Christmas Past

1967. My first Christmas.

Mom & Dad had just moved in to to a new duplex. A new baby, boxes to unpack, a (jealous)toddler named Carla, a new job for Dad. Working long hours.

Merry Christmas to you, mom.

I'm sure it was merry.1968. 4 year old big sister looks psyched. She obviously knows something I don't know. Like Santa's on his way in less than 12 hours. what she doesn't know is another little sister is on her way too. In 9 short months. Must have been a "festive" holiday season for mom & dad.

That flocked tree with blue ornaments. Cool. The blue tinsel. Even cooler.

Only 1 year apart and inseparable, Annie & I got mistaken for twins. All the time.

Here we are at the Fashion Place mall visiting Santa. Santa with an outrageous amount of hair.

Not sure where Carla was. Probably in the Spencer store with her way cool friends looking at the inappropriate joke section.

Oh. How I loved this Christmas. I was 7 years old, wearing curlers and so excited.

This was my new blue bike. Banana seat and all. (not pictured) I also got those great plaid pants. Pairing them up with that vest combo was a daring choice. The closest thing to pink I have ever seen me in during my tomboyish childhood. (weird that I would wear curlers, though. Choosing battles was a daily struggle)

Here I sit in front of my aunt Aftons Christmas tree with my cousin Steve.

My aunt Afton.

Think Martha Stewart as a conservative Protestant 3rd grade school teacher and there you go. She had us out for Christmas Day ever year for my whole childhood. And then some. Good times playing in the basement with cousins, drinkin Pop Shoppe sodas, eating her famous spread of food complete with macaroni salad, clam dip, sandwiches & cookies & pies.

Seems like I was front toothless for a long time. Could be that I got them knocked out prematurely in a freak accident at the neighbors involving a baseball, an aluminum bat, and an overzealous 6 year old that liked to play baseball.

Let me just say that it's not too nice to call your neighbors freaks, but well, I say it like it is, sometimes.

Another year, another Santa, another twinner-like photo with my lil' sis.

Where is big sis? Don't know.

Wish my mom was here to ask.

She had an amazing memory for detail. (that's sarcasm)

She did have an amazing measure of patience for us girls who constantly put on shows of dance, gymnastics and plays. She was our director & wardrobe specialist of the nativity scene play we did each year and filled the house with beautiful Christmas music every year.

She was the one who introduced me to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

On 8 track.

3 girls and a very spoiled dog, posing before bed on the night before Christmas wearing our new pajamas we just opened.

PJ's for Christmas Eve. Long standing tradition for our family. One that continues for my own.

I thought it was so original and great until I went to a Relief Society thing 18 years ago to share "traditions" and every other person had the same tradition.

Still great, not so original.

Notice, mine is blue.

Notice, macrame owl on wall. Classic. And handmade by my talented and never-idle dad.

Notice, snowman & snowwoman aforementioned in previous blog entry about Christmas Decor.

2 words. Tin. Sel.

This trip down memory lane was so fun for me. Our Christmases were magical, made possible by two very loving parents who pulled out all the stops for us.

It takes alot of effort to make things happen for Christmas and I appreciate the efforts by my mom and dad more and more each year.

The long lines, the financial strain, the late nights wrapping, planning, outings, bikes to put together, impossible presents asked for like hamsters, cotton candy machines, trampolines & solid gold t-shirts (in blue, of course) worn by a fifth grader who thought she was very cool.

Christmases hold such value to me because of the legacy my parents left.

Merry Christmas past!