Good news/bad news

Some of you may recall a certain post from a few days before Christmas in which I ever so subtly mentioned that I really, really, really wanted a DSLR camera. I never seriously thought I'd get one for Christmas—or for any other occasion any time soon, for that matter.

Yet, a very generous Santa in search of one last special gift took that post to heart and granted me my Christmas wish.

That is the good news. The downright-so-awesome-it-made-me-cry-when-I-opened-it news.

The bad news: I've not yet had the time or inclination to learn even the smallest of wonders the magical camera has in store for those who know which bells to ring and whistles to blow. Because—and this is good news—my adorable and ever-so-photogenic grandsons and their mommy and daddy have been visiting since the day I opened that unexpected DSLR.

More good news, though—in addition to my grandsons still being here—is that I don't have to know much of anything to get great photos from my new toy because it has a nifty auto feature intended to save ignorant newbies like me. As proof, here are two photos taken using that awesome auto feature during our family visit to the aquarium yesterday—photos that never would have turned out as well (if at all) with my old camera, photos straight out of the camera with no editing at all:

I love those photos! I love my new camera! (And I love the subjects of those photos taken with my new camera a fair smidgen, too!)

There is one teensy bit more bad news, though: Now that I finally have exactly what I've been wishing for I can no longer blame any crappy photos on this blog on my camera. The onus is on the operator.

Which can be turned into good news, I think—once I take the time to figure out all the bells and whistles that make for super awesome shots.

Or once I commit to forever going forward leaving the camera set to the automatic-super-awesome-without-knowing-a-thing feature.

(Having that option is pretty much the very best news of all.)

Today's question:

Describe one of your favorite recent photos taken by you or someone else.

Wish lists: To give or to receive?

I just finished my holiday wish list. It's a long one, with all kinds of goodies I'd be happy to see under my tree or in my stocking come Christmas morning. I've added, edited, re-added, then checked it twice and hit "send," forwarding it on to my husband and my daughters.

Makes me sound like a greedy ol' grandma, doesn't it? Like my long wish list serves as a not-so-subtle way of goading my family into spending oodles of cash on me.

It's quite the opposite, though. My lengthy list was provided and passed along out of love—a provision my daughters and husband understood and, thankfully, reciprocated, sending their very own lists of wants and wishes to me.

Our tradition of exchanging lengthy wish lists started years, possibly even decades ago. When my daughters were youngsters, they naturally made up lists of all they desired from Santa. Creating the list was oh-so important. To them. Then, as visions of Jolly Ol' St. Nick stopping by were replaced with the reality that Mom was the primary purchaser of gifts exchanged come Christmas, wish lists became more important than ever. To me.

My family is of modest means. It's safe to say that in some years, we were pretty far below the line marking those means even modest. Which meant every penny spent was precious, and I sure didn't want to waste a single one on gifts my loved ones didn't genuinely desire. As mother to three daughters, true wants and wishes were often hard to figure out, especially when the girls were pre-teens and teens. Hence the wish lists. I didn't want to guess and have either of us—or my bank account—come up short.

So I started the annual rite of sometime before Black Friday asking my daughters—and husband—to create wish lists, to write down more than they could ever hope to receive for Christmas. With a wish list in hand as I did my holiday shopping, I'd be sure to grant at least a wish or two, regardless of my means. Requesting especially long lists served a purpose, too: it ensured the gifts I gave would be a surprise, to some degree, as the recipients wouldn't know for certain exactly which items I'd purchased from their lists until the gifts were opened.

My girls aren't greedy, so it's never been in their nature to make huge requests, lengthy requests of what they're hoping to receive. But they did (and do) as I wished, knowing providing the lists was, in fact, a gift to me, helpful in my desire to please them with my purchases.

Which is exactly the reason I do the same for them. I provide long wish lists in hopes my daughters won't waste their hard-earned money trying to please their mama with the perfect gift. I list for them everything that would be perfect, not only for me, but for their pocketbooks. I give them inexpensive ideas and they're welcome to choose whatever works for them. And whatever works for them will surely be wonderful to me. My list guarantees that.

That doesn't mean we shun and discourage gifts not featured on a list. Receiving something not on a list can be a pleasure of indescribable sorts, a sign a loved one has taken note of another's likes and desires and needs without having to be told. I welcome that. We all welcome that. But we all also are happy to provide the safety net of a wish list, just in case.

Gift-giving can be awkward, for both the giver and the receiver. It can be even more awkward—for both sides—when the one giving isn't confident about what she's given. Which is why I consider providing a wish list a gift in itself, one I'm ever so happy to give. Even more so, they're a gift I'm forever grateful to receive.

Photo: fotolia

Today's question:

What is the wish-list protocol in your family?

Miles o' smiles

For Christmas, Jim and I gave Megan, Preston and Bubby one of the best gifts I think I've ever given: a family membership to the children's museum.

 

 

 

In return, their smiles -- and happy photos of their visit -- are one of the best THANK YOUs I have ever received.

On a totally unrelated note:

The Today's Question from "The Christmas Conversation Piece" feature I've run the past 25+ days proved to be pretty popular. I've enjoyed the responses, and it seems you've enjoyed giving them. Why stop now? I've got plenty of conversation starters, so I'm going to continue running a daily question -- at least until the fun wears out.

Today's question from "If ... (Questions for the Game of Life)":

If you could wake up tomorrow to learn that the major newspaper headlines were about you, what would you want them to say?

My desired headline: "After years and years of entering, Grandma finally wins millions from Publisher's Clearing House!" And the subhead would read: "Grandma's first words: 'I told you guys it would happen!'"