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Finding Joy in the Little Things

Born in Virginia but having moved to Florida when I was three, I didn’t know what true seasons were. There was little changing of the foliage and there certainly wasn’t any snow, and I was okay with that. Simply because I didn’t know life any differently.

As Christmas approached and I’d see wintry landscapes and a white Christmas on TV shows, it always seemed special. And I think part of me always felt like, even though I hadn’t experienced a snowy holiday, I was missing out. Like Christmas wasn’t Christmas without snow. (The thoughts of a young girl.) So when my parents told us we were taking our first road trip from Florida back to Virginia and Ohio to visit family, I was thrilled!

First, just the prospect of riding and eating in the car, seeing new sights, and even staying in a motel was so different and exciting. (This was in the late 70s, early 80s) Second, the fact that we’d get to see snow and play in it was even more exciting. Bundling up in coats and hats and gloves just wasn’t done in Florida the way it was in Ohio.

Upon our arrival, the scene was bare, but we had high hopes. Spending time with family we seldom saw was fun. Going to a giant mall all decked out in holiday décor was splendid. Riding on an escalator for the first time was… intimidating. My aunt had to coax me onto it, and still, to this day it takes me a split-second to take that first step when the timing is just right.

A few days into our visit, the snow finally came, and boy were we ready for it! What seemed like a good deal to us was but a skiff, a dusting to Ohio natives. We made the most of it anyway. We went out tree hunting then returned to build our first snowman – albeit, a very teeny, tiny snowman. Didn’t matter to us Florida kids. (In the picture, I’m with my brothers. I have a younger sister but don’t remember why she wasn’t in the picture. Mom was the one taking the photo.)

My memories of the two or three trips north will always bring a smile to my face. Being treated to KFC on the road. Staying in a Howard Johnson and of course jumping on the hotel beds. Seeing Grandpa (who served in WWII) and being introduced to music from the 40s, such a Glenn Miller Orchestra, The Andrews Sisters, and more. Grandpa and mom teaching me the Charleston which I later performed in a grade school show. Mom even made my flapper dress. (Off on another tangent…)

My message is to take the time to enjoy the simple things that bring us joy. Make those unforgettable memories with your family. And may the Christmas spirit of love be with you all year long.

~

In my featured book, Forever Feral, my story revolves around found-family and the joyful memories they make. And for Leah, who grew up in Southern Arizona, snow for Christmas was the ultimate treat!

When invited to spend Christmas in Arizona with their friends they now consider family, Irena and Roberto don’t hesitate. The Arctic fox shifter and mountain lion shifter are right at home among the others—hawk shifters Mason and Brennon, wolf shifter Max, and their mates, Charity, Mikki, and Caterina. Not to mention the precocious and delightful Leah, Charity’s niece.

The holiday brings welcomed surprises such as proposals, babies, and snow in the desert. Brought together under dire circumstances and bonded by kinship, these shifters and their mates discover a love that will forever be feral and ever-lasting.

Laura’s living life in the Pacific Northwest, enjoying family and the chance to make her author career soar. A veteran and semi-retired dental hygienist, a wife, mother, and grandmother, as well as an experienced mover, having traversed the country from the East Coast to the West, she sprinkles her experiences into her writing. She also writes about adventures she may not otherwise experience herself. Her goal is to provide laughter and swoon-worthy moments, as well as captivating stories in which the reader can lose themselves.

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This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of Rory’s Christmas Angel, delivered via Amazon. 

Appreciating the Little Things

My first Christmas away from home and family was spent in Honduras while serving in the U. S. Army. I did rotations of temporary duty there, and when I realized I’d be there for the holiday, it struck me that this was my life now. No longer would I have the easy ability to return home for every holiday, birthday, or anniversary.

I also realized that we (as in my fellow servicemen and women) were a family of sorts and were going to have the best holiday we could while away from our true family. After all, we signed up for this and had to make the most of it. Luckily, my closest friend was also on the same rotation, and I was oh so happy we’d be spending the time together. 

Our conditions were pretty simple, living in what were basically shacks. I liked to think of them as rustic cabins. We had a mess hall (our version of a cafeteria) along with a small store where we could purchase items sent down from the states. Having fresh bread and soda was an actual luxury! Within our officers’ section, they had a simple kitchen set-up that only they were allowed to utilize. However, an exception was made when I proposed cooking the holiday meal for our intimate group of enlisted personnel and officers.

Knowing when the next transport would be arriving, I made a “shopping list” a few friends state-side took care of, sending down not only food items, but decorations as well. We turned our tropical setting into a holiday spectacle with Christmas trees, cardboard snowmen, and plenty of silver garland; right down to our military-issued green socks for stockings being hung from the rails on our wooden porches with candy canes nestled inside.
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When it came time for our holiday dinner, I took pride in being able to cook a traditional feast consisting of turkey, dressing, potatoes, and vegetables. (I’m certain we had some sort of dessert, but honestly can’t remember if it was pumpkin pie or other.) 

Once the meal was ready, I was asked to say a prayer (being the facilitator of the event) and readily thanked God for all he provided us, including the bond we shared in our time together. It was a memorable holiday indeed, making the most of what we had and who we had around us. And I for one know that when I spent subsequent holidays and time with family and friends, I simply enjoyed the gatherings; uncaring of fancy dishes or the number of presents under the tree. For me it was about quality time together.

Frankie Chandler left the Navy to become a rural veterinarian while also helping raise her nephew. State Trooper Rory Sanders is raising his daughter after the death of his wife. Neither is looking for love, but fate has a way of intervening.

Wife, mother, grandmother; veteran, dental hygienist, romance author. I write what I enjoy – contemporary romance with humor, emotion, and always a happily-ever-after. When not writing or reading, I’m enjoying time with family in the Pacific Northwest and dreaming of worldly travel with my husband.

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