kattitudes

This is an important year. Well, actually, every presidential election is important. We are a democracy, which means that every four years, we (the people) have the unique privilege of getting to argue with our neighbors and strangers across our nation, both in print and online, in the media and through the airwaves, about issues that we each individually hold dear.

Strangely, we seem to have morphed into a nation that does not give a tinker’s damn about the other person’s issue, as long as we can out shout them on our issue.

Usually, I keep most matters of politics out of the blog, but as I age (like fine wines and cheeses) I am getting even more opinionated and I figured that since it is my blog, I might as well go on record.

My record of choice is that we should make a choice. There. How is that for controversial? Actually, I have much more controversial views than that, such as how some of these fellows are downright dangerous to our nation, but that is as common a theme as any that you hear every four years.

When I first started at University, I thought I wanted to be an economist. I loved the theory of how people used money. I thought that was so interesting. But then, I took my first political science class, and I was lost forever. I found my love. The theories of why mankind came together. Why we argue. Why we make the choices we make. What draws us as a community. What draws us into a community. Political theory - I just loved it. Even now, I remember with such fondness how much I enjoyed deciphering for my first time all the texts that students of politics had done a hundred million times before me.

I then became involved in student government and learned a quick lesson in how dirty you must be in order to succeed. Wow. It was more than I could accept, I freely admit to that now. In my experience, there was really no place for honor in politics. Most really did have to sell their soul and at such a little price and young age. But that is another story for another day. Someday I will have to tell that story because it really is an interesting one.

However, my foray into government was on a major scale as my student government (that I did spent a few years in quite successfully) was for a university with a population of some fifty thousand people. Yes, it was indeed a large scale school. My working budget was close to nine million dollars. It was a lot of responsibility. And it gave me an unexpected insight into the personalities that get involved in politics and what they are willing to do and become to be successful.

It is hard to separate all the rhetoric that spews from the candidates mouths. I am honest. If you are not a political junkie, then the machinations and contraptions of the election process can be about as interesting as the Internal Revenue Service.

Even the “easy to read” help-you-pick-your-candidate handouts I have seen are no help because they are usually a boggy mess of information that is too much for this sound bite familiar world. It is no insult. We spend our time thinking about issues, but do not necessarily need to spend fourteen pages evaluating the fine nuances of how a candidate feels about the issue. We want a yes/no answer. Sometimes it is as simple as that.

As a result, I am really liking the oversimplistic quiz that my local news station put together to help you pick your candidate. Just like any other blog quiz, it allows you to choose how strongly you feel on an issue, and matches you with the candidate that most closely lines up with your values.

What I like is that this quiz gives you results for all the candidates (it shows you how closely they relate to your answers by percentage). The quiz also links to all types of additional information on each candidate and their stance on issues, so that if you feel like reading an additional 14 pages to get the detailed nuances of how each individual feels about the matter at hand, that information is available to you right there.

Hopefully, if you are as of yet undecided, this will help make your voting choice much easier. Once that choice is made, it truly is important for you to get out and vote. Our nation is built on our votes. Yes, America will survive if you do not vote. But you have the right to vote. You get to vote because you are an American.

Sometimes it feels like all we get are taxes and tickets and more taxes. Get yourself one of the best benefits of living in America. Take part in the seminal American process. Vote for our leader. Vote for your boss. Say who you want to speak for you so that you can spend the next four years happily able to join in arguments by saying either “hey, I didn’t vote for him/her” or “hey, at least I voted for him/her”.

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There are times that a gift just is not right. I have experienced those times, and I think if everyone were to be honest, they do too. We all do. You want to get that perfect something more, and the person that you are searching for has absolutely everything in the world. Or conversely, even if they do not have everything, they do not want or need another material possession.

There are times that material things just are not right. Those are the times that you might consider the White Envelope Project.

The White Envelope Project, told first in 1982 by Women’s Day magazine of all people, is a feelgood project whereby in place of purchasing something for your gift recipient, you take action in their name.

In other words, you do something. You get up and you do something in their honor. You build something, help someone, donate something, take action, make a stand, do something do something DO SOMETHING. Then, when Christmas comes around, instead of handing them yet another automatic pot stirrer or singing bass fish (!!!), you give them the simple white envelope.

In the envelope is a letter, written by you, wherein you describe and detail exactly what you chose to do in their name. You tell them why you chose it and what it meant to you. You tell them whatever you want. Tell them how it moved you and why you thought of them. Tell them how it changed you and why it made you both richer for the experience. Tell them whatever you want.

There are a bazillion yarns told of the worst Christmas present received ever. Why waste money? I really get up on a soapbox about this. The whole point of Christmas giving to me is to show people how we feel about them. I really try not to gift at Christmas out of a reciprocal obligation. If we are giving a present out of obligation, really, why should we bother in the first place?

The wonderful thing about the White Envelope Project website is the all encompassing help it can give you. Yes, it gives you an entire catalog of charities from which to choose if you are at a loss for a place to donate or work. But far beyond that, the White Envelope Project helps you expand your charitable giving horizons. What do I mean?

First, they outline the three easy steps to giving:

• 1. Find the Right Gift

  When you decide to “give something different,” consider the recipient of your gift and the occasion. Find a gift that is relevant and meaningful to them. Everyone has a heart-string to tug on and something that they are really passionate about. Browse this catalog for ideas or find a project in your own community. If you’re still not sure what to get, purchase a Giving Certificate to allow the recipient to choose a charity on their own.

• 2. Carry Out Your Plan

  Next, determine how you will give and carry out your plan. Are you simply making a donation or does your project require more planning? Share your idea with family members and friends and challenge them to get involved as well. Always remember to ask for help when you need it. If you donate through The White Envelope Project, we can handle all of the details and follow-up for you.

• 3. Share Your Gift

  Once you have “given something different,” share your gift with the recipient. A simple letter or card telling what you have done in their honor will have tremendous impact. Let them know how much they mean to you and how you felt that giving to others in need was a wonderful way to honor them. Focus on the impact of your actions instead of the dollars involved or sacrifices you had to make. Don’t expect anything in return, and don’t make the letter about you instead of them.

Second, if you cannot think of a particular project, the website gives you a number of project ideas, both financial opportunities and volunteer opportunities.

Finally, if you get stuck on how to write your letter telling your recipients of what you did for their gift and why, the White Envelops Project website has a number of example letters, plus they have an option where they will write the letter for you!

I look around at my home and know that I have. so. many. material. things. More material things than any one person really needs in life. Sure, there are more things I would love to have because I am an imperfect human who falls slave to commercialism. But realistically, I know in my heart that I need nothing else in life. Everything at this point in my life from here on out is completely gravy. I have more food and shelter and transportation than I will probably ever be able to use. Of course, those things could change in a moment, with any natural disaster, but I recognize how lucky I am in this world.

How many of your gift recipients are in the same boat? Do they really need another material possession?

How many times during the Christmas season do we search and stress looking for that one last gift for cousin Susie or brother Bob? Would the White Envelope Project fit the bill instead this year?

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In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset grow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Dec 8, 1915 John McCrae

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Does this happen in your neighborhood? Or is this just a southern phenomenon?

My Mister is in complete disagreement with me, but I have turned into an absolute curmudgeon over this. I find it rude.

On Halloween, since purchasing our house, we have teenagers - old teenagers (some pushing 20!) - show up at our door, no costume, nothing. Just ring the doorbell and stand there staring at us when we open the door.

The first year, two “boys” were in their early twenties! I was aghast!

80% of the time, they won’t even deign to say “trick or treat”. They just stand there looking at you as if you are supposed to magically know that you are to hand them candy because they are standing at your door on Halloween night.

I. am. sorry.

If you come to my door on Halloween night, wear a costume.

If you come to my door on Halloween night expecting candy, wear a costume.

If you come to my door on Halloween night expecting candy, you need to take the time out of your busy schedule to utter that magic phrase that communicates that desire by saying out loud to me, “Trick or Treat”.

If you come to my door on Halloween night, over the age of 14, in street clothes standing there mute and staring at me petulantly in expectation, you had damn well better hope my Mister opens the door, because if it is me there - this year, I’m closing the door.

Learn some manners.

If you are on my doorstep, asking for something from me for free, you damn well better be asking politely.

Learn some damn manners or get off my doorstep.

We love Halloween around here. I even go out of my way to buy regular sized candy bars. Not the fun sized, or even the rip off miniature sized candy bars. No way. I buy regular sized candy bars. I like being the house with good candy on Halloween.

But I expect common decency and I will not tolerate an attitude of entitlement. What you are entitled to is getting off my doorstep and taking your attitude with you.

Me handing you a candy bar on Halloween is simply not one of your constitutionally guaranteed rights. So, if you suddenly find yourself on the other side of my closed door this year, well … stand there for a minute and my Mister will probably run down and rescue you. Because I sure as hell am not going to tolerate this kind of rudeness any longer.

Phew. OK, I think my vent is over.

This just really pushes my buttons, can you tell?

The little kids that come to the door are so precious and so gracious too. They are so excited about their costumes and each one of them has always wanted to tell you exactly what they are and squeal in delight when they see that candy bar go into their bags. And the little kids in costume always always chant in unison a combined Thank You as they run to the next door. So adorable!

The big kids without costumes are surly, as if they know that they are pushing their luck. And you know, if they were being silly and getting into the spirit of things - wearing a costume and joining in on the fun, I don’t think anyone would begrudge them the fun of the moment. I certainly wouldn’t. Heck, we still dress up and have our annual party. We make our guests dress up and attend in the wildest costumes imaginable. We get into the spirit of the holiday. We answer the door on Halloween night in costume, no less.

It is the no costume, no comments, no speaking, just- hand- me- the- free- candy- you- bought- with- your- hard- earned- money- and- I’ll- walk- away- with- no- acknowledgment that I am completely over.

So, this year, I’m making a new rule.

No costume. No candy.

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OK, first we are going to ignore the fact that this is a Valentine idea. We are doing that because as I cruised the BHG site, I saw this and thought “Oh, hey, wouldn’t that be so much better for Halloween?!”

Think about it. Instead of hearts and such, have the word BOO. Or maybe easy to cut out wee ghosties? Use black or orange and purple and lime green. Something ghastly to really make it seem perfectly Halloween.

Then after cutting out just the right shape or letters (oh, what about bats? or skulls if you do that. Or even just sticking with a regular old jack o lantern face), make sure that the construction paper (or whatever paper you choose) is taped around the candle holder, and light the candle.

The cutouts should cast their wonderful eerie cutout reflections on the nearest surface, if everything goes right. And if everything doesn’t go right…well, it’s paper! Toss it away, find yourself a scary shape, print it out, draw it on the paper, cut it out and try it again.

We (the general we) are being pushed pushed pushed to buy so much every year for each holiday. Sometimes I love it. But lately I have really been getting my knickers in a knot over it all, frankly.

Yeah, I can go all out and make my home just the scariest on the block, but then I have to put it all up, keep it all clean, take it all down, find a place to store it all, and do it all again next year. With all this stuff comes all the responsibility for it, and I just don’t want that right now. I don’t need to buy more stuff to decorate and enjoy Halloween.

I’m not going to be hypocritical and say I haven’t purchased more than my fair share of Halloween decorations. Goodness knows I have plenty, which is why I don’t want any more! I just know that enough is enough.

And these days, I am all about using my resources and my creativity without taking a massive hit on the budget. Cutting shapes out of paper so that candlelight will flicker through and cast creepy shadows on the walls - yes. Good use of the creepy factor and definitely falls in the low budget line item.

It’s an inexpensive idea and one that you can sit around the table with a good friend or with your children and laugh and giggle and tell your silliest ghost stories while you make these candle decorations.

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Bad associations spoil useful habits. I was taught that from an early age. And while the people you spend time with might not necessarily fall into the category of “bad associations” in that they don’t rape, pillage small villages or murder innocent victims, what are they doing to your habits?

How much time are you spending online with your “friends” just hitting the refresh button? Have you exchanged the dramas outside the computer for the dramas in the lives of your “friends” online?

Recently I stopped and reviewed the people I spent the greatest majority of my time associating with online. I realized that for all their conservative labeling, for all their Christian arm-waving, for all their protestations, they were some of the biggest millstones I had voluntarily worn in years.

One morning I woke up early, having problems sleeping and watched the sun rise. In retrospect, I wonder if I had been prompted by a smaller voice because once I saw that sun break over the horizon, it was as if the yoke broke and realization flooded through me. “What am I doing with this group of people?” I knew I would never meet them. I didn’t spend time on the phone with them (but then again, I am not a phone person. I personally am one of those rare people that absolutely abhor wasting time on the phone. I want to do my business and hang up).

Main point of the story is that I literally, figuratively and spiritually woke up! Walking away from that group, I found that troubles that had been nipping at me lifted because I left them behind with the people that carried them. Let me repeat that in a different way: when I walked away from that group, I left behind the thousand little disputes, upsets and the internal dialogs that were prompting me to acknowledge that this group was not healthy for me.

The group that I left had elected themselves watchers. All in all, being a watchtower has the potential to be a noble profession, and we have all seen watcher groups accomplish a great amount of good in this world. Unfortunately, watchtowers swing on a delicate balance, and the move from watchtowers to persecutors is a very short step indeed. And that was the case with this group. I found that had I just listened to my internal dialogue (never ignore your intuition!), I would have recognized much earlier that the watchers had gone from watching to persecution in order to vindicate the group think and confirm for themselves that the mob mentality was right.

What I found is that I did not need to be vindicated. What was right for them was not right for me. The driving need of the group mentality was to be right at all costs, which meant that someone had to be wrong, which leaves no room for forgiveness and no room for compassion.

When I look around and see how much I have accomplished in the short time since walking away, I shake my head in wonder at how quickly we bog ourselves down. What choices are you making in your associations? Are the people you choose to spend your time with building you up? Do you walk away from your time together encouraged?

If you know that the answer is not a positive one, I encourage you to strike out.

This poem has been quoted a thousand million times, but is oh so appropriate here, so please read it slowly just this once:

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
(Robert Frost)

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On September 11th, I thought it would be appropriate to share with you one of the movies from my brain vault.

This is a hard one.

Based on Raymond Briggs’ novel (Briggs of The Snowman and Father Christmas), the movie turns immediately animated in the same style as the Snowman, and deals with everyday Jim and everyday Hilda in everyday rural England dealing with everyday….nuclear war.

Not quite as everyday as expected.

I will tell you right now, this movie is not a children’s movie. It is an animated movie showing two adults living through a nuclear bomb drop on rural England. It’s heartbreaking. I always get that horrible lump in my throat. You know the one.

Even still, I recommend you see this movie. I wish that everyone would be required to see this. It is hard, but beautiful. This movie makes my heart hurt. But then again, good movies do.

Please make time to watch this.

.

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Sometimes America does me proud. Sometimes it does not.

But every day. And in every way.

America belongs to me.

.

I am what I am and it is all that I am.

I am an American.

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In 1999. with the onset of Kattitudes, I took to the internet and started to meet a lot of people for a lot of different reasons. Paying a lot of attention to the upcoming American election, I realize how many people I have talked to online that profess to be cheerleaders for the whole Jesus train. I consider myself uniquely qualified to enjoy chatting with these people, having been raised in an apocalyptic fanatical fundamentalist neo-christian separatist proselytizing cult.

Yes. I meant to put all those words together. I know.

I know.

I would rather not know about you and your relationship with Christ, thankyouverymuch. But I particularly do not want to know about you and your forced march with the man if your march really has little to do with the walk He was supposed to have walked. And don’t quibble with me about what walk Jesus would have walked as I am plenty old enough at this point to have made my decisions about those questions. Don’t quote your scriptures or cast your aspersions. I. just. don’t bother with the details anymore. I. Just. Don’t.

I have put in my time. And I do not just mean during the weeks and twice on Sundays. I mean living all the many thousand fun and exciting childhood benefits that you can only get growing up in an apocalyptic fanatical fundamentalist neo-christian separatist proselytizing cult. Whoo doggie.

There are just a lot of things I see, in our online conversations and in the news. People freaking out over issues of religion like the end of the world was going to be here yesterday (which according to at least half the people, I am sure it was supposed to have been. See what I mean?).

Here in Atlanta, one Jesus preacher husband put the smackdown on his preacher wife and she has since inferred or said outright, I didn’t follow closely enough to tell, that it wasn’t their first smackdown. Humph. But I have been reading our local newspaper’s open comment section where rival religious factions seem to be telling each other what for. Oh my goodness.

When I was growing up, Christians were known by their actions. And I don’t just mean the love thy neighbor, blah blah blah. I mean those were the people you felt deep embarrassment (not camaraderie) if a curse word slipped out when you with them. That is not my current experience.

When I think of a Christian, I think of my Grandma. I cannot remember Gram ever voluntarily attending a single church service on her own, but she always ever so politely attended every religious event of all of her grandchildren’s lives with as much respect as possible (you already read about half her grandkids, the other half went here. Yeah. Another whoo doggie.). That wasn’t what made my Grandma a true Christian to me.

Every day, she got up, got her children ready for school, her husband ready to run his own business out of their home, left for her 40 hour a week job in downtown Seattle, came home, took care of her children, fed her family, did the books and paperwork and office work every night for the employees of her husband’s business, prepared her home for the next work day, went to bed and got up and did it again. That wasn’t what made Grandma a true Christian.

What made my Grandma a Christian is that every night of my life after she finished cooking, for the all the years that he was alive, she sent over a plate of dinner for the widowed next door neighbor gentleman so that he would never go hungry.

I don’t even know how that tradition started, but it was long before I made the scene. I just know that it was as constant as the moon, as steady as the tide, as much a part of my vacations at Grandma’s as sleeping in the iron beds in her attic.

So, thinking on my childhood and on my Grandma, I know that there are basic values that can guide so much of what we do in life.

Based on my recent experiences online:

If you are a Jesus fan, please do not call out another Jesus fan for not following your private Jesus fan club rules and regulations closely enough. Mean. There is no need to be mean.

If you are a Jesus fan, do your conversations with other people always seem to degenerate into the re-ascension of anyone to the cross? How often do you hear things regress to “you attacked my belief in Jesus, how dare you? Because my belief in Jesus is my entire life. I don’t just visit church, I live my faith every day”. Stop and hear that question without your indignation.

Someone is questioning your belief in Jesus. Now is the time for action, not reaction. I was taught that “an answer, when mild, turns away rage”. I see people interested in scoring a point against their debate contestant, sometimes at any cost. Where did this bloodlust come from? I just left an online community that never offered a kind word when an insult would do.

If you find yourself in a receiving position of that bloodlust conversation, go with Eleanor Roosevelt, always a popular quote on online forums, who told us that “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. As hard as it is, sometimes it is best to turn the other cheek, even if that cheek happens to be on your tush as it walks out the door. After the ‘07 Summer of Sin (it is a tongue in cheek name for what happened in young Hollywood in the past few months, but I am going to stick with it), raising the bar (and my standard) doesn’t seem like such a negative concept any longer.

But back to the bloodlust arguments - I have seen (in more than one online discussion arena) this bloodlust referred to as honesty, as if giving it a benign name might gloss over the blood letting it has become. It masquerades as compassion, as if we have “love for one another” by ripping each other down in public.

No. Honesty is supporting people with honesty, not sarcasm. Honesty can be brutal if necessary, but brutal honesty calls for compassion. Sure you can do it without, but why? If you are really interested in building someone up with honesty, you can tell them what improvements you have for them between you. and them. Not you and the viewing public. That’s compassion. You and the viewing public? That’s called readership, and it’s fine too, but call it what it is. It is not friends and it is not family.

There are two ways to communicate with people; you can build them up or you can tear them down. And they remember.

I keep wondering what has happened to the value on kindness and adherence to common sayings like “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”.

And while I recently chose the “not having anything nice to say” path to finish a conversation, I kept thinking about why I made that choice. I was told that the concept of questioning someone’s religious dedication was akin to attacking their children. I still think that statement is probably worth having to hold my tongue.

Adults choose their religion. Children are born into their families and their religions. Adults choose their behaviors. Children are taught by example. We do not look to children to exemplify Christian living, as they are forming their behaviors and their values and they are usually parroting what they see and hear at home. Adults choose their religion and their behaviors, children have them chosen for them.

If one person can say, “I thought she was a Christian”, it should drive you to action. There is no such thing as a minor lapse of integrity.

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Yeah, for a few years. This was our tube station. It was when Kattitudes went dark (long predating the kattitudes blog era). Things outside the computer were, obviously, extremely busy, as I was determined to get the absolutely most out of living overseas. I wandered the streets of that town like one of the lost, literally. It was indescribable, even for a part time word smith.

After London, we moved to Germany. Also wonderful. And even more unique for me, in that I did not speak German beyond my secondary education first year German class. Fortunately the Germans were such a lovely people, and usually wanted to practice their American English so much that I was never at a loss for conversation partners, wherever I went. I learned enough to muddle through some crazy conversations (with lots of appropriate arm waving), but never enough to carry on long term conversations.

London, however, captured my heart in a way no other city will ever manage again (I know I am only echoing the sentiments of so many other travelers). I have just been thinking a lot about the fair city lately as the Mister and I are starting to discuss our South and the cultural footprint here.

We are both Southerners. Born elsewhere, we were both transplanted to different southern states at a young age, basing our childhood cultural references in the American southern cultural melting pot. So this is our home. We both moved from, and came back for more.

But our South is not providing what we need it to provide. Our South is very automotive based. If you don’t have a car in Atlanta Georgia, you are just plain ol’ out of luck. People do not walk here. A geographical based village concept around where we are seems unknown (unless you luck upon one of the smaller towns still available off the beaten track in Georgia). We have strip malls and fenced enclaves and gated subdivisions and mega places and warehouses. We drive there and we drive back.

And in our South, your cultural touchstone is your church. It is your social group, where you meet to organize events and casual dinner dates. We find that not every regular attendee of church events is a hard fast Christian soldier, but they are savvy enough to figure out that church is where you go to move and shake down this way. Church is the Chamber of Commerce and the corner market of the American south.

What we miss is our villages of London. We miss a well organized and well patronized mass transit system. And we miss places where you can sit down in a chair on the sidewalk at the pub for a drink after work and chat with your neighbors. Or meet new neighbors as the case may be. We miss finding new friends in odd places. We miss being able to carry a backpack and finish all our days errands (grocery shopping, laundry, pets, gifts and more all) on the way too and from work. Without ever having to get in and out of the car once. We are looking for a new home, preferably in America this time around (for ease of employment visa issues) where neighborhoods still exists. Not suburbs, or track homes or single family homes. We want density and camaraderie. And art walks. With interesting museums. And open cathedrals available 24 hours a day.

And we want to do it on an average American salary.

There’s the rub.

We are in a scary place in America. We are working toward a presidential election, and we are a culture that likes to talk in black and white and all or nones. We pander to flash (not to say that there isn’t sometimes a reason and a need, don’t get me wrong). So we are working towards an election and we are going to start hearing more and more about how the sky is falling.

That wouldn’t be so bad, but America is also a nation stocked up on medication addressing issues of anxiety and depression.

So what does “the sky is falling” message have to do with us? Before long, whether it affects you personally or not, you are going to hear a lot of stories in the America media about how poor poor poor people are now.

What you make is what you get, and we need to live with what we get. And we feel a need to renew our appreciation for what we have. Between the autumn season deep housecleaning frenzy and working on our Family Organizational Notebooks, there is more *stuff* in this house than needed in this house. So we are also going to start working actively on reduction as part of our reduce/reuse/recycle kick. I’m not going to call it clutter (even though it is) because it is a part of your life, but there is just too much. It is time to just reduce everything for a while until things do not seem so….overgenerous.

Our skills come in when we focus on how much money we can save by making things ourselves. And when we concentrate on taking pride in a job done to the best of our personal ability. And in doing a job for ourselves that we might have once outsourced. And when we make something with our own two hands and the sweat of our brow.

There is a lot to be said for the benefits of what seems to come across as “old fashioned” hard work or sweat equity. There is a phrase we would like to see a lot more in the American media lately, and not coupled with words like “quaint notion of” or “avoid any suggestion of”. Sweat equity. Elbow grease. Grab a broom. Roll up your sleeves. .

What you make with your hands is valuable. Your gift is literally in the making of your present. The feelings in your heart and the fond thoughts you have about your friends are sometimes all the magic that holds together a shaky stitch or loose bead. However, if your friend smiles every time they touch your gift to put it on, use it, taste it, wear it, smell it, hold it and love it, how much more rich will you be for the making?

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