It’s A Wonderful Life

So, this week I finally saw the entire film “It’s A Wonderful Life” for the first time in all my life!  I had read and heard commentary about the movie through the years.  It’s probably the most referenced film in other movies.  I had seen enough clips to equal about half of it, but I can’t believe I never saw the whole enchilada until now.  So appropriate to our times in this foreclosure mess, so American (Mark Twain’s book the  gift from the guardian angel), surprisingly New Age-y spiritual, and utopic. . . if we just all pitch in 1% of what we have to bail out everyone who has lost everything, think what we could do!

The emotional journey of the hero, aka Jimmy Stewart, is one so many of us have faced – standing at a bridge ready to jump because we can’t imagine we have what it takes to live in this world, in this time.  I’m nowhere near that bridge now, but I have been in the past and my heart goes out to anyone whose pain is greater than their ability to cope.

For the past 2 days, I have been without a main source of heat due to a broken heater, and that got me thinking. . . have I been dreaming too hard about camping, trekking, and living under the stars so that my dream became a reality in whatever way it could manifest, given the fact I need to work indoors to support my family?  At any rate, it has been a wee bit fun since I have not been able to afford camping equipment lo these years and instead can pretend my wool socks and layered blankets are a sleeping bag and my room walls a tent.  Thankfully, my landlords have provided a space heater so I can continue working in comfort (trying to type 110 words per minute in 30 degrees is rather impossible), and the heater will be fixed. . . as soon as the repair man is back from vacation.  One of the joys of living in a relatively remote area.

My daughter celebrated her 11th birthday this week with a lunar eclipse!  She set her alarm for 5 a.m. to see the moon and that was the best gift of all.  She then proudly marched in to tell me at precisely 8:57 a.m. that she was officially 11.  She apparently gleaned the moment of her birth from reading her birth certificate.  Being the person who gave birth to her, one would think I would remember, but I did not.  She had a fairly good sleepover party of 6 5th grade girls, but I made a note to self not to have such a gathering on a full moon again. . . or ever.  From now on, it’s going to be 1-on-1 “get-togethers” or “hang outs”. . . anything except the dreaded term “playdate.”  That’s so 2nd grade.  They had a barrel of fun singing YouTube songs together, making personal pizzas, and even making each other crafts since we couldn’t afford party favors this year, but the sleepover part – not such a good idea on my part.  Live and learn.

I don’t always use the food bank even though I could, but you know it’s a food bank month when you think, should I buy toilet paper or get my daughter the birthday present she’s asked for?  I ended up siding with the birthday present and borrowing TP (that sounds disgusting but I mean replacing the lender’s with a new roll).  The gift was taking her to our local production of the Nutcracker ballet.  Now this is not any ordinary small town production.  This is fantastic!  I even met someone who had seen the San Francisco and Seattle ballet company versions and preferred the Whidbey Island Dance version.  They spruced up the choreography and even managed to weave a section of tap dance, gymnastics, and an underwater scene into the Tchaikovsky seamlessly.  It was great fun and exactly what my daughter wanted.  We realized it had been the first time we had gone just the 2 of us together to much of anything.

What a wonderful life!


About Erin W

A sensitive plant, bamboo strong.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.