My wish for you at Christmas

I hope you are finding magic, warmth, and joy in this holiday season, and I hope the magic continues for many more days.

Our ornaments, like our holidays, mix old traditions and new experiences. For example, this very old green glass ornament comes from Peter's parents' tree. My mom embroidered the yellow bird shortly before she died about 30 years ago. A music-loving snowman purchased only a couple of years ago celebrates our delight in music, the heart came from a good friend, and the jester is a memento of a stay in a favorite city, New Orleans.

Over the years, my husband has greatly expanded my understanding of what a family Christmas can be. He spends enormous effort finding just the right gifts, and then wrapping and presenting them in ways designed to surprise and delight. We also developed many family rites and traditions, mostly focused on daughter Abby.

Now Abby and Eric are creating traditions for their children, centered in their own home. Instead of packing up the kids to come here or trek to Montana, they arranged Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at home, and we spent part of each with them. Everything was relaxed, flexible, responsive to toddler needs, and designed for maximum delight.

I played with Augie's expanded train set, read to both kids, and crawled under the bunk bed while we played bone-digging archaeologist. I wore my new pink crown, chosen by Augie and Vi who have dubbed me "Glinda" in their ongoing Wizard of Oz fantasy.

Speaking of which, Peter and I made these ornaments (from a kit) and used them as gift tags. Vi handed out the gifts based on the characters she has assigned. When Augie got his Scarecrow gift, he laughed with excitement. "Mom, mom, look! I got a present and it has ME on top!"

I hope that you will giggle with joy and delight during this holiday season and through the new year.

If my pill box says "T" it must be Tuesday

When I was working, I always knew what day it was. Even during vacations, I retained a sense of time. Now that I'm retired (for a whole 11 days), my days are a daze.

We've had two snow storms that threw off everyone's schedules. And Abby and Eric have two weeks off from school, so the grandkids are home with them. I found myself checking the weather for Tuesday and Thursday, when I've been driving Augie to preschool, and then realizing that I won't be doing that again until January.

Here are a few other things I've noticed about my new life phase.

1. I figured I'd have lots of time to do Christmas stuff--bake cookies, decorate the house, write cards, etc. I have trimmed the tree--always a major undertaking. But we decided to simplify the decorating of the house, and I don't feel motivated to bake. The cards are definitely on my to-do-soon list. Along with gift-wrapping.

2. I'm now responsible for making dinner. I know how to sit down and come up with a concept for a brochure, but it's been years since I planned a meal. I need to read some cookbooks to kickstart that part of my brain, then make some choices and make up a grocery list. (I've seen a couple of nice recipes online that got me interested, so that's a place to start.)

3. I have some groovy new toys:

• Peter's company bought a couple of iPads, and since he doesn't use his all the time, I get to borrow it. Wow... I never thought I'd want one until I sat down with it. I love it. It will definitely be the subject of a future post. 
• He bought me a new camera for Christmas. It's a Canon super-zoom, a compact camera with a powerful lens so I can take better photos of the birds in the backyard. I just had to open it early, because we had a yard full of birds. Then we got a ton of snow, which dramatically shortened the distance between the ground and the bird feeder. The squirrels realized they could jump right up, and they sent out the word to half the squirrels in the city. The birds disappeared until yesterday, when we raised the level of the feeder. So I'm back in business. Another subject for future posts! 
• Tap shoes! We found a great source of used shoes for the kids, and they love them. I ordered some for me, fearing that I'd never find a comfortable pair for my long narrow feet. They came yesterday, and I LOVE THEM. I still need to find a DVD or online source of tap lessons. I was searching a couple of weeks ago when zombies attacked my computer.

4. I'm spending a LOT of time doing paperwork to arrange health care coverage for Peter and me. Q: How many times do I need to submit the same information to different units of the same company? A. Four doesn't seem to be enough. Maybe five will do it.

5. I'm also spending tons of time changing my email address contact information for dozens of accounts. Yes, I should have used a personal account instead of my work account from the beginning. But I didn't. And yes, I should have started switching a couple of years ago. But I didn't. I was able to keep my work account for the next several months (because it provides access to information I may need in order to do some freelance work or just help my former colleagues figure things out). But I quickly realized that I don't want to spend a lot of time on that account, because it draws me back into the work world.

6. I need to reorganize all my spaces. Starting with my office. I have places for my fabric projects and my photo projects, and a lot of old papers from work and the carousel and whatnot. But I have a huge collection of electronic stuff--cameras, iPod, the iPad, a digital voice recorder, etc., and accompanying cables, batteries, manuals, cleaning materials, carrying cases, etc, mostly living on a messy shelf and in a box in the office closet, under a bunch of kids' toys. Not to mention that my bedroom closet is full of work clothes I won't wear again. That's a project for summer.

That's it for today. I have to go make some phone calls about health coverage. Wish me luck.

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Time marches on.....

I was privileged to be part of the life of Macalester College for 28 years as publications manager, writer, and editor. At my retirement party Wednesday, our current president told the guests that in many ways I've been Macalester's voice for all that time. That's high praise, because it's been a period of fairly remarkable achievement for the college. He and others said very nice things about my work. (When one of the higher-ups said some really nice and perceptive things, it flitted across my mind that a couple of years ago he wasn't nearly so generous in his assessment. But we've worked together well since then. In this moment, it sounded like he was the head of my fan club, and I chose to believe that he meant it.

When it was my turn to speak, I said that when you've worked on admissions materials for that long, you can't help taking pride in the students who enroll. When you've worked on three fund-raising campaigns, you look around at the new buildings, programs, and scholarship funds and think, "I helped make that happen."

For every student who chooses to enroll, and for every donor who makes a significant gift, hundreds of people have worked in thousands of ways to make it happen--not just to reach out to that individual but to create an institution worthy of their choice. That fact doesn't diminish the satisfaction we feel. It's shared work, and shared satisfaction. (When I said that, a lot of people were nodding and smiling in agreement.)

I went on to say that just as I've been part of the Macalester family, Mac has been part of my family, affecting three generations. While representing Macalester at a meeting in April 1985, I met the man I soon married. He continues to work for the college as a vendor and has participated with me in many college events. A generous tuition assistance program among a consortium of colleges enabled our daughter to attend a wonderful college where on her first day she met the young man she would marry 11 years later. And my bosses' willingness to let me work reduced and flexible schedules in order to provide daycare for the grandkids has benefited them, their parents, and us.

A colleague spoke up and thanked me for hiring her. That reminded me to make one more point: I think part of my legacy is the good people I hired over the years, including six who continue to work there. (I also served on advisory committees that played roles in hiring three others, including the president.) Finally, I reminded everyone that I live just three miles away and expect to stay in touch. (I know, everyone says it. But I will, with some of them.) I think I ended with something funny that got a good laugh, but I can't remember what it was.

There were gifts (a fancy international desk clock, some things to enjoy with the grandkids, a stash of chocolate, a bottle of  lemoncello, and a lifetime supply of purple pens), and a book in which my colleagues had pasted messages from many people, and in which party guests wrote greetings of their own.

Several times during the party, I felt a little wave of relief and joy. "I'm done; I can relax now." I totally enjoyed talking with all the folks who came. Some were very special to me, including a former Macalester president and vice president, and one of our major donors. The grandkids behaved charmingly, and every time I was asked "What will you do now?" I could point to them. The Alumni House was decorated beautifully for the holidays, and the food looked elegant, though I didn't get around to eating any until the last few minutes. Eventually we packed up the gifts and cards and drove home, where I blogged about how tired and happy I was.

Thursday morning while reading the book of messages, I had my one twinge of nostalgia..It was gone in a flash.

Thursday afternoon I drove Augie to preschool and then showed up at the office at 1:15, as usual this past few months. I told everyone how much I had loved the party--every minute of it--and how good it made me feel. I participated in a couple of meetings to hand off continuing projects. I told my two bosses how glad I was to have worked with them the last couple of years, after some bad years with a previous boss, and they returned the compliment. I walked across campus to turn in my keys and trade a staff ID for a retired staff ID. Then I tossed my remaining possessions into a large box, took a big framed poster off the wall, and put on my coat. Several co-workers gathered around to say goodbye. I'd been nervous about this moment, but it was smiles and hugs all around and then two colleagues carried my stuff down to the front door. One last hug for the guy who helped me load things into my car, and I was behind the wheel.

I was smiling as I pulled away from the curb and noted that it was exactly 5 p.m. No twinges of sadness, no emotional welling up. Just immense satisfaction.

Peter and I went to dinner at Olive Garden so I could celebrate in the happy glow generated by my favorite cocktail, their strawberry lemoncello martini. He said, "I hope your retirement is everything you've hoped for."

I said, "It's here, and for now that's all I need!"

It's almost official...

My retirement party was this afternoon. I enjoyed every minute, and tonight I'm tired and happy. It's that old introvert thing... talking to people for several hours leaves me exhausted. But my colleagues put together a lovely event. Lots of people came and said gracious things, the program was short and heartfelt, there were some nice gifts and some funny ones, I managed my remarks just fine, and the grandkids looked adorable and acted like angels.

Also, it hit me about halfway through the party: I'm essentially done! Tomorrow I'll pack up a box or two of stuff, say goodbye to my closest co-workers, and turn in my keys.Wow. I'll be back here to tell you lots more, but right now I need sleep. Cheers.