In the fall of 1984, I bought a real potted Norfolk pine in anticipation of beginning a tradition of decorating that real tree for each winter holiday. On December 22, 1984 I was ready to start that tradition — when I got a phone call telling me to come “home” quick (to my parents’); my father was coming home from the hospital to die. (I told that story on this weblog a while ago.)
I left my high school-aged son with his father and the tree undecorated. My father died on December 26. The tree followed not long after. I haven’t had a Christmas tree since. If I decorate, it’s more in honor of the solstice — the passing through the darkest of days and moving toward a new. more joyous, season.
This year I have a new grandson, who’s coming with his mom and dad to spend his first Christmas with his grandmother and great-grandmother. There should be a tree, and lights, and stockings, and laughter. And this year there will be. It’s not a real tree, but it has lights that twinkle, and I made a totally funky un-Christmasy-looking stocking (except for the bells around the edge) for my grandson and filled it with cool baby stuff.
Last week I bought a small balsam in a pot. It’s too small to decorate, and that’s OK for this year. I’m planning for next. My mother is 86. It hope it’s not deja-vue all over again.
But even if it is, there are many more Christmases with my grandson to look forward to. And, if necessary, next time, maybe I’ll try something in fir.
In a few days I will be driving out to the Boston area to pick up and bring back the little family. (Would you believe that neither my daughter nor son-in-law ever learned how to drive!) And then I’ll drive them back after Christmas. So this might be my last post for a while. Lots to do!!
Happy Holidays, everyone. And b!X, I put your Christmas package in the mail today. Keep an eye out for it.

When I lived alone, I used to go to the movies all the time. I got into the habit early during my times of single bliss. It was the one thing I felt really comfortable doing by myself. I

Don’t you just love the creative names that bloggers come up with for their weblogs? I’m not even going to try to list them. You surf through them all of the time. I wish I had thought of something more catchy for the name of my weblog. Kalilily was the name I started using when I began sending emails. Back then everyone seemed to be concerned about preserving one’s anonymity, and I bought into that. I chose Kalilily because
1. I’m an enthusiastic student of feminine mythology because of the advantages of using female mythic figures in working toward self-empowerment. In other words, I dig mythic figures like Kali and Lilith. So, there you go. Kalilily.
2. I love Georgia O’Keefe’s calla lilies. Perfect.
So, when it came time to pick a blog name, I thought, this is a time and place for Kalilily. Kalilily Time. Not as catchy as 99% of the blognames out there, but it’s what I wound up with.
Now, back to #1, above. Kali and Lilith are not considered by traditional cultures to present pretty female pictures. They symbolize the dark sides of the femine (not evil; dark.) But their identities are powerful, and they set the stage for the emergence of the crone in all of us women — the older, strong, individualistic, solitary, compassionate, female — the one who has been there, done that, and keeps moving on to new experiences, new learning — who keeps reinventing herself so that, each time, she becomes more authentic. Now, that is something to which I aspire.
And so emerged the sub-title: Elaine of Kalilily, Resident Crone of Blogdom.
Sort of a symbol, a leitmotif, a gimmick, an identifying image. Aspiring to the “crone” thing has been part of my spiritual development for decades, and my non-blog friends know all about my journeys toward that goal. But to bloggers, the sub-title might sound a little arrogant. I guess I should have kept the words “Self-Proclaimed” where I originally had it — before the word “Resident.” I think I’ll put it back there, just so there’s no mistake.
I aspire to Cronedom. I figure that that’s not such a bad thing. And I do believe that we become what we intend.