Giving Thanks

"The Harvest" by Robert Zund

For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the workingman's hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea unto sea;
The land that is known as the "Land of the Free" --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
~Author Unknown 

betsey:jane will be back on Wednesday, December 1. In the meantime, we both wish you the warmest and happiest of Thanksgivings. Blessings!

Do You See What I See?

betsey: Jane, are you seeing what I’m seeing? City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style . . . Snow in Minneapolis and your beloved Colorado. Freezing here in our village. The pumpkins on our front porch are bravely holding their own, but pretty soon, like after Thanksgiving, they’ll be left to the squirrels and our wreaths and such will go up.

jane: I'm seeing it, but I'm not liking it. Heck, there's still a week to go before Thanksgiving! Give me more time to enjoy my gourds, my mums, my turkey trinkets, my autumn-colored candles – at least through November!

Give me more time to enjoy my gourds, my mums, my autumn-colored candles!

However, I have a different feeling about Christmas music entirely. I can listen to it all year round. I'm already firing up the Christmas CDs and can't wait till our local college radio station, WETN, starts playing Christmas music 24/7 from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day.

 

betsey: I know, isn’t that nice? I grew up with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Mitch Miller and an audio version of A Christmas Carol playing all season – in fact, I learned Christmas carols that way. Last year we got this weird-but-interesting CD by Sting with old Christmas songs and generally winter-themed music . . . very cool in the bleak midwinter. 

Oh, I love Christmas stuff and probably spend too much on things I only look at once a year. My Plow & Hearth catalog came (do you get that? They have nice stuff) and I have my eye on some of their centerpieces. And wreaths. And hearth rugs. And lit doorway garlands . . . Christmas tends to bring out my latent Martha Stewart.
 

jane: Yes, I'm starting to get inundated with catalogs (including Plow & Hearth) too. But I don't pore over them as I used to. I already have too much Christmas stuff; each year I find myself scaling down instead of piling on. In our smallish house, I'm less tolerant of clutter, even of the cheery Christmas variety. I have a few simple, cherished items I always put up: my lighted Bethlehem village, a special crèche, my Christmas wreaths, my Norwegian candleholders with their decorative rosemaling, the needlepoint stockings I made for our daughters (I even have stockings for our dogs). However, all this self-proclaimed selectivity probably will fly out the window the first Christmas we host with our granddaughter! I suspect having a grandchild in our home will change EVERYTHING about decorating for Christmas. I'll be pulling out stuff I haven't put up in years, stuff I'll look at this year and put back in the box.

betsey: You’re right – the “tacky factor” grows exponentially with young children. Plastic will return to your décor! Maybe even pink and purple!

jane: I don't know if I'll go that far . . . 

 

betsey: The question: When do you decorate?

jane: Betsey, I'm adamant about waiting until after Thanksgiving to begin decorating for Christmas. 

We have never set up a Christmas tree for Thanksgiving. I want to give Thanksgiving its due. 

We have never set up a Christmas tree for Thanksgiving, as many of my friends do. I want to give Thanksgiving its due. So usually the weekend after Thanksgiving weekend, I'll politely ask Rich to haul all the green-colored bins and the fake tree out of our crawlspace, and then the fun (aka work) begins. 

 

betsey: And when do you (Rich) put up your outdoor lights?

jane: You got that right, Betsey! Rich is the one who manages our outdoor lighting. But it varies from year to year, depending on the weather, travel plans, and how the spirit moves. Some holidays we might not even put up lights. One year we didn't even put up a tree. I have to admit, that felt strange, but we were gone for the holidays, so it just didn't make sense to go to all the effort to decorate it with no one home to enjoy it. 

 

betsey: Guess what? I recently saw a house a few streets away that was blazing with lights. Before Veterans’ Day! 

 

jane: That's just not right.

betsey: We generally do ours not Thanksgiving weekend but, like you, the weekend after. It’s amazing the unspoken peer pressure on this: you want to do your lights when the neighbors do, not a minute before and certainly not after. (My own informal rule of thumb: Lights MUST be extinguished by Martin Luther King’s birthday.)

jane: Yeah, there's nothing worse than seeing Christmas lights – and, I might add, dead wreaths – on houses after Valentine's Day. And I HAVE seen that in my own neighborhood.

betsey: And the last question: do you put up your tree when you do the rest of your decorating? 

Every year I vow to go artificial . . . but something deep within me cries out, Don't give in!

We don’t . . . it’s just too much. Also, we buy real trees. Every year when we’re wrangling the thing into the stand, and Fritz has to guy it with rope because it’s listing, I vow to go artificial . . . but something deep within me cries out, Don’t give in!

 

jane: I used to feel that way, Betsey. I was a live tree purist who would look askance at those sell-outs who went artificial! Our family always cut down our Christmas trees (fake in the '50s and '60s was kind of scary; I remember my grandma had this blue metallic flocked tree – yikes!) So when Rich and I married and started our family, we followed suit. I tried to replicate my wonderful childhood memories of taking a sleigh ride out to the cutting fields, picking out the perfect tree, then sipping hot chocolate as my dad strapped our fragrant pine onto the roof of our sedan. 

 

However, a few years into valiantly emulating this tradition, Rich and I experienced a very Clark Griswoldian, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation scenario: Our daughters spent the whole time trudging through the Christmas tree field complaining of freezing and begging to go home. We had an epiphany: It was time to start buying our Christmas tree from a tree lot five minutes from home!

That lasted for several years. But then one day, a cute little artificial tree on sale at Target just spoke to me. Our kids were in college, our vacuum cleaner couldn't handle the constant choking on spent needles (I'd find them in the strangest places, too!), and I got tired of worrying about the tree becoming a fire hazard. I bought that cutie and brought her home, and I've never looked back. 

 

betsey: Yep, I know more and more people who are opting for artificial. At least we don’t go far for our fir – a lot just minutes away. Time was when we did the back-to-nature, “cut down the tree” thing too . . . it was always muddy and the saw was always kind of dull and one year Fritz, after hours of manfully sawing away, started to feel somewhat unwell. And Amanda, six or seven at this time, would crouch at my feet in the front of our tiny hatchback to make room for O Tannenbaum.

But I wonder . . . does having an artificial tree stop the lights fights once and for all? If so . . . Target, here I come!

Don't Fight the Night

jane: Well, it's started. Hibernation Season is officially here. I have to laugh because Daylight Savings Time has been the target of some grumblings from my Facebook crowd. One friend mentioned how it's dark so early, she doesn't want to leave her house. Another commented that during autumn and winter she hibernates like the bears, but unfortunately, unlike them, does NOT emerge thinner in the spring. When I read that, first I laughed out loud and then I winced, because I totally relate. 

This is the season of couch potato-ism, time to crave hearty, carb-filled foods - stews and soups and breads with butter.

And lots of calorie-laden casseroles and pastas, because we're fortifying ourselves for the long, cold winter!

betsey: That’s funny – I made a chicken stew last night (okay, not great). Must be the same impulse. Since I work all day, I’m going to be getting home in the dark, which I can’t stand (although it’s light now in the morning, which is nice). I’ll have to force myself to get out at lunch and walk in the daylight. We’ve started taking vitamin D because everything you read says that we in Northern climes do not get enough of it. I don’t think I have SAD, but I do need to force myself to be active.

jane: Actually, I wonder if I do have a mild form of SAD (seasonal affective disorder). Now that we've set our clocks back an hour and sunset is 4:30ish, I feel as though I'm ready to go to bed by seven. In fact, last Sunday, despite the gift of that extra hour of sleep, Rich and I ate an early supper of green chicken chili with cornbread by candlelight (to up the cozy factor).

Then, when we plopped down in our recliners to watch The Simpsons, Rich promptly nodded off. It was only 6:03 p.m.!

Of course, he got his second wind about an hour later, but when we headed up to bed to read, we were out like lights around nine. We're such old fogies.

betsey: It’s interesting to think about the ancients, like your and my Norse, Celtic and Saxon forebears – they lived in a very dark world half the year, and really, it was that way until the eighteenth century when candles were much better and certainly the nineteenth when gas light came in and streets and homes were brighter!

jane: I must not have inherited the Norwegian gene that helps you thrive during dreary, dark winter nights. Oh, and the one that makes you crave lutefiske and pickled herring – those genes must have skipped a generation or two.

A few Novembers ago, I decided to ward off the early dark by setting up our Christmas window candles well before Thanksgiving and turning them on as soon as night fell. From the outside, our home looked very colonial, very warm and inviting. But inside an unattractive tangle of extension cords sprouted from every front-facing window. Eventually I got tired of the cords and the clutter and gave up on it, but I did miss that glow. It really lifted the gloom.

betsey: We were talking just last night about our Christmas lighting. I’ve decided our usual way of holiday illumination is tacky and too eclectic, so I’m thinking about having our big burning bush done all in blues. 

jane: That would look lovely with your blue house!

betsey: I LOVE blue Christmas lights. And those colored balls that look like they’re floating in the dark, kind of mysterious and magical.

jane: I can't even contemplate dragging the boxes and bins filled with Christmas stuff out of our crawl space yet . . . 

 

You know, when my kids were young, I don't remember being as bothered by long dark evenings as I am now. Winter nights were illuminated by the warmth of bustling family activities - homework and bath time and story-reading and telephone calls and surprise school projects and extra laundry loads. You know, just the daily stuff of life. Now with the empty nest, it's just Rich and me, the dogs, and a very quiet house.

Because there's very little on the TV that Rich and I both enjoy watching, lately

I'll light some candles and put on a CD we haven't listened to in quite a while – a little Bach or a little Miles Davis.

Last night we played some great jazz from Tommy Flanagan, whom we heard play at the famous Village Vanguard in Manhattan several years ago. That helped make the dark hours leading up to bedtime richer, more textured.

betsey: I love your idea about CDs. I grew up listening to Broadway original-cast albums and singing along - I still know all the words to some really obscure songs from the likes of Gypsy. Fritz and I were just talking the other day about getting some of these on CD. Singing along is great for warding off the blahs.

jane: Fun idea! I loved musicals when I was a kid, too: Kiss Me Kate (“We open in Venice, we next play Verona, then on to Pomona . . . ") and Camelot, all those grand, wonderful productions. I just can't imagine Rich getting into singing those show tunes - NO way.

betsey: I think we need to make friends with the night. Where we live we can really see the stars; streetlights don't get in the way.

And the winter constellations - Orion, the Pleiades, Cassiopeia - are magnificent.

So I'm looking forward to welcoming them back. 

jane: Betsey, do you remember me telling you about the telescope my parents gave us because they no longer used it? It's sitting by our upstairs loft window, pointed at our backyard (our neighbors probably think we're spying on them!). It's an expensive instrument with daunting instructions, so we haven't learned how to use it yet. But once Rich orients it to the North Star, we should be able to take it onto the deck on a clear night and stargaze. You and Fritz will need to come over to gawk at the night sky with us some evening - now that could be a really fun winter activity.

I love what you said about making friends with the night.

Instead of bemoaning this season, I need to be celebrating its invitation

to savor the glow of candlelight, to sip hot chocolate, to feel wonder at the stars, to plow through my pile of must-read books patiently awaiting my attention. This time of year provides more opportunities to daydream and plan and pray, even to pay more attention to those circadian rhythms we can so easily ignore.

Speaking of which, I just noticed it's 6:03 p.m. Time to snuff out the candles, brush my teeth, sing a little "Let Me Entertain You," and head for bed!

Leonardo DiCaprio, Jack Bauer, and . . . E.T.?

betsey: Jane, I know you and Rich saw Inception, Leonardo DiCaprio’s big summer hit, over the weekend. What did you think of it? I wasn’t really interested, although I know a lot of people liked it. To me it sounded kind of weird and confusing.

jane: Inception was weird and confusing - and thought-provoking. The time in the theater flew by, at the end we couldn't figure out if DiCaprio's character was still in a dream, and I kept pondering the movie all the next day – signs the film made an impact.

Oh, and Rich stayed awake through it, another barometer of its success.

(We have one friend who told Rich recently, “My husband likes to brag that he's seen the beginning of hundreds of movies!”) So it was worth the $3.50 we shelled out to see it.

betsey: I really do like a lot of what DiCaprio has done over the years. Titanic was on a few Saturday nights ago, and of course I got caught up in the drama, even though I know how it turns out . . . 

 

jane: Ha! I'll never forget when we saw Titanic in the theater. It was probably for my birthday, because I doubt Rich would have wanted to go to this one unless I was exercising “birthday clout.” Anyway, as the opening credits rolled, he turned to me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and said, “Why do I need to see this? I already know how it ends.” Sigh. He was joking, of course . . . kind of.

betsey: I think Titanic is simply riveting and unashamedly “Hollywood” in the grand romantic tradition.

I love “movie movies” that play on a big, sweeping canvas.

By contrast, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape is another of my favorites, but it’s a quiet, small-canvas story of a young man (Johnny Depp, who I think is hot) growing up aimlessly in a nowhere Iowa town. Leo plays his developmentally disabled younger brother in an amazing performance. Catch Me If You Can: very underrated, a departure for Spielberg. Love the circa-1965 “mod” look. And I’ve seen parts, not all, of Gangs of New York, with Daniel Day-Lewis – again, it’s one of those larger-than-life, epic films. Very violent, but Scorsese’s re-creation of mid-1800s New York is masterful. You can tell it’s a set, but somehow that gives it the feel of a tragic play unfolding.

What have you seen recently, either in the theater or otherwise, that you would recommend? What are some of your all-time favorites? (I know this is a really hard question.)

jane: Wow. That is a hard one, Betsey. I always have amnesia when it comes to remembering what I've seen lately. I do know my most recent rentals were Babette's Feast, which was wonderful, and Shutter Island, again with DiCaprio; this film also had an ambiguous ending that kept me guessing. But the movies we've seen lately were simply about pure escapism, such as Salt with Angelina Jolie. While we're not big Angelina fans,  we like action films and we needed a Jack Bauer/24-type fix. Sometimes I'll rent a chick flick while Rich is out of town or watch a movie on hulu.com. Rich is picky; there are very few movies he wants to go see or even rent, so I have to sort of twist his arm. He thinks of Hollywood as “Hollyweird” and accuses it of being too formulaic. And sometimes he's right!

But back to favorites . . . I LOVE Dumb and Dumber; I've watched it a gazillion times and it always makes me laugh out loud. See how highbrow I am? Oh, and

I can watch movies like Forrest Gump and Cinderella Man and The Shawshank Redemption over and over and still find something in them that moves me.

The truth is, my tastes are very eclectic – I love British period dramas, quirky indie films, action films, sci-fi/fantasy, and sweeping epics, if they're well done.

betsey: It’s really interesting to think about what makes a movie compelling for you. Or what makes something offensive. I do think I look for that very cinematic, larger-than-life “movie magic” quality. E.T. does it for me every time. Braveheart and Gladiator – I’m a sucker for doomed, noble heroes. 

 

jane: Russell Crowe - YES! Braveheart and Gladiator are two of my favorite films. And, of course, The Passion of the Christ. But E.T.? No offense, Betsey, but I found it cheesy – and still do, just like I did Richard Dreyfuss and his mountain of mashed potatoes in Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I still remember when Rich and I went to the drive-in to see E.T. and brought along Sarah, who was just learning to talk.

She saw the E.T. character on the screen, stood up in the back seat, pointed at the screen, and shouted out, “E.T. a monkey!”

Out of the mouth of babes . . . 

 

betsey: I really detest “rom-coms” and movies that are supposed to appeal to women. People raved about Julie and Julia but I had no interest. 

jane: Oops . . . I enjoyed it. Watched it with Bible study friends; it made me want to eat.

betsey: On the other hand, give me an inspirational sports movie, clichés
and all, and I’m there every time. I kind of want to see Secretariat, even though it’s gotten mixed reviews. That may be a “rent it,” as they say.

jane: Well, I love using our DVR to record films from cable channel Turner Classic Movies. It's a wonderful way to discover and rediscover some great classics. For instance, not long ago I watched To Kill a Mockingbird, The Red Shoes, and ’70s cult favorite Harold and Maude. And on Halloween I viewed Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?

 

betsey: What was the first movie you ever saw?

jane: The Wizard of Oz. 

betsey: For me it was The King and I. 

 

jane: Oh, after I watched that on television as a child, I sobbed in bed for hours about how the king had died. I was inconsolable!

betsey: But probably the two films that had the biggest impact on me were Ben-Hur – I truly feel that gave me a yearning for Jesus – and West Side Story, which seemed the ultimate in cool in 1962 but now when you see it looks kind of dated. I did know kids who weren’t allowed to see movies – even Disney – and I felt sorry for them.

jane: Even though my parents were conservative, for some reason they weren't too strict about music and movies. I remember our family went to see Pit and the Pendulum starring Vincent Price. As a teen, I saw films such as Romeo and Juliet (which was a bit scandalous because it contained a discreet “butt” shot of Romeo), 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Ah, Robert Redford, back in the day! In the early ’70s, Wheaton College's student union showed Butch Cassidy, but because the movie celebrated anti-heroes, the college felt it had to hold a discussion of the film for us afterward. How the times have changed.

There are a handful of movies I regret having seen – today I'm more careful about what I view. I typically check out ChristianityToday.com reviews first because I respect their perspective. 

When you think of it, God is the ultimate Storyteller. And

the Bible includes stories of passion and intrigue and violence and adventure – along with the story of his grace and redemption.

In the end, I think my favorite films are ones that use strong visuals and intriguing characters to weave a good story that contains a redemptive theme. 

 

betsey: I am definitely more careful than I used to be – it’s so easy to be a media-and-entertainment junkie in our culture. 

 

jane: And in our industry . . .

betsey: Let’s keep talking about that! Meanwhile, Jane, my new mission is to convince you of the greatness of E.T. But for now, as Ebert and Roeper used to say, the balcony is closed!