard just like our parents and grandparents. So we did, and we did it without complaint. Complaining, or acting victimized, were not options. We were not given or taught those options. 

We will give thanks when we sit down at our table because we are thankful.  We'll remember those who came before us who taught us to work hard and manage our resources. My grandparents struggled through the Great Depression and survived. His grandparents had even less. And yet they laid the foundations for us to have a better life, and we do.

He and I do not forget how easily it could have been different. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Another September passed

This September has been a busy month for me. I'm technically still employed although I work from home quite a bit. But September is budget-setting time so I've been in my town office more than I like these past few weeks. It didn't make me jump for joy but it was necessary. My employer has bent over backward for me so I can bend a bit, too. 

There are still good places to work out there. My best advice to you is to find one and prove yourself worthy of loyalty. Anyway...

September. I cleaned up my garden corral and planted another packet of radishes, which are doing quite well. The strawberries finally look good. Apple canning went splendidly. I said to hell with worrying about the pandemic and went back to the bowling league. I pondered my place in the universe far too many evenings, I read a lot of smutty books, and I didn't write or blog nearly enough. And come Saturday, I'm hosting a Cousin's Lunch. 

I'm suddenly the "middle child" between my two surviving first cousins, both guys. The older one called me a bit ago to tell me his wife was bringing an apple cake. I'd planned to make an apple cobbler or crisp, and I still may. He's also bringing his baked beans made with apples and root beer. Oh, yeah...

I'd report in on the younger cousin but they went RVing so who knows what mischief they got into, right? 

We also spent some time at our little shooting range this month. It's fun as long as we stop after a few magazines and/or cylinders. Too much is just too much and ammo isn't cheap these days. Deuce doesn't like being left inside when we're outside, either. He howls. 

It feels like the month sped past me with barely a break. I hope October will have a slower pace as the leaves begin to turn in earnest. Our showiest maple already has a few bright orange leaves and I hope it puts on a show this year. There's always the chance I won't live to see it show its colors another season, so I want to savor it, and October, the best month of the year. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Back to living

I'm getting back to living. Tonight is bowling night and I will be there. 

I sat out the 2020 season because of the Covid=19 pandemic. Since then, lies have compounded lies and I'm tired of listening to them. I'm tired of being a cow in the herd. I have more reasons than ever to mistrust the government. 

I'm a lifelong bowler. I enjoy the sport and the camaraderie of my local bowling alley, my "house." I've known many of my fellow bowlers for decades. Those of us who have bowled together for so long have become akin to family. 

Yes, this is my first step back to the land of the living. 

I'm going to shake off being afraid and I'm going to do something that I enjoy - bowling.

I'm not utterly stupid, though. I'm not about to hug people or even give a "high five" for a strike. I won't be alone in that. We bowlers are a bit smarter than that. 

Some people will wear masks and I may be among them. If a member of the league tests positive for Covid-19, it would be prudent. 

That's my statement for today. 

The Lady of the Hideaway