Yesterday was a bit busy. I went out to the post office, and then stopped at the library to put in two interlibrary loan requests. I hope they can get the books. I have read eight of the ten "Camp Fire" series by Hildegard Frey and would like to read the remaining ones. One tells how Katherine joined the group and the other is a Christmas story. Stopped at Sam's Club as well, and bought gasoline there.
Spent the rest of the afternoon dubbing off Castle episodes and watching the Bewitched Christmas episode with Bill Mumy, "Visions of Sugarplums." I tried to find North Station on the instant play on Netflix and it's unavailable this year. Oh, well.
I ordered a pizza and James picked it up on the way home from work. He said he had three calls today, including one he did just because he wanted something to do. Later we went out to the Parkway Pointe Borders to walk around. James had some Borders bucks to spend by the end of the week and since he saw nothing for himself he bought Lynn Johnston's new Something Old, Something New for me for Christmas. After the coupon and the bucks it cost him $5! ($26 MSRP.)
We were up late because Jen is home, so we chatted until almost two o'clock and then I had to finish watching "The Children's Carol" (two-hour Waltons Christmas story taking place in 1940). So we slept in this morning, went grocery shopping (some great twofers at Publix!), and then "snuck in" to Buckhead the back way (so we wouldn't have to endure the traffic between Lenox and Phipps Plaza, two malls which are catty-corner from each other. Found a gift for someone and then...utterly gobsmacked here!...found the November 2010 issue of "Best of British," which I used to buy regularly until the Borders here quit carrying it in early 2005 (or maybe it was late 2004). The last issue I found was at the Borders at Garden City Shopping Center in Cranston the summer my mom died (2005). I always look, but it's never been there...until today! I grabbed it up quick!
It was four by the time we got home, so James warmed up our leftover turkey legs and we had those for supper while watching an episode of R5Sons Alaska, one of those crazy specials about people who put up jillions of Christmas lights, and the two most recent Hawaii Five-O episodes, the second of which was a Christmas episode that revealed that this iteration, too, has a Wo-Fat.
Am now on chat. We always get together every year and watch "Christmas in the Airwaves" (Remember WENN) with each other.
19 December 2010
17 December 2010
8 Days Before Christmas
Will you tell me why people are such all-fired rude snots when they are out Christmas shopping? I intended just to take a usual trip up to Town Center to check if the Barnes & Noble had that Christmas "BBC History Magazine" (not only didn't they have it, but they still had the November issue—phooey).
I actually went to JoAnn first, since I was also looking for the new issue of Mary Hickmott's "New Stitches," which was easy, but after that I got embroiled in holiday shopping traffic. I didn't mind the slowness as much as people just driving without any regard for anyone else. At Barnes & Noble, a woman in an SUV trying to get around an SUV was blabbing on her cell phone and steering with one hand in the narrow lane between cars. I was heading out of JoAnn and decided I did not want to make the left turn as the traffic going toward the mall was so bad, so I was trying to change lanes. I had my blinker on and a dozen cars just zipped past me without giving me any consideration. Had the light been green, I might have understood, but they were passing me without letting me in, just to stop at the light a few yards ahead. After I left Borders, I went out the back to avoid Barrett Parkway. I was going straight past the LifeWay store. To my right, three cars were lined up waiting for parking places. Instead of letting me and the person behind me go through until the three cars moved on, a person coming in the opposite direction turned left to queue behind the three cars, completely blocking the road.
Oh, and when I was coming out of Barnes & Noble, I did so via Bells Ferry Road. There are two lanes at that point, one a dedicated left turn, the other a combined straight/right turn. I was going straight, so I did not have my turn signal on, but this didn't keep the woman behind him from beeping her horn at me several times, motioning me to turn right!
It absolutely flabbergasts me the shopping frenzy people get into before Christmas. Hello! Christmas IS NOT ABOUT GIFTS!!! Gifts are nice. It is wonderful to know someone cares about you enough to buy a gift. I like buying gifts for my friends and family; it makes me feel good. But the frenzy drives me nuts. Christmas is about fun, fellowship, friends, family...gifts are not the main objective! Give it a rest, folks!
Sleigh Bells for Windy Foot, Frances Frost
I first read this book back in Stadium School in the early 1960s, and it never fails to please—in fact it makes you want to chuck it all for an old-fashioned dairy farm in Vermont in the late 1940s. Kids today would probably gape at how self-sufficient kids back then were allowed to be: 12-year-olds out skiing alone or taking their 9-year-old sisters on snowshoes out in the woods with no sign of GPS or cell phones for parents to keep track of them; instead of texting or playing video games, the kids actually interact with their parents and don't act like they're embarrassed by them, popping corn in front of the fire, going carol singing and Christmas shopping. Little girls still enjoy their childhood: play with dolls and enjoy a good book for Christmas and tramp out into the woods to gather evergreens rather than swoon over pubescent boy singers and try on makeup.
This book will make you feel warm and happy. Okay, the little brother who makes up rhymes does get a bit much occasionally. But then younger siblings do!
I actually went to JoAnn first, since I was also looking for the new issue of Mary Hickmott's "New Stitches," which was easy, but after that I got embroiled in holiday shopping traffic. I didn't mind the slowness as much as people just driving without any regard for anyone else. At Barnes & Noble, a woman in an SUV trying to get around an SUV was blabbing on her cell phone and steering with one hand in the narrow lane between cars. I was heading out of JoAnn and decided I did not want to make the left turn as the traffic going toward the mall was so bad, so I was trying to change lanes. I had my blinker on and a dozen cars just zipped past me without giving me any consideration. Had the light been green, I might have understood, but they were passing me without letting me in, just to stop at the light a few yards ahead. After I left Borders, I went out the back to avoid Barrett Parkway. I was going straight past the LifeWay store. To my right, three cars were lined up waiting for parking places. Instead of letting me and the person behind me go through until the three cars moved on, a person coming in the opposite direction turned left to queue behind the three cars, completely blocking the road.
Oh, and when I was coming out of Barnes & Noble, I did so via Bells Ferry Road. There are two lanes at that point, one a dedicated left turn, the other a combined straight/right turn. I was going straight, so I did not have my turn signal on, but this didn't keep the woman behind him from beeping her horn at me several times, motioning me to turn right!
It absolutely flabbergasts me the shopping frenzy people get into before Christmas. Hello! Christmas IS NOT ABOUT GIFTS!!! Gifts are nice. It is wonderful to know someone cares about you enough to buy a gift. I like buying gifts for my friends and family; it makes me feel good. But the frenzy drives me nuts. Christmas is about fun, fellowship, friends, family...gifts are not the main objective! Give it a rest, folks!
Sleigh Bells for Windy Foot, Frances Frost
I first read this book back in Stadium School in the early 1960s, and it never fails to please—in fact it makes you want to chuck it all for an old-fashioned dairy farm in Vermont in the late 1940s. Kids today would probably gape at how self-sufficient kids back then were allowed to be: 12-year-olds out skiing alone or taking their 9-year-old sisters on snowshoes out in the woods with no sign of GPS or cell phones for parents to keep track of them; instead of texting or playing video games, the kids actually interact with their parents and don't act like they're embarrassed by them, popping corn in front of the fire, going carol singing and Christmas shopping. Little girls still enjoy their childhood: play with dolls and enjoy a good book for Christmas and tramp out into the woods to gather evergreens rather than swoon over pubescent boy singers and try on makeup.
This book will make you feel warm and happy. Okay, the little brother who makes up rhymes does get a bit much occasionally. But then younger siblings do!
16 December 2010
9 Days Before Christmas
My last day of work before a nice break until January 3!
Listened to the two new Revels albums that James bought me for my birthday. "Christmas Through the Years" by the Portland Revels was mostly medieval holy music. "Welcome Yule!" is the anniversary album, with familiar favorites like "Lord of the Dance" as well as new offerings. Later I listened to some Rick Steves' Christmas podcasts, but most of them were repeats of shows I'd already heard. Also listened to a "BBC History Magazine" Christmas podcast which was an A-Z historical quiz. Supposedly there is a Christmas issue out; I need to go look for it!
The one fly in the ointment was not being able to finish some small modifications. One wouldn't complete and for the other I didn't have the correct information.
Tonight when James came home we stopped by Wendy's for supper-on-the-fly and drove into Buckhead to the Atlanta History Center to attend one of the two Candlelight Nights. We skipped Tuesday's figuring the weather would be better tonight; boy, talk about a miscalculation. It was just foggy when we left home, but as we threaded our way down West Paces Ferry Road it began to drizzle, then rain. And it rained off and on all night, so the nice candlelit paths were mostly extinguished. :-(
When we got there we listened to an a capella do-wop group, ten older men singing Christmas carols, including "The Twelve Days of Christmas" intertwined with "Carol of the Bells," a lively do-wop "Jingle Bells," and even "In the Still of the Night." Then we wandered toward the back where a group of one man and several women were playing traditional instruments like dulcimers and autoharps. The sound of one single dulcimer playing a plaintive song like "Silent Night" can be one of the most haunting sounds in the world.
They had some little snacks downstairs, cookies, pecan tartlets, and brownie bites, so we had a couple of those and then emerged to a foggy, damp world. We walked down the hill, crossing the little brook that runs through the property, but sorely missing the doused candles, on the way to the Swan House, which was the home of the Inmans from the 1920s. (One lone candle, sheltered under some vines, remained burning outside the house.) Outside it looked like a fog-shrouded London night; inside it was warm and welcoming, minimally and tastefully decorated with small red packages in pyramids or red irises, and one tree at the foot of the circular main staircase and another in the upper hall, the latter in silver and gold and decorated with glass swans.
From the Swan House we walked to the Tullie-Smith farmhouse, which is from the 1800s. They had docents dressed in period clothing, a gentleman in the dining room talking about the family, a woman in hoop skirts, and two younger women, one making tea cloths on a loom, and one spinning on a large spinning wheel. They could only have electric candles, so the rooms were quite dark.
Then we walked out to the separate kitchen (kitchens were a separate building back in those days, due to the heat in summer and the threat of fire) where they had been baking a pie and gingerbread in cast-iron spiders with hot coals on top (the gingerbread looked delicious, but they were not allowed to give samples), and then to the blacksmith shop, where someone was still at work at the forge, and finally back to the history center for some hot cocoa. As we sipped the cocoa we listened to the folk instrument group play "Jingle Bells."
And then it was almost time for them to close down, so we left and came home through the residential streets of Buckhead and also those nearer home to check out Christmas light displays.
Watched the last two days worth of Ellen and then a segment on Jimmy Fallon's show where Ben Stiller and Jimmy played charades against Ben's parents, one of my favorite comedy acts, Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara. Between the latter, Jimmy nearly hit the floor laughing. He always looks like he's having such fun.
Listened to the two new Revels albums that James bought me for my birthday. "Christmas Through the Years" by the Portland Revels was mostly medieval holy music. "Welcome Yule!" is the anniversary album, with familiar favorites like "Lord of the Dance" as well as new offerings. Later I listened to some Rick Steves' Christmas podcasts, but most of them were repeats of shows I'd already heard. Also listened to a "BBC History Magazine" Christmas podcast which was an A-Z historical quiz. Supposedly there is a Christmas issue out; I need to go look for it!
The one fly in the ointment was not being able to finish some small modifications. One wouldn't complete and for the other I didn't have the correct information.
Tonight when James came home we stopped by Wendy's for supper-on-the-fly and drove into Buckhead to the Atlanta History Center to attend one of the two Candlelight Nights. We skipped Tuesday's figuring the weather would be better tonight; boy, talk about a miscalculation. It was just foggy when we left home, but as we threaded our way down West Paces Ferry Road it began to drizzle, then rain. And it rained off and on all night, so the nice candlelit paths were mostly extinguished. :-(
When we got there we listened to an a capella do-wop group, ten older men singing Christmas carols, including "The Twelve Days of Christmas" intertwined with "Carol of the Bells," a lively do-wop "Jingle Bells," and even "In the Still of the Night." Then we wandered toward the back where a group of one man and several women were playing traditional instruments like dulcimers and autoharps. The sound of one single dulcimer playing a plaintive song like "Silent Night" can be one of the most haunting sounds in the world.
They had some little snacks downstairs, cookies, pecan tartlets, and brownie bites, so we had a couple of those and then emerged to a foggy, damp world. We walked down the hill, crossing the little brook that runs through the property, but sorely missing the doused candles, on the way to the Swan House, which was the home of the Inmans from the 1920s. (One lone candle, sheltered under some vines, remained burning outside the house.) Outside it looked like a fog-shrouded London night; inside it was warm and welcoming, minimally and tastefully decorated with small red packages in pyramids or red irises, and one tree at the foot of the circular main staircase and another in the upper hall, the latter in silver and gold and decorated with glass swans.
From the Swan House we walked to the Tullie-Smith farmhouse, which is from the 1800s. They had docents dressed in period clothing, a gentleman in the dining room talking about the family, a woman in hoop skirts, and two younger women, one making tea cloths on a loom, and one spinning on a large spinning wheel. They could only have electric candles, so the rooms were quite dark.
Then we walked out to the separate kitchen (kitchens were a separate building back in those days, due to the heat in summer and the threat of fire) where they had been baking a pie and gingerbread in cast-iron spiders with hot coals on top (the gingerbread looked delicious, but they were not allowed to give samples), and then to the blacksmith shop, where someone was still at work at the forge, and finally back to the history center for some hot cocoa. As we sipped the cocoa we listened to the folk instrument group play "Jingle Bells."
And then it was almost time for them to close down, so we left and came home through the residential streets of Buckhead and also those nearer home to check out Christmas light displays.
Watched the last two days worth of Ellen and then a segment on Jimmy Fallon's show where Ben Stiller and Jimmy played charades against Ben's parents, one of my favorite comedy acts, Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara. Between the latter, Jimmy nearly hit the floor laughing. He always looks like he's having such fun.
15 December 2010
Christmas Photo Nostalgia
Weird yellow streaks in one photo and some purplish cast on any others were caused by the scanner.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Mom and Dad at Papà's house in 1952. Mom was evidently feeding Dad well back then! Check out the suspenders!
My first Christmas, 1955, with Dad holding me in front of the tree. I'm about two weeks old here. Dig the 50s wallpaper, the print curtains, and that big metal radiator behind the table the tree is on. Any windows not over those radiators had frost on them during the winter.
Here I am with my first doll at age 1; it had odd, soft skin. And the beloved "Skotch" cooler, that accompanied us on so many trips to the beach!
Just turned two, here I am with Mom. I see a tea set and a toy telephone. I also got a doll carriage that year.
My grandmother died in 1958, so we had a small tree and did not put it in the window and only lit it on Christmas Eve. There's my tin stove! The stuffed dog was named "Little Lassie." Guess which show I could stay up to watch!
No Christmas tree here, It's 1959 and I am at the right of my cousin Eileen, who is reading the Christmas story, with my cousin Kathy at her left. I think we were acting it out in "the cellar" of Papà's house. Note the neat built-in china cabinet and the beadboard. The cellar also contained a treadle sewing machine, and, off left of the china cabinet, an old icebox.
At age six, I was a bit embarrassed being kissed before the camera by Dad. That was one of two dresses I had with a velveteen top. I loved velveteen. That was my second phonograph; my dad gave my grandpa my old one to play in his garden shed and bought me a new one. Grandpa used to burn out the tubes in the phonograph by leaving it on overnight one too many times.
BTW, I'm pretty sure I still have all those 45s. I just looked and I know I have the Frosty and the Perry Como that's lying on the floor. I think one of the others is the Alvin and the Chipmunks' "Christmas Don't Be Late," which I still have.
I've noticed some folks comment about the "odd looking" Christmas trees back then. That's because back then they just let them grow naturally. Today they "strip" (prune) them multiple times during the growth process so they are full. Sometimes you had to be creative because a tree had a big empty spot on one side; you either turned it toward the wall or put the entire tree in a corner where it wouldn't show.
Here I am in 1962, or perhaps '63; not sure. In the new stroller is Matilda, the doll my Papà brought me back from Italy. Of more interest is the pink poodle (Pepe) and the grey poodle (Fifi), and my children's Bible sitting next to Fifi. After 1961 because the wallpaper is gone. I remember when they steamed all that wallpaper (it was in the bedrooms, too) off the wall. What a mess.
Frisky and I under the tree, 1968. This is the last time you'll see me with hair this short; when I went into junior high Mom said I didn't have to keep it short anymore. Notice the baseboard heat; the radiators were gone by then.
1969. I can tell, because there's my first cassette recorder, "Reese," keeping company with Frisky. And a Breyer horse.
Definitely 1970, because there's my typewriter, a Smith-Corona Galaxie Deluxe manual. Dad wouldn't buy me a typewriter until I learned to type, which would have been Miss Rossi's class in ninth grade at Hugh B. Bain. Look! New carpet!
This is 1972, and horribly blurry—just wanted you to note the maxi-skirt. Had two. Loved 'em.
1977: note the new paint scheme. Mom hated it, but we were tired of "everlasting beige" all over the house (their room was gold and mine was blue). After Dad died Mom had the bedrooms and the living room painted beige again. The other point of interest is on the right, in the white pot. This was the mimosa tree I was trying to raise. I called her "Fluffy" (for the big fluffy pink flowers mimosa trees have).
Oh, check out the Glass Wax stencils on the front window (also in the next photo). I used to do this all by myself. Loved it all except getting on the stepladder to do that top pane...
Corey, the big stuffed collie, under the tree in 1978, a gift I bought for myself after I went to work. You'd be surprised how many people came in the room and jumped when they saw him, or said "I didn't know you had a dog," before noticing he was stuffed.
The last of the set. It's 1979, and I'm very happy in my fuzzy bathrobe with Corey by my side and a John Denver album ("J.D.") on my lap.
Mom and Dad at Papà's house in 1952. Mom was evidently feeding Dad well back then! Check out the suspenders!
My first Christmas, 1955, with Dad holding me in front of the tree. I'm about two weeks old here. Dig the 50s wallpaper, the print curtains, and that big metal radiator behind the table the tree is on. Any windows not over those radiators had frost on them during the winter.
Here I am with my first doll at age 1; it had odd, soft skin. And the beloved "Skotch" cooler, that accompanied us on so many trips to the beach!
Just turned two, here I am with Mom. I see a tea set and a toy telephone. I also got a doll carriage that year.
My grandmother died in 1958, so we had a small tree and did not put it in the window and only lit it on Christmas Eve. There's my tin stove! The stuffed dog was named "Little Lassie." Guess which show I could stay up to watch!
No Christmas tree here, It's 1959 and I am at the right of my cousin Eileen, who is reading the Christmas story, with my cousin Kathy at her left. I think we were acting it out in "the cellar" of Papà's house. Note the neat built-in china cabinet and the beadboard. The cellar also contained a treadle sewing machine, and, off left of the china cabinet, an old icebox.
At age six, I was a bit embarrassed being kissed before the camera by Dad. That was one of two dresses I had with a velveteen top. I loved velveteen. That was my second phonograph; my dad gave my grandpa my old one to play in his garden shed and bought me a new one. Grandpa used to burn out the tubes in the phonograph by leaving it on overnight one too many times.
BTW, I'm pretty sure I still have all those 45s. I just looked and I know I have the Frosty and the Perry Como that's lying on the floor. I think one of the others is the Alvin and the Chipmunks' "Christmas Don't Be Late," which I still have.
I've noticed some folks comment about the "odd looking" Christmas trees back then. That's because back then they just let them grow naturally. Today they "strip" (prune) them multiple times during the growth process so they are full. Sometimes you had to be creative because a tree had a big empty spot on one side; you either turned it toward the wall or put the entire tree in a corner where it wouldn't show.
Here I am in 1962, or perhaps '63; not sure. In the new stroller is Matilda, the doll my Papà brought me back from Italy. Of more interest is the pink poodle (Pepe) and the grey poodle (Fifi), and my children's Bible sitting next to Fifi. After 1961 because the wallpaper is gone. I remember when they steamed all that wallpaper (it was in the bedrooms, too) off the wall. What a mess.
Frisky and I under the tree, 1968. This is the last time you'll see me with hair this short; when I went into junior high Mom said I didn't have to keep it short anymore. Notice the baseboard heat; the radiators were gone by then.
1969. I can tell, because there's my first cassette recorder, "Reese," keeping company with Frisky. And a Breyer horse.
Definitely 1970, because there's my typewriter, a Smith-Corona Galaxie Deluxe manual. Dad wouldn't buy me a typewriter until I learned to type, which would have been Miss Rossi's class in ninth grade at Hugh B. Bain. Look! New carpet!
This is 1972, and horribly blurry—just wanted you to note the maxi-skirt. Had two. Loved 'em.
1977: note the new paint scheme. Mom hated it, but we were tired of "everlasting beige" all over the house (their room was gold and mine was blue). After Dad died Mom had the bedrooms and the living room painted beige again. The other point of interest is on the right, in the white pot. This was the mimosa tree I was trying to raise. I called her "Fluffy" (for the big fluffy pink flowers mimosa trees have).
Oh, check out the Glass Wax stencils on the front window (also in the next photo). I used to do this all by myself. Loved it all except getting on the stepladder to do that top pane...
Corey, the big stuffed collie, under the tree in 1978, a gift I bought for myself after I went to work. You'd be surprised how many people came in the room and jumped when they saw him, or said "I didn't know you had a dog," before noticing he was stuffed.
The last of the set. It's 1979, and I'm very happy in my fuzzy bathrobe with Corey by my side and a John Denver album ("J.D.") on my lap.
10 Days Before Christmas
The Christmas Book, edited by Harry Ballam and Phyllis Digby Morton
This is one of my finds from last March's library book sale; it was one I took out almost every year. A 1990 reproduction by Omni publishers of a 1947 British volume, this is a collection of half essays/half stories with liberal illustration and even some photographs in black-and-white of Christmas from a British perspective. There's an essay about that particularly British institution, the pantomime and also the kissing bunch, and in the occasional original essay written for the book, post-war rationing is referred to several times, especially in a small portion of the book that concentrates on Christmas food.
Traditionally, the "skin" between this world and the next was very thin at Christmastide, and sometimes otherworldly creatures crept through, hence the spirits in A Christmas Carol. Therefore three ghost stories are included in this volume, including a creepy offering about a student renting a house by Bram Stoker of Dracula fame and Charlotte Gilman's "The Yellow Wall-paper." Plus there is a section of Christmas games and riddles, and even word from the Christmas cynics. A great alternative Christmas read, especially for Anglophiles and history fans.
Christmas After All, Kathryn Lasky
One of the books I read every Christmas, one in the "Dear America" series. Although the ending is a bit too "happily ever after," the story of the Swift family's struggle against the Depression and their unselfish adoption of an orphaned cousin, a refugee from the Texas Dust Bowl, is lively and sobering by turns. Creative, thoughtful Minnie narrates, but the two most memorable characters are Willie Faye, the little girl from Heart's Bend, Texas, and Minnie's precocious younger brother Ozzie, an electronics genius. A memorable Christmas story for all ages.
14 December 2010
11 Days Before Christmas
We had a Christmas luncheon at work today. In the past, we have gone out to eat "somewhere nice," but this year we decided to have folks bring food and people could donate what they would have spent on lunch and it would be given to a charity. I liked that idea very much—I'd rather give to someone who needs it than stuff myself. The main course was ham, and there was also jerk chicken and oxtail, rice, potatoes, beans, a macaroni salad done with bowtie pasta, and other goodies, plus desserts (including the gingerbread I baked last night). (And I got three orders done today, too, and distributed another two. Yay.)
Spent the evening watching specials about people who go all out with Christmas lights. I love these displays, but would not do it for the world. I can't imagine being out there night after night testing and positioning lights, going up on the roof, adding circuits to my house, and paying $500 electric bills!
Speaking of Christmas lights, I'm sure most people know that before there were electric lights on Christmas trees, there were candles, but did you know there were also fairy lights? These looked a bit like votive containers, but with hangers, and they were considered to be safer than candles. They were also used to illuminate outdoors—the 1980s television special Christmas Past notes that many British people used them to light the path to the privy!—in a similar way to our putting out light strings today.
Here in the United States they were more often known as Victorian Christmas Lights.
In the past I have talked about George Nelson's great Antique Christmas Lights website here. Well, apparently it has disappeared (although there is a placeholder saying an "Antique Christmas Lights Museum" will appear in early 2011) and fans of the page have attempted to reconstruct it.
Here's the site link for George's brother Bill Nelson's Antique Christmas Lights and the reconstruction of George's site Old Christmas Tree Lights. George's site also contains some vintage holiday recordings from Edison cylinders, Christmas memories, and more.
Spent the evening watching specials about people who go all out with Christmas lights. I love these displays, but would not do it for the world. I can't imagine being out there night after night testing and positioning lights, going up on the roof, adding circuits to my house, and paying $500 electric bills!
Speaking of Christmas lights, I'm sure most people know that before there were electric lights on Christmas trees, there were candles, but did you know there were also fairy lights? These looked a bit like votive containers, but with hangers, and they were considered to be safer than candles. They were also used to illuminate outdoors—the 1980s television special Christmas Past notes that many British people used them to light the path to the privy!—in a similar way to our putting out light strings today.
Here in the United States they were more often known as Victorian Christmas Lights.
In the past I have talked about George Nelson's great Antique Christmas Lights website here. Well, apparently it has disappeared (although there is a placeholder saying an "Antique Christmas Lights Museum" will appear in early 2011) and fans of the page have attempted to reconstruct it.
Here's the site link for George's brother Bill Nelson's Antique Christmas Lights and the reconstruction of George's site Old Christmas Tree Lights. George's site also contains some vintage holiday recordings from Edison cylinders, Christmas memories, and more.
12 December 2010
Third Sunday of Advent
Read some classic and copyright-free Christmas stories: Christmas (Bookshelf) - Gutenberg
10 December 2010
15 Days Before Christmas
And I finally have the Christmas tree up!
I started at ten and finished at four, and even pushed the tree into the corner, which James usually does. (And I'm paying for it now, being all achy...) But I wanted to finish vacuuming—the floor was a wreck, with artificial needles and tinsel everywhere—and put the manger set up, and that couldn't be done until the tree was in place.
So I put on Christmas specials and just went at it: Christmas Is and The City That Forgot About Christmas, and all of The Christmas That Almost Wasn't (which I find works best if you watch it as a panto like they have in England), and finally How the Grinch Stole Christmas. During the end of the latter I ate some leftovers for lunch and cast a critical eye at the tree and moved some ornaments here and there.
We had one problem: we have a small collection of Hallmark ornaments—an Explorer One, a Lunar Rover, a Freedom 7, and a Defiant from Star Trek—that plug into the light sets and make sounds. Well, no more. The plugs don't fit into the new light strings. The only Hallmark ornament like that that does is the jukebox (not sure why the plugs are different). Bother. I put them under lights so they showed up.
Once lunch was finished, I put Lassie and Timmy Christmas episodes on and went to tinseling the tree. I start from the bottom and layer up, and fight the static electricity every step of the way. The old mylar was bad enough; this super thin stuff is attracted by the slightest bit of a charge. It's really spooky to see it moving toward you. On the other hand, the slightest draft moves the tinsel, so it looks like the tree is alive.
I remember a long line of tinseled trees. Mom always used the icicles and so did most of my relatives. I remember creeping upstairs in my Grandpa's house to go into the dining room where the Christmas tree was at the front window in the dark, the multicolor lights the only illumination in the room and the tinsel reflecting all the colors into shattered prismatic light. The tinsel links me with Mom and all those relatives and neighbors.
After I was done I took a hot shower and three ibuprofin, then lay down for a half hour, and then sat under the tree and put the manger up: the Holy Family in the stable "with ox and ass," and a sheep and an indeterminate animal which I think may be a dog. Then the Three Kings, their camels, and the camel driver on one side, a man offering eggs, a piper boy, two shepherds, a half dozen sheep, a goat and the sheepdog.
And the truck was finished this morning, so they came and picked me up, and I drove it home and now that's done.
James arranged to have a birthday dinner for me tonight with some of our friends. This was great fun. We went to Old Ephraims on Marietta Square. There were pressies—Alice gave me a cool piece of artwork she did of Gregory House—but the company was even better. And in the mail today we received a card from Jen with her official Naval photo! Plus we went out for ice cream afterwards and hunted out Christmas lights on the way home.
I started at ten and finished at four, and even pushed the tree into the corner, which James usually does. (And I'm paying for it now, being all achy...) But I wanted to finish vacuuming—the floor was a wreck, with artificial needles and tinsel everywhere—and put the manger set up, and that couldn't be done until the tree was in place.
So I put on Christmas specials and just went at it: Christmas Is and The City That Forgot About Christmas, and all of The Christmas That Almost Wasn't (which I find works best if you watch it as a panto like they have in England), and finally How the Grinch Stole Christmas. During the end of the latter I ate some leftovers for lunch and cast a critical eye at the tree and moved some ornaments here and there.
We had one problem: we have a small collection of Hallmark ornaments—an Explorer One, a Lunar Rover, a Freedom 7, and a Defiant from Star Trek—that plug into the light sets and make sounds. Well, no more. The plugs don't fit into the new light strings. The only Hallmark ornament like that that does is the jukebox (not sure why the plugs are different). Bother. I put them under lights so they showed up.
Once lunch was finished, I put Lassie and Timmy Christmas episodes on and went to tinseling the tree. I start from the bottom and layer up, and fight the static electricity every step of the way. The old mylar was bad enough; this super thin stuff is attracted by the slightest bit of a charge. It's really spooky to see it moving toward you. On the other hand, the slightest draft moves the tinsel, so it looks like the tree is alive.
I remember a long line of tinseled trees. Mom always used the icicles and so did most of my relatives. I remember creeping upstairs in my Grandpa's house to go into the dining room where the Christmas tree was at the front window in the dark, the multicolor lights the only illumination in the room and the tinsel reflecting all the colors into shattered prismatic light. The tinsel links me with Mom and all those relatives and neighbors.
After I was done I took a hot shower and three ibuprofin, then lay down for a half hour, and then sat under the tree and put the manger up: the Holy Family in the stable "with ox and ass," and a sheep and an indeterminate animal which I think may be a dog. Then the Three Kings, their camels, and the camel driver on one side, a man offering eggs, a piper boy, two shepherds, a half dozen sheep, a goat and the sheepdog.
And the truck was finished this morning, so they came and picked me up, and I drove it home and now that's done.
James arranged to have a birthday dinner for me tonight with some of our friends. This was great fun. We went to Old Ephraims on Marietta Square. There were pressies—Alice gave me a cool piece of artwork she did of Gregory House—but the company was even better. And in the mail today we received a card from Jen with her official Naval photo! Plus we went out for ice cream afterwards and hunted out Christmas lights on the way home.
08 December 2010
17 Days Before Christmas
It was a fairly busy day while I made certain some things were caught up, and finished an order.
Nevertheless, there was lunch and after work to get things done.
I managed to get about thirteen gifts wrapped. It's a mixed bag, one gift for one person in one family, two in another family, and all of James' as well, until I ran out of time.
I also took the little "peppermint tree," which is a small tree in a Santa boot that is about eight inches high and decorated with candy canes and red-and-white striped balls, and put it on one of the shelves in the kitchen. I then quickly cleaned the accumulated dust off the refrigerator. We have a bunch of what could be useful stuff on top of the fridge—plastic drinks jugs, mugs, and water bottles—that we're just not using right now. James or I could put them in those useless half-cupboards that are over the refrigerator, but neither of us can reach into them. Instead, I used the "Gopher," one of those "grabby things" with the long handle, to transfer them into the cupboard. Now the only thing up there are the two extra tea pitchers, the small food processor, and the food scale.
This gave me enough room to put a little Christmas decoration at the top, a Santa mug with Christmas picks and candy canes in it. I've always wanted to do that, and never had the room.
While I was working I listened to an episode of "Travels With Rick Steves" which was half about Christmas in Wales and half about sheep raising and sheepdogs in Wales. Rick's guest sang "Deck the Halls" in Welsh (at least the music from "Deck the Halls"—the Welsh words were different) and talked about Welsh customs like the Mari Llwd. Later the shepherd was demonstrating the whistles he used to control the sheepdogs. Schuyler was going crazy at the whistles, hopping from perch to perch and chirping back.
This evening, since I did not have a chance to do it last night, I watched The Waltons episode "Day of Infamy," which I always do on Pearl Harbor day. It's funny; I wasn't even there, I just heard my mom's stories, but when they announce the attack and then play all the news bulletins, the hair on my arms rises up and I get goosepimples.
Immovable Feast: A Paris Christmas, John Baxterjavascript:void(0)
John Baxter was born in Australia into a era when that country was known for its unimaginative, blah food. Australian vineyards had barely been heard from, and all they were known for foodwise was the "Pavlova," a sugary fruit dessert, and Peach Melba. As he began to travel he also learned the rudiments of better cooking, but it wasn't until he fell in love with a French woman and moved to France that he learned to appreciate fine dining and drinking.
This is the story of Baxter's acceptance of a challenge: to feed his wife's family at their annual Christmas dinner. Baxter's preparations begin months before, as he conceives a menu and then slowly begins gathering the items for the feast: oysters, bought months ahead of time and kept in a tank; the order of a suckling pig that he plans to cook in Cajun fashion, and more. This is a delightful, often humorous book, not just talking of French cooking, but of the French attitude to life, holidays, and, of course, food.
I bought this on a whim off the bargain table and am glad I did. Highly recommended if you love international travel or are a "foodie."
Nevertheless, there was lunch and after work to get things done.
I managed to get about thirteen gifts wrapped. It's a mixed bag, one gift for one person in one family, two in another family, and all of James' as well, until I ran out of time.
I also took the little "peppermint tree," which is a small tree in a Santa boot that is about eight inches high and decorated with candy canes and red-and-white striped balls, and put it on one of the shelves in the kitchen. I then quickly cleaned the accumulated dust off the refrigerator. We have a bunch of what could be useful stuff on top of the fridge—plastic drinks jugs, mugs, and water bottles—that we're just not using right now. James or I could put them in those useless half-cupboards that are over the refrigerator, but neither of us can reach into them. Instead, I used the "Gopher," one of those "grabby things" with the long handle, to transfer them into the cupboard. Now the only thing up there are the two extra tea pitchers, the small food processor, and the food scale.
This gave me enough room to put a little Christmas decoration at the top, a Santa mug with Christmas picks and candy canes in it. I've always wanted to do that, and never had the room.
While I was working I listened to an episode of "Travels With Rick Steves" which was half about Christmas in Wales and half about sheep raising and sheepdogs in Wales. Rick's guest sang "Deck the Halls" in Welsh (at least the music from "Deck the Halls"—the Welsh words were different) and talked about Welsh customs like the Mari Llwd. Later the shepherd was demonstrating the whistles he used to control the sheepdogs. Schuyler was going crazy at the whistles, hopping from perch to perch and chirping back.
This evening, since I did not have a chance to do it last night, I watched The Waltons episode "Day of Infamy," which I always do on Pearl Harbor day. It's funny; I wasn't even there, I just heard my mom's stories, but when they announce the attack and then play all the news bulletins, the hair on my arms rises up and I get goosepimples.
Immovable Feast: A Paris Christmas, John Baxterjavascript:void(0)
John Baxter was born in Australia into a era when that country was known for its unimaginative, blah food. Australian vineyards had barely been heard from, and all they were known for foodwise was the "Pavlova," a sugary fruit dessert, and Peach Melba. As he began to travel he also learned the rudiments of better cooking, but it wasn't until he fell in love with a French woman and moved to France that he learned to appreciate fine dining and drinking.
This is the story of Baxter's acceptance of a challenge: to feed his wife's family at their annual Christmas dinner. Baxter's preparations begin months before, as he conceives a menu and then slowly begins gathering the items for the feast: oysters, bought months ahead of time and kept in a tank; the order of a suckling pig that he plans to cook in Cajun fashion, and more. This is a delightful, often humorous book, not just talking of French cooking, but of the French attitude to life, holidays, and, of course, food.
I bought this on a whim off the bargain table and am glad I did. Highly recommended if you love international travel or are a "foodie."
06 December 2010
19 Days Before Christmas
Work of one sort during the day, a short interruption for a doctor's appointment and getting the car inspected, and then it was to "work" I like better. In short order I had the library tree decorated and in its place. The library looks swell with the glider rocker. Right now you can sit in the rocker and read by the light of the Christmas tree.
After supper I ironed all the cover cloths: the holly cloth for the folding table, the glitter blue cloth for the plant table where the airplane tree would go, and the weathered gingham for under the woodland Santa and tree. I decorated the woodland tree and set up the rest of the woodland things, and then fluffed up the airplane tree and decorated that. This year I gave it a bit more thought and put the darker planes where they would be bathed in the white lights of the tree. The white, red and yellow marked airplanes don't need a light to make them bright!
And then it was upstairs to watch Martha Stewart make Christmas cookies. She made a Polish cookie that was almost indistinguishable from an Italian wandi.
Midnight and Jeremiah, Sterling North
If you have ever seen Disney's charming 1948 film So Dear to My Heart, about a country boy and his mischievous black lamb, you are familiar with this story, which is the source material. The black lamb brings Jeremiah love, companionship, and finally success. This is a lovely children's book about the pleasures of simple country life at the turn of the last century, with illustrations by well-known children's book artist Kurt Wiese. When a crisis strikes just as the Kincaids find happiness, it will take a Christmas miracle to make them whole.
After supper I ironed all the cover cloths: the holly cloth for the folding table, the glitter blue cloth for the plant table where the airplane tree would go, and the weathered gingham for under the woodland Santa and tree. I decorated the woodland tree and set up the rest of the woodland things, and then fluffed up the airplane tree and decorated that. This year I gave it a bit more thought and put the darker planes where they would be bathed in the white lights of the tree. The white, red and yellow marked airplanes don't need a light to make them bright!
And then it was upstairs to watch Martha Stewart make Christmas cookies. She made a Polish cookie that was almost indistinguishable from an Italian wandi.
Midnight and Jeremiah, Sterling North
If you have ever seen Disney's charming 1948 film So Dear to My Heart, about a country boy and his mischievous black lamb, you are familiar with this story, which is the source material. The black lamb brings Jeremiah love, companionship, and finally success. This is a lovely children's book about the pleasures of simple country life at the turn of the last century, with illustrations by well-known children's book artist Kurt Wiese. When a crisis strikes just as the Kincaids find happiness, it will take a Christmas miracle to make them whole.
Happy St. Nicholas Day!
A vintage (19th century) account of St. Nicholas Day in Germany.
Short article from Long Island Press.
Blog entry about St. Nicholas Day in Holland.
Observing St. Nicholas Day in a New York town.
A memory of St. Nicholas Day on USCatholic.com.
And it has nothing to do with St. Nicholas Day besides the fact it was named after the children's saint, but I can't resist putting in a plug for St. Nicholas Magazine.
Short article from Long Island Press.
Blog entry about St. Nicholas Day in Holland.
Observing St. Nicholas Day in a New York town.
A memory of St. Nicholas Day on USCatholic.com.
And it has nothing to do with St. Nicholas Day besides the fact it was named after the children's saint, but I can't resist putting in a plug for St. Nicholas Magazine.
05 December 2010
04 December 2010
21 Days Before Christmas
Oh, goodness! I hated that alarm clock this morning! We didn't go to bed until two. But I tiptoed out of bed and got dressed and started wrapping gifts that needed to be mailed out. I was going at such a clip I could hear the background music from Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol when Scrooge and Dick are cleaning out Fezziwig's counting house going in my head. (I was also checking out the Scotch tape hand dispenser I got to review from Amazon Vine. It works out splendidly!) I wrapped gifts for four people (there were five packages) and then put them in padded envelopes (all they needed, except for one that needed a box), then got dressed (I had hastily gulped down some oatmeal and milk between packages) and we scooted out to the Marietta post office. It was remarkably empty for a Saturday in December—only about ten people in line! (You have to see it on weekdays; the line is usually out the door, with secretaries in there with piles of envelopes from the lawyers who work at the courthouse.)
So the packages are off, the Christmas cards are mailed, and my one international card will be winging its way soon—and it wasn't even noon yet.
We ended up going to the hobby shop via Sam's Club. Walked around Sam's and found some gifts to put away. James has been asking for Christmas ideas, so I asked if he would buy Theodore Rex while I bought The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt. I started reading the latter while we were at the hobby shop. I love the narrative already and I haven't even gotten past the introduction.
On the way home we stopped at Bernhard's Bakery and got a half dozen treats for the next three days' desserts.
Once home, it was a-bustle again. James pulled out the outside lights and proceeded to start putting them up, while I assembled the new rocker. Allen wrenches. I hate Allen wrenches. :-) But it is all put together and settled with a Christmas fleece throw and a holly-patterned pillow (and I had to vacuum and vacuum later on to get all the crumbs of that darned styrofoam from the box off the rug).
James had the tall lights up when I got out there, and I helped him do the railings and then the bushes (I just scatter the lights over the tops, so it looks like blue stars fell on them). We were continually threatened by spatters of rain, but it held back while we were out there. Now we have blue lights (with white stars and white snowflakes).
After that both of us were too tuckered to go out to eat anywhere. We had pizza and watched the news, and now I have Christmas specials on: John Denver and the Muppets, The Bestest Present and The Christmas Angel, It's a Wonderful Tiny Toons Christmas Special, and now A Very Merry Cricket.
(Okay, Chester and Company is over. James has gone down to the man cave and I'm putting Ask the Manager Christmas eps on. Time for Joe (and Dan) and Dana!)
So the packages are off, the Christmas cards are mailed, and my one international card will be winging its way soon—and it wasn't even noon yet.
We ended up going to the hobby shop via Sam's Club. Walked around Sam's and found some gifts to put away. James has been asking for Christmas ideas, so I asked if he would buy Theodore Rex while I bought The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt. I started reading the latter while we were at the hobby shop. I love the narrative already and I haven't even gotten past the introduction.
On the way home we stopped at Bernhard's Bakery and got a half dozen treats for the next three days' desserts.
Once home, it was a-bustle again. James pulled out the outside lights and proceeded to start putting them up, while I assembled the new rocker. Allen wrenches. I hate Allen wrenches. :-) But it is all put together and settled with a Christmas fleece throw and a holly-patterned pillow (and I had to vacuum and vacuum later on to get all the crumbs of that darned styrofoam from the box off the rug).
James had the tall lights up when I got out there, and I helped him do the railings and then the bushes (I just scatter the lights over the tops, so it looks like blue stars fell on them). We were continually threatened by spatters of rain, but it held back while we were out there. Now we have blue lights (with white stars and white snowflakes).
After that both of us were too tuckered to go out to eat anywhere. We had pizza and watched the news, and now I have Christmas specials on: John Denver and the Muppets, The Bestest Present and The Christmas Angel, It's a Wonderful Tiny Toons Christmas Special, and now A Very Merry Cricket.
(Okay, Chester and Company is over. James has gone down to the man cave and I'm putting Ask the Manager Christmas eps on. Time for Joe (and Dan) and Dana!)
03 December 2010
22 Days Before Christmas
Thursday was mostly devoted to work, and I was quite happy to get two orders done on the new Virtual Desktop. We couldn't do it previously because macros were not enabled in Word. I was told by IT to enable all macros because it was a secure environment; previously we had been forbidden to do so due to viruses. So, yay!
During lunch I got the foyer decorated; at least the lights on the miniatures tree worked this year! Later on I was able to decorate the divider that separates the upper story from the foyer.
Just before we went to bed, James brought up the board that goes over the mantel shelf and I brought up the box with the village. That was for today, but it was done very late in the afternoon.
I started out by trying to print the labels for the Christmas card envelopes. This was a terrible mess. The cartridge in my printer was shot, so I tried to print them on James' printer. James' printer has never been the same since he tried to print some decals and got the paper wrapped around the drum and we had to peel it off. They eventually did print, but half of them were bad.
I did, however, finally get the yearly newsletter printed out neatly.
About eleven I left for the Apple Annie Craft Show at St. Anne's Church off Roswell Road. On the way there I stopped at Publix for cash and the post awful for stamps.
The show was fun, although the vendors I wanted to be there weren't (the woman who makes the bottle straps and the person who sold the dog soap). I got only three small things, two of them gifts.
On the way back I stopped at Borders. Found some neat little photo-history books like this, the 1900s, 1910s, and 1930s, for only $2 each. Also bought a "Period Living" and a book (which it turned out we had—I thought we only had the DVD).
On the way out I saw a new hardback called Christmas 1945. Wow! Looks great!
Stopped at Trader Joe's for some bread for lunch and also some proscuitto, but I didn't look at the label carefully enough. It's smoked. Ugh. But I was hungry, so ate it anyway.
Then stopped at Target to buy the glider rocker I have picked out to replace the papasan chair. It turned out the box was too big for the back of my car, so I told them we would come back tonight. I did get a new toner cartridge for my printer before coming home. I got the Samsung original (the price merely made me scream silently) instead of the Office Depot refurb, which is what I got last time. It made nice black copies for a short while and then scattered toner all over the inside of the printer and has given me nothing but pale grey copies for months.
It was only after I'd nursed a sinus headache and taken the dog out that I got to work on the village. Luckily I put everything in the same place each year, so it was easy to place the seven buildings and then arrange the now-well known figures around them: the returning soldier greeting his girl, the nuns singing to the family while Father O'Malley reads his scripture out back, the kid with his tongue stuck to the flagpole, the boy with the plane model, the shoppers exiting Woolworth's, and the policemen just having left "the Buttery" (which is downstairs from radio station WENN, of course).
We had supper at Ken's Grill again, then went back to Target to fetch the rocker and to Borders to return the book (I found its sequel and got that instead). James got me the Christmas 1945 book for Christmas! On the way home we spotted Christmas lights at every quarter, including the house that has a big trumpeting angel on each gatepost of their house.
We received our first Christmas card today, which was enough incentive for me to sit down and finish all the signatures, stick the missives in certain envelopes and label them, and then sticker and stamp them, which I finished up during Tonight.
During lunch I got the foyer decorated; at least the lights on the miniatures tree worked this year! Later on I was able to decorate the divider that separates the upper story from the foyer.
Just before we went to bed, James brought up the board that goes over the mantel shelf and I brought up the box with the village. That was for today, but it was done very late in the afternoon.
I started out by trying to print the labels for the Christmas card envelopes. This was a terrible mess. The cartridge in my printer was shot, so I tried to print them on James' printer. James' printer has never been the same since he tried to print some decals and got the paper wrapped around the drum and we had to peel it off. They eventually did print, but half of them were bad.
I did, however, finally get the yearly newsletter printed out neatly.
About eleven I left for the Apple Annie Craft Show at St. Anne's Church off Roswell Road. On the way there I stopped at Publix for cash and the post awful for stamps.
The show was fun, although the vendors I wanted to be there weren't (the woman who makes the bottle straps and the person who sold the dog soap). I got only three small things, two of them gifts.
On the way back I stopped at Borders. Found some neat little photo-history books like this, the 1900s, 1910s, and 1930s, for only $2 each. Also bought a "Period Living" and a book (which it turned out we had—I thought we only had the DVD).
On the way out I saw a new hardback called Christmas 1945. Wow! Looks great!
Stopped at Trader Joe's for some bread for lunch and also some proscuitto, but I didn't look at the label carefully enough. It's smoked. Ugh. But I was hungry, so ate it anyway.
Then stopped at Target to buy the glider rocker I have picked out to replace the papasan chair. It turned out the box was too big for the back of my car, so I told them we would come back tonight. I did get a new toner cartridge for my printer before coming home. I got the Samsung original (the price merely made me scream silently) instead of the Office Depot refurb, which is what I got last time. It made nice black copies for a short while and then scattered toner all over the inside of the printer and has given me nothing but pale grey copies for months.
It was only after I'd nursed a sinus headache and taken the dog out that I got to work on the village. Luckily I put everything in the same place each year, so it was easy to place the seven buildings and then arrange the now-well known figures around them: the returning soldier greeting his girl, the nuns singing to the family while Father O'Malley reads his scripture out back, the kid with his tongue stuck to the flagpole, the boy with the plane model, the shoppers exiting Woolworth's, and the policemen just having left "the Buttery" (which is downstairs from radio station WENN, of course).
We had supper at Ken's Grill again, then went back to Target to fetch the rocker and to Borders to return the book (I found its sequel and got that instead). James got me the Christmas 1945 book for Christmas! On the way home we spotted Christmas lights at every quarter, including the house that has a big trumpeting angel on each gatepost of their house.
We received our first Christmas card today, which was enough incentive for me to sit down and finish all the signatures, stick the missives in certain envelopes and label them, and then sticker and stamp them, which I finished up during Tonight.
01 December 2010
24 Days Before Christmas
I'd like to say "decorating is going apace," but work takes priority; still, there is lunchtime and after work hours. I started with the kitchen and the dining room, but ran into a snag immediately: the top shelf of the ceppo had come unglued—no idea how. So I had to fix that up and start something else. So both rooms are done, feather trees, sparkly bits, reindeer, and lots and lots of gingerbread, despite having to wrangle with the bead garlands on those feather trees. I think a bit of the reason that we don't have a Christmas tree with garlands—besides the fact that I love tinsel icicles so—is that hanging the fool things to me are like wrestling with Spanish inquisitors.
After supper I also got the Rudolph tree up, and placed decorations in the guest room, and Schuyler also has her decorations (they all play music, natch).
During lunch I also played one of Rick Steves' Christmas-oriented "Travels" podcasts. Since I've just discovered them, there is a backlog of about four years' worth. I'm trying to ration them to last through the season. Since the downloads aren't dated, I'm not certain which year I listened to, but it was Rick chatting with friends about Christmas in Spain, Hungary, the Netherlands, Sicily, Australia, and Paris. The chat about Hungary reminded me of the marvelous chapter about "Mikulas" in The Good Master. In the Dutch segment, the young woman sang and translated the little song the Dutch girl sings in Miracle on 34th Street; the words basically ask "Sinter Klaas" to drop a gift into her shoes. I had to laugh at the Sicilian portion, when the men were talking about being "mama's boys" and wives competing with their mothers-in-law! They mentioned a fascinating old Sicilian custom: children didn't get toys at Christmas, they used to get them on All Saints Day! Now that is something I never knew.
Sirius turned on XM Holiday Pops today, so I had that for background music most of the time.
Later:
Christmas Forever, edited by David G. Hartwell
This is the second (I think) in Hartwell's string of Christmas sci-fi/fantasy short stories. As always in anthologies, there are some you like, some you don't—and with fantasy, sometimes a couple you don't understand.
In general, I liked this book. The first story, about a youngster who wants to make a Christmas on an alien planet, sets the stage for the remainder of the stories well. I particularly enjoyed "My Favorite Christmas," about a teenager spending Christmas with a legendary uncle; "Prince of the Powers of This World," about a child waiting for a Christmas birth; "The Cockatrice Boys," about a fight against monsters who have invaded Earth; the sentimental "Pal O'Mine," "A Present for Santa," set in a future where the Government decides whether you live or die; the humorous "We Three Kings," featuring three Christmas monsters; "Christmas Wingding," even a very odd story where Scrooge becomes the film noir gumshoe in a Maltese Falcon world. Several were...very strange. "A Present for Hanna" was just plain creepy.
The story that most affected me was "And When They Appear." It was a very imaginative story of a poor society revolting against the rich from the POV of a small boy who lives in a house designed to protect him. But the last two pages were just so terribly creepy I cannot get the story out of my mind, and I wish it would go away.
Recommended if you don't have problems with stories staying with you (otherwise just skip that one).
After supper I also got the Rudolph tree up, and placed decorations in the guest room, and Schuyler also has her decorations (they all play music, natch).
During lunch I also played one of Rick Steves' Christmas-oriented "Travels" podcasts. Since I've just discovered them, there is a backlog of about four years' worth. I'm trying to ration them to last through the season. Since the downloads aren't dated, I'm not certain which year I listened to, but it was Rick chatting with friends about Christmas in Spain, Hungary, the Netherlands, Sicily, Australia, and Paris. The chat about Hungary reminded me of the marvelous chapter about "Mikulas" in The Good Master. In the Dutch segment, the young woman sang and translated the little song the Dutch girl sings in Miracle on 34th Street; the words basically ask "Sinter Klaas" to drop a gift into her shoes. I had to laugh at the Sicilian portion, when the men were talking about being "mama's boys" and wives competing with their mothers-in-law! They mentioned a fascinating old Sicilian custom: children didn't get toys at Christmas, they used to get them on All Saints Day! Now that is something I never knew.
Sirius turned on XM Holiday Pops today, so I had that for background music most of the time.
Later:
Christmas Forever, edited by David G. Hartwell
This is the second (I think) in Hartwell's string of Christmas sci-fi/fantasy short stories. As always in anthologies, there are some you like, some you don't—and with fantasy, sometimes a couple you don't understand.
In general, I liked this book. The first story, about a youngster who wants to make a Christmas on an alien planet, sets the stage for the remainder of the stories well. I particularly enjoyed "My Favorite Christmas," about a teenager spending Christmas with a legendary uncle; "Prince of the Powers of This World," about a child waiting for a Christmas birth; "The Cockatrice Boys," about a fight against monsters who have invaded Earth; the sentimental "Pal O'Mine," "A Present for Santa," set in a future where the Government decides whether you live or die; the humorous "We Three Kings," featuring three Christmas monsters; "Christmas Wingding," even a very odd story where Scrooge becomes the film noir gumshoe in a Maltese Falcon world. Several were...very strange. "A Present for Hanna" was just plain creepy.
The story that most affected me was "And When They Appear." It was a very imaginative story of a poor society revolting against the rich from the POV of a small boy who lives in a house designed to protect him. But the last two pages were just so terribly creepy I cannot get the story out of my mind, and I wish it would go away.
Recommended if you don't have problems with stories staying with you (otherwise just skip that one).
28 November 2010
"We Gather Together"
I am always on the lookout for new Thanksgiving books.
Your typical Thanksgiving book for adults is a cookbook, whether of traditional foods or new twists, like using other ethnic foods for "spice." The book may also have tips on decorating: "tablescaping" and other ideas of how to set a pretty table.
However, very few adult books ever talk about the holiday itself. Those are mostly reserved for children, and run the gamut from the old "Pilgrims and the Indians" story to stories about being generous and giving thanks.
This year I bought two new (to me) Thanksgiving books that are concerned with the latter rather than the former.
One is indeed a children's book and has been out for a while. 1621: A New Look at Thanksgiving is a publication of National Geographic and Catherine O'Neill Grace and Margaret M. Bruchac of Plimouth Plantation in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Although we have learned for years now that most of our stories about "the first Thanksgiving" are myths created after the fact, many people still think that Pilgrims wore black and had hats and boots with buckles, that the feast they celebrated in 1621 was a "Thanksgiving," and other myths. More importantly, the book devotes much of its pages to the Native Americans who already inhabited the area we now call "Plymouth," and why some celebrate a "National Day of Mourning" to commemorate the loss of their culture.
This slim volume is liberally illustrated and even contains a couple of recipes, but not your ordinary ones.
James W. Baker has written the very readable Thanksgiving: The Biography of an American Holiday. This works very well as a companion piece to Diana Appelbaum's Thanksgiving, but is an easier read without being simplistic. It also touches more on things like images, writings, and films about Thanksgiving, changes in menus in the intervening years, and parades and football games. The one thing that this book makes very clear is that the "iconic" Thanksgiving imagery of Pilgrims and Indians only became emphasized at the very end of the 19th century and during the early decades of the 20th, back when the United States became flooded with non-English speaking immigrants whom the schools wished to impress upon some idea of the country's heritage. Previous to that it was just a New England holiday which spread as New England residents moved westward, and involved reunions with family and friends. Even stories about Thanksgiving mostly emphasized reunions between estranged or long-parted relatives; Pilgrims and Indians were not mentioned.
I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to read more about the history of the Thanksgiving holiday and its changing face over four centuries.
Your typical Thanksgiving book for adults is a cookbook, whether of traditional foods or new twists, like using other ethnic foods for "spice." The book may also have tips on decorating: "tablescaping" and other ideas of how to set a pretty table.
However, very few adult books ever talk about the holiday itself. Those are mostly reserved for children, and run the gamut from the old "Pilgrims and the Indians" story to stories about being generous and giving thanks.
This year I bought two new (to me) Thanksgiving books that are concerned with the latter rather than the former.
One is indeed a children's book and has been out for a while. 1621: A New Look at Thanksgiving is a publication of National Geographic and Catherine O'Neill Grace and Margaret M. Bruchac of Plimouth Plantation in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Although we have learned for years now that most of our stories about "the first Thanksgiving" are myths created after the fact, many people still think that Pilgrims wore black and had hats and boots with buckles, that the feast they celebrated in 1621 was a "Thanksgiving," and other myths. More importantly, the book devotes much of its pages to the Native Americans who already inhabited the area we now call "Plymouth," and why some celebrate a "National Day of Mourning" to commemorate the loss of their culture.
This slim volume is liberally illustrated and even contains a couple of recipes, but not your ordinary ones.
James W. Baker has written the very readable Thanksgiving: The Biography of an American Holiday. This works very well as a companion piece to Diana Appelbaum's Thanksgiving, but is an easier read without being simplistic. It also touches more on things like images, writings, and films about Thanksgiving, changes in menus in the intervening years, and parades and football games. The one thing that this book makes very clear is that the "iconic" Thanksgiving imagery of Pilgrims and Indians only became emphasized at the very end of the 19th century and during the early decades of the 20th, back when the United States became flooded with non-English speaking immigrants whom the schools wished to impress upon some idea of the country's heritage. Previous to that it was just a New England holiday which spread as New England residents moved westward, and involved reunions with family and friends. Even stories about Thanksgiving mostly emphasized reunions between estranged or long-parted relatives; Pilgrims and Indians were not mentioned.
I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to read more about the history of the Thanksgiving holiday and its changing face over four centuries.
First Sunday of Advent
Some classic religious Christmas cartoons:
"The Candlemaker" (1957)
"The Christmas Visitor"
"The Little Lamb"
"The Candlemaker" (1957)
"The Christmas Visitor"
"The Little Lamb"
27 November 2010
28 Days Until Christmas
The Mischief of the Mistletoe, Lauren Willig
While this is the seventh of Willig's "Pink Carnation" novels, it actually takes place concurrently with part of the fifth book, Temptation of the Night Jasmine. Poor but proud Arabella Dempsey (childhood friends with the great Jane Austen), the daughter of an impoverished vicar, takes a position as a junior instructor at a school for wealthy girls. She hasn't been there long before she bumps (literally) into lovable but clumsy Reginald "Turnip" Fitzhugh, personal friend of English spies "the Purple Gentian" and "the Pink Carnation," who's delivering a hamper to his sister. When Arabella tries to return a Christmas pudding to Fitzhugh, she is accosted by a man who wishes to take it from her and is rescued by Turnip.
It turns out the pudding is wrapped in a message, but even though the practical Arabella pooh-poohs the notion of spies, odd things just keep happening to her—things that keep tossing her in the path of the hapless but gallant Turnip.
This is the usual "Pink Carnation" mix of romance, Napoleonic England, and mild adventure, with more than its share of humor and Christmas cheer. Fans of the Carnation will certainly enjoy—but fair warning: Willig just introduced three new characters!
(Incidentally, there's a delicious inside joke as Turnip visits his sister Sally's school, Miss Climpson's Select Seminary for Young Ladies; Sally and her friends are all talking at once with great emphasis, and Turnip wonders why they must constantly use italics. If you've read Dorothy Sayers, it's a true laugh-aloud moment.)
The Holiday Whirl
It was a busy Thanksgiving-before-and-after and it's good to be able to sit down and write about it.
Wednesday involved Willow's type of "hunting," for food, that is! I was off to get elements of the feast.
Note to self: Food Depot does not sell Oven Fry (needed for the top of James' corn casserole), nor newspapers any longer. So i wouldn't try there tomorrow. I did find Oven Fry and some useful twofers at Publix.
Next came a pleasant interlude at Harry's Farmer's Market. I love going here between Thanksgiving and Christmas! The place is full of holiday specialties: pannettone, nuts, cookies of all sorts, clementines, and more, spotted with decorations, and filled with rushing shoppers (some of them rushing too much; I was bumped into and cut off several times), plus Christmas trees and wreaths. I stocked up on cashews and white wine for cooking, bought some supper for tonight (ginger teriyaki chicken thighs), and some chicken noodle soup for lunch. I was looking for an apple pie, but the ones Harry's had were drowned in sugar. Ugh.
It was a long while before I got to eat the soup. I went out to Trader Joe's and did find a more sensible pie, and some other items for dinners and dessert, and also stopped at Borders, since there was a 50 percent off coupon for today only. They had the only copy of The Crocodile's Last Embrace in the area. While I was wandering around I noticed there was a new collection of Valdemar short stories out. (Ah, that's Borders; I checked to see if it was out at another store, and it told me it wasn't released yet.) There were also three additional Christmas-themed magazines out!
I did finally get home to eat the luscious soup, and watch The Thanksgiving Treasure, because I just couldn't wait anymore. I was teary-eyed listening to Grandma talk about getting past the death of her husband. I love the ship analogy. After that, I watched more of Ellery Queen until James got home. The chicken was delicious, but tasted more smoked than ginger teriyaki. For dessert we each had a chocolate mousse tartlet that I had picked up at the bakery at Harry's. Then James wanted to take advantage of the 50 off coupon himself, so we went to the Borders at Town Center since we hadn't been there in a bit. Came home through the park, glimpsing homes with early Christmas decorations.
Thanksgiving morning I was up at 8:30 in a not-so-frustrating search for a paper; the second place I went had one. I sat and watched the Macy's Parade while reading the stories proper and giving the ads the once-over. I'm mainly looking for some thumb drives to replace the ones I seem to have lost. Trying to pick up a Christmas gift as well.
Halfway through the morning James put together the corn casserole and also assembled the key lime pie. It was made from a key lime cheeseball mix, with juice, pulp, and zest of a lime and some lemon-lime syrup added. We left the house a little after one with an apple pie, the key lime pie, the corn casserole, and thai ginger carrots to add to the feast at the Lucyshyns along with the Butlers, the Kiernans, and the Boroses.
Not much to say about the afternoon: we chatted, ate a great dinner (two turkeys and some roast beef, "with all the trimmings"), watched some of Neil's videos, talked some more, saw a spectacular sunset, just enjoyed being "family by choice." We were there past dark, collected our turkey carcass for soup, and drove home, stopping only to check out the extraordinary light display in the development across the street from Alex and Pat's neighborhood. Good God. There were trees, Santas, reindeer, candy canes, a manger, light strings...it can probably be seen from orbit.
We got home to relax, but couldn't stay up late, as I was going out shopping the next day and James had to go to work. Still, we were up too late for my tastes, wanting to get up at six! So I got about six hours sleep, creeping out of the house about 6:30.
For some stupid reason I went to the Brookwood Office Max instead of the Parkway Pointe. They had the best price on thumb drives, brand name ones to boot—and wasn't opening until seven. So I joined the line, casting a speculative eye up to the cloudy sky (it was supposed to start raining at 3 a.m.), and walked in almost directly at seven, going right to the back where the thumb drives were. There was one guy there (everyone else was surrounding the cameras and the phones) looking at the wall with disbelief; all they had were 4GB thumb drives (8's and 16's were on sale, too; I wanted one of each). I got a 4GB, and the clerk told me the others were at customer service, but the customer service lady said no. I paid for the 4, but by that time I was fuming, kicked Twilight into gear, and drove to Parkway Pointe. They still had 8GB drives left out, and 16GB drives in the back.
At Bed, Bath and Beyond, bought James a zester. A bit late, since we needed it yesterday, but we have it now. :-)
Then I drove up to East Cobb (again). There had been a 50 percent off Borders coupon in the paper and I wanted the Valdemar book I saw on Wednesday. I was also starving, since I'd only had a cup of yogurt and a little bag of trail mix since six o'clock and it was past nine by the time I got there. I had a coupon for a free coffee, but they let me substitute a Cocoa Trio, so I sat at Borders for a bit sipping it gingerly (it was very hot) and reading some of the book.
By the time I left Borders, it was raining in earnest. I put up my hood and went on to the Bed, Bath and Beyond at the end of the parking lot. I'd decided to get the micro-cloth memory foam bath mats that I have been looking at. We have been using towel bath mats for years, and they just slip on the floors. These are softer, more stable, but still machine-washable.
Next I stopped at Michaels (25 percent off on everything including sale items), since I needed a new silver garland for the winter decorations for the porch. Got a few minor other things to complete some Christmas gifts.
At this point I think I was a bit punch-drunk and thought I might see if a couple of things I'd seen in the Target flyer were still there. This was sheer folly since Target had been open since 4 a.m. Sure enough, neither were there, but I did have a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup at their cafè, then went on to Town Center. Stopped at Barnes & Noble and found a collection of steampunk short stories, then decided to see if I could get to the Yankee Candle store.
Now last year I went to Town Center Mall on Black Friday. It sounded crazy, but there was plenty of parking in the back where the Yankee Candle store is.
Not this year; it was full to the very edge of the parking lot. They were "parking in the galleries" as I always describe it. It was even full near Sears. So I hope all this shopping is stimulating the economy.
I really was running out of gas by this time, so I just went on to BJs, picked up a couple of things, and bought a Christmas gift, and the first season of The Flying Nun (for only $10). As I trudged the length of the store and back, my legs felt like they weighed a ton. It was time to get home.
It was after two when I got in, intending to eat and take a nap. But after I put a few things up, I couldn't settle, so I had the rest of the demi-baguette and watched The Thanksgiving Treasure again. I finally ended up napping just before James got home.
I was ravenous by this time and got so disappointed. James stopped at Wendys and ordered me my usual, a plain junior hamburger and a baked potato, butter only. When I opened it, it turned out to be a junior cheeseburger (ugh) and the baked potato had been drenched in cheese! What is so difficult to understand about "junior hamburger plain" and "baked potato, butter only"? "Cheese" doesn't even sound like "butter." Bleah. So Willow ate the burger, I grimaced through the potato, and ate the rest of my leftover fried rice.
We finished up the evening watching something called 30 Funniest Holiday Television Moments, sponsored by the Paley Center (the old Museum of Television and Radio, I believe). No offense, but most of it sucked. Half of the "funniest" moments were merely stupid. And since they did include Thanksgiving moments amongst the holiday designation, where the dickens was the turkey drop from WKRP in Cincinnati???? That was funny, not this craptacular junk from Two and a Half Men or Curb Your Enthusiasm. Yuck. Surprisingly, the Thanksgiving "tofurkey" clip from Everybody Loves Raymond was actually funny. I usually find Raymond deadly—everyone does not love him. :-)
Wednesday involved Willow's type of "hunting," for food, that is! I was off to get elements of the feast.
Note to self: Food Depot does not sell Oven Fry (needed for the top of James' corn casserole), nor newspapers any longer. So i wouldn't try there tomorrow. I did find Oven Fry and some useful twofers at Publix.
Next came a pleasant interlude at Harry's Farmer's Market. I love going here between Thanksgiving and Christmas! The place is full of holiday specialties: pannettone, nuts, cookies of all sorts, clementines, and more, spotted with decorations, and filled with rushing shoppers (some of them rushing too much; I was bumped into and cut off several times), plus Christmas trees and wreaths. I stocked up on cashews and white wine for cooking, bought some supper for tonight (ginger teriyaki chicken thighs), and some chicken noodle soup for lunch. I was looking for an apple pie, but the ones Harry's had were drowned in sugar. Ugh.
It was a long while before I got to eat the soup. I went out to Trader Joe's and did find a more sensible pie, and some other items for dinners and dessert, and also stopped at Borders, since there was a 50 percent off coupon for today only. They had the only copy of The Crocodile's Last Embrace in the area. While I was wandering around I noticed there was a new collection of Valdemar short stories out. (Ah, that's Borders; I checked to see if it was out at another store, and it told me it wasn't released yet.) There were also three additional Christmas-themed magazines out!
I did finally get home to eat the luscious soup, and watch The Thanksgiving Treasure, because I just couldn't wait anymore. I was teary-eyed listening to Grandma talk about getting past the death of her husband. I love the ship analogy. After that, I watched more of Ellery Queen until James got home. The chicken was delicious, but tasted more smoked than ginger teriyaki. For dessert we each had a chocolate mousse tartlet that I had picked up at the bakery at Harry's. Then James wanted to take advantage of the 50 off coupon himself, so we went to the Borders at Town Center since we hadn't been there in a bit. Came home through the park, glimpsing homes with early Christmas decorations.
Thanksgiving morning I was up at 8:30 in a not-so-frustrating search for a paper; the second place I went had one. I sat and watched the Macy's Parade while reading the stories proper and giving the ads the once-over. I'm mainly looking for some thumb drives to replace the ones I seem to have lost. Trying to pick up a Christmas gift as well.
Halfway through the morning James put together the corn casserole and also assembled the key lime pie. It was made from a key lime cheeseball mix, with juice, pulp, and zest of a lime and some lemon-lime syrup added. We left the house a little after one with an apple pie, the key lime pie, the corn casserole, and thai ginger carrots to add to the feast at the Lucyshyns along with the Butlers, the Kiernans, and the Boroses.
Not much to say about the afternoon: we chatted, ate a great dinner (two turkeys and some roast beef, "with all the trimmings"), watched some of Neil's videos, talked some more, saw a spectacular sunset, just enjoyed being "family by choice." We were there past dark, collected our turkey carcass for soup, and drove home, stopping only to check out the extraordinary light display in the development across the street from Alex and Pat's neighborhood. Good God. There were trees, Santas, reindeer, candy canes, a manger, light strings...it can probably be seen from orbit.
We got home to relax, but couldn't stay up late, as I was going out shopping the next day and James had to go to work. Still, we were up too late for my tastes, wanting to get up at six! So I got about six hours sleep, creeping out of the house about 6:30.
For some stupid reason I went to the Brookwood Office Max instead of the Parkway Pointe. They had the best price on thumb drives, brand name ones to boot—and wasn't opening until seven. So I joined the line, casting a speculative eye up to the cloudy sky (it was supposed to start raining at 3 a.m.), and walked in almost directly at seven, going right to the back where the thumb drives were. There was one guy there (everyone else was surrounding the cameras and the phones) looking at the wall with disbelief; all they had were 4GB thumb drives (8's and 16's were on sale, too; I wanted one of each). I got a 4GB, and the clerk told me the others were at customer service, but the customer service lady said no. I paid for the 4, but by that time I was fuming, kicked Twilight into gear, and drove to Parkway Pointe. They still had 8GB drives left out, and 16GB drives in the back.
At Bed, Bath and Beyond, bought James a zester. A bit late, since we needed it yesterday, but we have it now. :-)
Then I drove up to East Cobb (again). There had been a 50 percent off Borders coupon in the paper and I wanted the Valdemar book I saw on Wednesday. I was also starving, since I'd only had a cup of yogurt and a little bag of trail mix since six o'clock and it was past nine by the time I got there. I had a coupon for a free coffee, but they let me substitute a Cocoa Trio, so I sat at Borders for a bit sipping it gingerly (it was very hot) and reading some of the book.
By the time I left Borders, it was raining in earnest. I put up my hood and went on to the Bed, Bath and Beyond at the end of the parking lot. I'd decided to get the micro-cloth memory foam bath mats that I have been looking at. We have been using towel bath mats for years, and they just slip on the floors. These are softer, more stable, but still machine-washable.
Next I stopped at Michaels (25 percent off on everything including sale items), since I needed a new silver garland for the winter decorations for the porch. Got a few minor other things to complete some Christmas gifts.
At this point I think I was a bit punch-drunk and thought I might see if a couple of things I'd seen in the Target flyer were still there. This was sheer folly since Target had been open since 4 a.m. Sure enough, neither were there, but I did have a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup at their cafè, then went on to Town Center. Stopped at Barnes & Noble and found a collection of steampunk short stories, then decided to see if I could get to the Yankee Candle store.
Now last year I went to Town Center Mall on Black Friday. It sounded crazy, but there was plenty of parking in the back where the Yankee Candle store is.
Not this year; it was full to the very edge of the parking lot. They were "parking in the galleries" as I always describe it. It was even full near Sears. So I hope all this shopping is stimulating the economy.
I really was running out of gas by this time, so I just went on to BJs, picked up a couple of things, and bought a Christmas gift, and the first season of The Flying Nun (for only $10). As I trudged the length of the store and back, my legs felt like they weighed a ton. It was time to get home.
It was after two when I got in, intending to eat and take a nap. But after I put a few things up, I couldn't settle, so I had the rest of the demi-baguette and watched The Thanksgiving Treasure again. I finally ended up napping just before James got home.
I was ravenous by this time and got so disappointed. James stopped at Wendys and ordered me my usual, a plain junior hamburger and a baked potato, butter only. When I opened it, it turned out to be a junior cheeseburger (ugh) and the baked potato had been drenched in cheese! What is so difficult to understand about "junior hamburger plain" and "baked potato, butter only"? "Cheese" doesn't even sound like "butter." Bleah. So Willow ate the burger, I grimaced through the potato, and ate the rest of my leftover fried rice.
We finished up the evening watching something called 30 Funniest Holiday Television Moments, sponsored by the Paley Center (the old Museum of Television and Radio, I believe). No offense, but most of it sucked. Half of the "funniest" moments were merely stupid. And since they did include Thanksgiving moments amongst the holiday designation, where the dickens was the turkey drop from WKRP in Cincinnati???? That was funny, not this craptacular junk from Two and a Half Men or Curb Your Enthusiasm. Yuck. Surprisingly, the Thanksgiving "tofurkey" clip from Everybody Loves Raymond was actually funny. I usually find Raymond deadly—everyone does not love him. :-)
24 November 2010
31 Days Until Christmas
The Man Who Invented Christmas, Les Standiford
In 1843, Charles Dickens was in difficult financial straits. While his first few books had been hits, his latest was selling slowly and bills were due. As he worried over this truncated income, he was one of a group of men who appeared at one of the poorest of the free schools and was appalled by the hunger and poverty he saw, hunger not only physical but emotional and spiritual.
He wanted to not only increase his income, but provide some recognition for the poor. Years earlier he has written a short story about a parsimonious church deacon who is visited by ghosts. Perhaps he could rework that idea...and when the idea struck him, it struck hard: thus A Christmas Carol was born.
This little book is a good accounting of Dickens' life at the time of its publication, of the state of London's poor, and of the little regard given to Christmas in that era, since it had been quenched by Oliver Cromwell two centuries earlier. Dickens, of course, did not "invent" Christmas, but he invented a new way of looking at it: not high revelry in rich courts as it had been before the commonwealth, but a family-centered, charity-centered celebration. If you are interested in how Christmas got its start being a family holiday rather than an excuse for drunkenness, you should enjoy Standiford's volume. However, I don't think it's worth the list price placed upon it; this is a good book to buy used or at remainder prices.
22 November 2010
33 Days Until Christmas
Chicken Soup for the Soul: Christmas Magic, edited by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, and Amy Newmark
Little needs to be said about the contents of this volume unless you've been sequestered for the last umpety-umph years and have never seen a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" book of inspirational anecdotes. This is the newest Yuletide collection with a nice mixture of sobering, sentimental, and even humorous stories and cartoons. My favorite piece is "I've Got a Secret," probably the funniest "Chicken Soup" story I've ever read, and the cartoons are cute.
Let's face it; if you like inspirational stories or are a fan of this series, you will enjoy this book—I did. Otherwise, cynics beware!
21 November 2010
36 Days Until Christmas
Today was the first of my use-or-lose Fridays and I made the most of it by getting a bit of extra sleep. I toyed with going out, but instead worked on some holiday crafts.
So here I was on the Friday before Thanksgiving playing Christmas music while gussying up Hallowe'en decorations. :-) Playing actual records, too: my copy of the Cranston High School East A Capella Choir LP, "The Partridge Family Christmas Album," and "The Waltons Christmas Album," all nostalgic. My best friend Sherrye was in the A Capella Choir and on one song she has a duet with another soprano. I can always pick out her voice.
The Hallowe'en ornaments weren't much. They are small baubles—I hate saying "balls"; it has such a negative connotation these days!—less than an inch in diameter, in matte black and dark orange. I had a sample collection of "Hallowe'en glitter," so I took six black baubles, coated them in Elmer's glue, and then on three sprinkled bright orange glitter and on three bright green glitter. I used black and purple glitter on the orange ones, drawing bats with glue on three (black glitter) and ghosts (purple). Well, they're supposed to be ghosts and bats, anyway. LOL. Some may see them as shapeless blobs.
Next I painted the supposedly "white" little stool I'd bought on sale at Michael's. The little red stool is already doing duty in holding a stuffed turkey down in the foyer; it will also be employed for Christmas and Valentine's Day, and, with proper decoration, Independence Day. The white stool was actually more dirty cream-colored, and "distressed." Frankly, it looked more annoyed. :-) I painted it a matte pale "winter blue," and it will be used in the winter and for Easter. I didn't bother "distressing" it.
I started working on a Christmas project, but got tired of that, cleared off the rocker, and, to Schuyler's displeasure, sat listening to podcasts while cross-stitching. If Skye had her way, she'd watch television every minute. Listened to one "History of the World in 100 Objects," and a "Travel With Rick Steves" about Belgium and Belize. Did you know it's shorter to get to Tikal (in Guatemala) from Belize? Also lots of talk about "French" fries (invented in Belgium and eaten there with mayonnaise) and Flemish now being the primary language over French.
I am working on this.
So here I was on the Friday before Thanksgiving playing Christmas music while gussying up Hallowe'en decorations. :-) Playing actual records, too: my copy of the Cranston High School East A Capella Choir LP, "The Partridge Family Christmas Album," and "The Waltons Christmas Album," all nostalgic. My best friend Sherrye was in the A Capella Choir and on one song she has a duet with another soprano. I can always pick out her voice.
The Hallowe'en ornaments weren't much. They are small baubles—I hate saying "balls"; it has such a negative connotation these days!—less than an inch in diameter, in matte black and dark orange. I had a sample collection of "Hallowe'en glitter," so I took six black baubles, coated them in Elmer's glue, and then on three sprinkled bright orange glitter and on three bright green glitter. I used black and purple glitter on the orange ones, drawing bats with glue on three (black glitter) and ghosts (purple). Well, they're supposed to be ghosts and bats, anyway. LOL. Some may see them as shapeless blobs.
Next I painted the supposedly "white" little stool I'd bought on sale at Michael's. The little red stool is already doing duty in holding a stuffed turkey down in the foyer; it will also be employed for Christmas and Valentine's Day, and, with proper decoration, Independence Day. The white stool was actually more dirty cream-colored, and "distressed." Frankly, it looked more annoyed. :-) I painted it a matte pale "winter blue," and it will be used in the winter and for Easter. I didn't bother "distressing" it.
I started working on a Christmas project, but got tired of that, cleared off the rocker, and, to Schuyler's displeasure, sat listening to podcasts while cross-stitching. If Skye had her way, she'd watch television every minute. Listened to one "History of the World in 100 Objects," and a "Travel With Rick Steves" about Belgium and Belize. Did you know it's shorter to get to Tikal (in Guatemala) from Belize? Also lots of talk about "French" fries (invented in Belgium and eaten there with mayonnaise) and Flemish now being the primary language over French.
I am working on this.
13 November 2010
43 Days Until Christmas
Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Jingle Bell Christmas
Leave it in the bathroom during the Yuletide season for quick reading during periods of "unavoidable delay." There are jokes, facts, trivia, quizzes, historical stories, and various other tidbits. Not much else to say—it's perfect for the job "at hand." :-)
11 November 2010
45 Days Until Christmas
The Christmas Chronicles: The Legend of Santa Claus, Tim Stover
Our narrator is in the woods gathering pine boughs for Christmas when his car becomes stuck in the snow. There he comes into possession of a green book which purports to be the true history of the man we know as Santa Claus. This little book about the origin of Santa Claus is no relation to Jeff Guinn's Christmas trilogy also known as "The Christmas Chronicles" (I find the choice of title actually a bit bland and wish Stover or his publisher had found something more unique). Klaus is an orphan raised by carpenters who becomes the ultimate woodcarver, and who falls in love with Anna, who loves to race in a sleigh pulled by the reindeer Dasher. As the tale proceeds, all aspects of the legend are pulled into the story, a bit like Rankin-Bass' Santa Claus is Comin' to Town, but written for an older audience. And that's the rub. Had I not been brought up on this Christmas special, or read various other tales of the Santa Claus myth, including L. Frank Baum's The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, the aforementioned Guinn books, and Britney Ryan's wonderful Legend of Holly Claus, this might have seemed fresh and unique to me. Although it sets up some original ideas, like the hidden road that Santa follows, the total seemed a rather tame effort to make some magic from aspects of the Santa legend, like why "Mrs. Claus" doesn't travel on Christmas Eve. Even Rudolph, here known as "Ranulf," is dragged into the story. If you have not read any other takes on the Santa Claus story, this one may please you, but I found it lacking given its predecessors.
03 November 2010
52 Days Until Christmas
A cloudy, chilly November day, just as it should be. I am working, and burning a cinnamon stick Yankee Candle, having almost finished a load of laundry and putting away the Hallowe'en decorations. (I was taking down Hallowe'en decorations to replace with Thanksgiving decorations to the tune of Christmas music. Love it!)
Someone on one of my Christmas groups noted that not only did Dish Network start their Christmas music, but they have six different channels this year; in the past they have only had one. One is country, one is Christian, one is a very odd "Remix" channel that wasn't half bad, one is instrumental, one is classical, and one is jazz. Listened to the instrumental channel for a while, then put on the CD I bought in Ellijay on Monday, Christmas music done on hammered dulcimer, which I can't resist. I then put on "Voices of Christmas Past," which is a collection of old recordings from 1898 to 1924. Love listening to the voices of the men singing in those days, a completely different style of singing; lots of tremolo in it, like old songs you might hear by Irish tenors, with much more emphasis than we would use in a song today. This is the type of album I love to collect, either quiet instrumentals or unusual music, not the new album by the latest singer.
This album also has several "spoken only" pieces, like "Uncle Josh" talking about Christmas at "Punkin Creek" (typical small-town humor) and a piece with an "Oirish" family having Christmas (at least the stereotype isn't insulting), and another that is supposedly a group of British "Tommies" around the fire during the Great War.
Now I am listening to a two-CD set called "A Vintage Christmas Cracker," music from 1914-1949. The "gimmick" is that this is a British album, so, although there are bits of hit American songs on it, like Bing Crosby's "White Christmas," and British bands playing American hits like "Little Brown Jug," the majority of the songs are British, like "The Fairy on the Christmas Tree," and even the King's Christmas message to the Empire.
Someone on one of my Christmas groups noted that not only did Dish Network start their Christmas music, but they have six different channels this year; in the past they have only had one. One is country, one is Christian, one is a very odd "Remix" channel that wasn't half bad, one is instrumental, one is classical, and one is jazz. Listened to the instrumental channel for a while, then put on the CD I bought in Ellijay on Monday, Christmas music done on hammered dulcimer, which I can't resist. I then put on "Voices of Christmas Past," which is a collection of old recordings from 1898 to 1924. Love listening to the voices of the men singing in those days, a completely different style of singing; lots of tremolo in it, like old songs you might hear by Irish tenors, with much more emphasis than we would use in a song today. This is the type of album I love to collect, either quiet instrumentals or unusual music, not the new album by the latest singer.
This album also has several "spoken only" pieces, like "Uncle Josh" talking about Christmas at "Punkin Creek" (typical small-town humor) and a piece with an "Oirish" family having Christmas (at least the stereotype isn't insulting), and another that is supposedly a group of British "Tommies" around the fire during the Great War.
Now I am listening to a two-CD set called "A Vintage Christmas Cracker," music from 1914-1949. The "gimmick" is that this is a British album, so, although there are bits of hit American songs on it, like Bing Crosby's "White Christmas," and British bands playing American hits like "Little Brown Jug," the majority of the songs are British, like "The Fairy on the Christmas Tree," and even the King's Christmas message to the Empire.
31 October 2010
"Addie and the War Hero"
If you are looking for something different to read for Hallowe'en, you might like to try my Hallowe'en themed Addie Mills story.
30 October 2010
27 October 2010
Autumn Amidst the Raindrops
Dark, dripping, and dreary: today in a nutshell. There were fits of rain, but surprisingly no thunder, and it was necessary to keep the lights on all day.
I kept my own inner light burning with the warmth of music in the morning and podcasts in the afternoon. First things first: I played the copy of "New England Christmastide" I received in the mail yesterday so I could do my feedback. I've had "New England Christmastide 2" on cassette tape for years, and when we were on vacation, I saw it on CD in the Christmas store in Weston, VT, along with a newer album, "New England Yuletide," which I purchased, but not the original album. So when I got home I hunted it up on Amazon Marketplace.
All of the collection are instrumentals, my favorite type of Christmas music, done in a simple style on "folk instruments" like hammered dulcimers, bagpipes, recorders, etc. As I expected, it was quite lovely. These are all from North Star Music, located in East Greenwich, RI.
Following were my autumn albums: George Winston's "Autumn," and David Huntsinger's "Autumn in New England" and "New England by Piano." The former Huntsinger album is my favorite of the two, but I really love a piece on the second. It's a bouncy little tune called "Climbing Katahdin" that sounds as if it could be background music in an Addie Mills story. I can see Addie out on her bicycle or working on an art project when I listen to it.
The afternoon was reserved for some podcasts, a "A Way With Words" talking about things like "olly olly oxen free" and its various regional permutations, and two Rick Steves' Travels, one about misconceptions about French culture and the other about Naples.
During lunch and in the evening I worked on my "Father Christmas" cross stitch. I haven't cross-stitched in ages; the light is not good in my usual seat and the rocker is usually clogged with books and magazines, but I loved the old-fashioned look of the piece. I always think the English "Father Christmas" looks better than our Santa Claus, with his hood and robe rather than the silly tassel hat and the red snowsuit.
[10/28: It was finished during lunch today; here it is on the oval backing board, ready to go in its gold frame. The French knots on the tree are not good, but I left them that way, just to look quirky.]
I kept my own inner light burning with the warmth of music in the morning and podcasts in the afternoon. First things first: I played the copy of "New England Christmastide" I received in the mail yesterday so I could do my feedback. I've had "New England Christmastide 2" on cassette tape for years, and when we were on vacation, I saw it on CD in the Christmas store in Weston, VT, along with a newer album, "New England Yuletide," which I purchased, but not the original album. So when I got home I hunted it up on Amazon Marketplace.
All of the collection are instrumentals, my favorite type of Christmas music, done in a simple style on "folk instruments" like hammered dulcimers, bagpipes, recorders, etc. As I expected, it was quite lovely. These are all from North Star Music, located in East Greenwich, RI.
Following were my autumn albums: George Winston's "Autumn," and David Huntsinger's "Autumn in New England" and "New England by Piano." The former Huntsinger album is my favorite of the two, but I really love a piece on the second. It's a bouncy little tune called "Climbing Katahdin" that sounds as if it could be background music in an Addie Mills story. I can see Addie out on her bicycle or working on an art project when I listen to it.
The afternoon was reserved for some podcasts, a "A Way With Words" talking about things like "olly olly oxen free" and its various regional permutations, and two Rick Steves' Travels, one about misconceptions about French culture and the other about Naples.
During lunch and in the evening I worked on my "Father Christmas" cross stitch. I haven't cross-stitched in ages; the light is not good in my usual seat and the rocker is usually clogged with books and magazines, but I loved the old-fashioned look of the piece. I always think the English "Father Christmas" looks better than our Santa Claus, with his hood and robe rather than the silly tassel hat and the red snowsuit.
[10/28: It was finished during lunch today; here it is on the oval backing board, ready to go in its gold frame. The French knots on the tree are not good, but I left them that way, just to look quirky.]
25 October 2010
61 Days Until Christmas
After a beautiful week of New England autumn leaves, the ones here are a bit disheartening. It's not the trees' fault; the soil and the climate is different, and it hasn't yet become cold, so the trees are of subdued hues; even the occasional orange and yellow are muted.
However, we had a good rain this morning, and, although it looked as if it were clearing up when I went to lunch, when I awoke from my nap the clouds had come over again, almost completely covering the sky. It wasn't dark, but grey and misty, and it lent an unearthly look to the trees. The color is always a bit brighter at work, because the complex is set next to a wetlands, and the combination of turning trees against the clouds was quite pretty.
I am doing something tonight I haven't done in ages, work on a cross stitch! It's a small kit I bought on Saturday. I have Strong Poison (the Sayers story done with Edward Petherbridge as Lord Peter Wimsey), and stitching Father Christmas and watching Harriet Vane be cleared of murder make agreeable evening companions.
However, we had a good rain this morning, and, although it looked as if it were clearing up when I went to lunch, when I awoke from my nap the clouds had come over again, almost completely covering the sky. It wasn't dark, but grey and misty, and it lent an unearthly look to the trees. The color is always a bit brighter at work, because the complex is set next to a wetlands, and the combination of turning trees against the clouds was quite pretty.
I am doing something tonight I haven't done in ages, work on a cross stitch! It's a small kit I bought on Saturday. I have Strong Poison (the Sayers story done with Edward Petherbridge as Lord Peter Wimsey), and stitching Father Christmas and watching Harriet Vane be cleared of murder make agreeable evening companions.
06 October 2010
80 Days Until Christmas
Here are the classic Raymond Briggs stories as animated for television, but you may not have seen them this way before. Father Christmas has the original British voices (the version that is sold to American audiences was retracked with a different actor) and this version of The Snowman has the original introduction by Raymond Briggs.
Father Christmas, part 1
Father Christmas, part 2
Father Christmas, part 3
The Snowman, part 1
The Snowman, part 2
The Snowman, part 3
Father Christmas, part 1
Father Christmas, part 2
Father Christmas, part 3
The Snowman, part 1
The Snowman, part 2
The Snowman, part 3
02 October 2010
01 October 2010
85 Days Until Christmas
Whew! End of fiscal year is finally...well, ended, and it's time to start living again. Temperatures dropped a few days ago—I never thought I would be so glad to see it in the 70s, as high 50s are my favorite. Driving home lately I have noted goldenrod sprouting everywhere. It's time for wonderful things
• autumn leaves
• open window weather
• fall festivals
• fall decorations
• pumpkin tarts at Trader Joe's
• hot chocolate and hot soup
• next year's calendars
• Christmas planning magazines
• great photos of autumn landscapes
(hmmn, sense a theme here?)
Ironically the craft project I have now is partially an Easter project, but it can also be used for winter. I bought two little stools to go in the foyer to hold holiday figures or decor. One is red and will work for Christmas, autumn, Valentines Day, and even Independence Day, but it really didn't work for Easter, so I also bought one that's kind of a distressed creamy white. I'm going to paint it pale blue, so it will work for both Easter and winter.
• autumn leaves
• open window weather
• fall festivals
• fall decorations
• pumpkin tarts at Trader Joe's
• hot chocolate and hot soup
• next year's calendars
• Christmas planning magazines
• great photos of autumn landscapes
(hmmn, sense a theme here?)
Ironically the craft project I have now is partially an Easter project, but it can also be used for winter. I bought two little stools to go in the foyer to hold holiday figures or decor. One is red and will work for Christmas, autumn, Valentines Day, and even Independence Day, but it really didn't work for Easter, so I also bought one that's kind of a distressed creamy white. I'm going to paint it pale blue, so it will work for both Easter and winter.
25 September 2010
91 Days Until Christmas
Here's a blast from the past! Castle Films used to make movies for you to show on your home projector. Back when Dad had his Bell and Howell movie camera, projector, and screen, we had a "Deputy Dawg" cartoon in black and white that I loved to see. This has music added to it; our home movies were silent and normally this would have been, too.
"The Night Before Christmas" - Castle Films - 1946 (8mm)
Here's the 16mm version, which has narration:
"The Night Before Christmas" sound version
But you wouldn't have seen this in your home unless you could afford a sound projector.
"The Night Before Christmas" - Castle Films - 1946 (8mm)
Here's the 16mm version, which has narration:
"The Night Before Christmas" sound version
But you wouldn't have seen this in your home unless you could afford a sound projector.
20 September 2010
96 Days Till Christmas
Everything has apparently figured this out except the weather. 90 degrees through the end of the week.
Odd because everything else in nature has been pretty much operating on schedule. Some weeks ago the cicadas quit screaming from the trees in the office park complex. The oak trees are shedding their acorns all over the tarmac to crunch out their lives under tires and soles, and the squirrels' tails are plumping nicely. (I'd wondered if they were sick this year; I've never seen squirrels with such skinny tails as this summer.) Odd leaves are turning yellow, especially on the big tulip trees, and the dogwood trees already have leaves tipped and dipped red, sometimes only one and two to a tree, some with a whole tip of a branch showing scarlet. There's usually a breeze, and it sends leaves spattering down.
We are chatting on one of my Christmas groups about favorite holiday movies, including Hallowe'en films. I'm not a horror film person. "It's a Good Life" on Twilight Zone was about as creepy as I get. Even with Sam Neill in it, I couldn't finish watching Event Horizon. But I do like a few traditional things:
• It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
• The delightfully kitschy The Worst Witch
• Following Fairuza Balk, Fairuza Balk: Return to Oz, deliciously creepy and with Nicol Williamson to boot
• The Haunted History of Halloween from the History Channel
• The even more delightfully kitschy Midnight Offerings, with Mary Beth McDonough (Erin Walton) as a good witch and Melissa Sue Anderson (chewing the scenery) as Vivian Sutherland, a really, really bad witch
• And always the For Better or For Worse cartoon special, "The Good-for-Nothing," in which Farley disappears on Hallowe'en night
Odd because everything else in nature has been pretty much operating on schedule. Some weeks ago the cicadas quit screaming from the trees in the office park complex. The oak trees are shedding their acorns all over the tarmac to crunch out their lives under tires and soles, and the squirrels' tails are plumping nicely. (I'd wondered if they were sick this year; I've never seen squirrels with such skinny tails as this summer.) Odd leaves are turning yellow, especially on the big tulip trees, and the dogwood trees already have leaves tipped and dipped red, sometimes only one and two to a tree, some with a whole tip of a branch showing scarlet. There's usually a breeze, and it sends leaves spattering down.
We are chatting on one of my Christmas groups about favorite holiday movies, including Hallowe'en films. I'm not a horror film person. "It's a Good Life" on Twilight Zone was about as creepy as I get. Even with Sam Neill in it, I couldn't finish watching Event Horizon. But I do like a few traditional things:
• It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
• The delightfully kitschy The Worst Witch
• Following Fairuza Balk, Fairuza Balk: Return to Oz, deliciously creepy and with Nicol Williamson to boot
• The Haunted History of Halloween from the History Channel
• The even more delightfully kitschy Midnight Offerings, with Mary Beth McDonough (Erin Walton) as a good witch and Melissa Sue Anderson (chewing the scenery) as Vivian Sutherland, a really, really bad witch
• And always the For Better or For Worse cartoon special, "The Good-for-Nothing," in which Farley disappears on Hallowe'en night
19 September 2010
97 Days Until Christmas
The best way to spend the time until Christmas is to enjoy the autumn.
Here an entire collection of fall festivals dot the weekends up through October. It starts out with the annual Yellow Daisy Festival the weekend after Labor Day, with booths that line the different trails through the Stone Mountain exhibition grounds. Wares range from cute clothes for Grandmas to shower their grandchildren with to foods (barbecue sauce, soup and casserole mixes, candies, dips, maple syrup, and more), crafts to outdoor displays, children's playthings to homemade soap, musicians CDs to recycled products, home decor, fudge, furniture, ceramics, and more, with the obligatory food stands—and even souvenir bags, postcards, and mugs. Booths are liberally laced with artificial garlands of colorful autumn leaves, and a hope for cool fall is in the air.
This is usually followed by a little show called "A Blue Ribbon Affair" which proceeds the North Georgia State Fair. Well, "proceeds" except for this year. We arrived at the park today to find out they had cancelled it despite announcements to the contrary. Made a bit of a dent in our day.
Will just have to dive back into my collection of fall magazines, including Blue Ridge Country and Birds and Blooms, having finished up Yankee and Vermont Life.
Here an entire collection of fall festivals dot the weekends up through October. It starts out with the annual Yellow Daisy Festival the weekend after Labor Day, with booths that line the different trails through the Stone Mountain exhibition grounds. Wares range from cute clothes for Grandmas to shower their grandchildren with to foods (barbecue sauce, soup and casserole mixes, candies, dips, maple syrup, and more), crafts to outdoor displays, children's playthings to homemade soap, musicians CDs to recycled products, home decor, fudge, furniture, ceramics, and more, with the obligatory food stands—and even souvenir bags, postcards, and mugs. Booths are liberally laced with artificial garlands of colorful autumn leaves, and a hope for cool fall is in the air.
This is usually followed by a little show called "A Blue Ribbon Affair" which proceeds the North Georgia State Fair. Well, "proceeds" except for this year. We arrived at the park today to find out they had cancelled it despite announcements to the contrary. Made a bit of a dent in our day.
Will just have to dive back into my collection of fall magazines, including Blue Ridge Country and Birds and Blooms, having finished up Yankee and Vermont Life.
16 September 2010
100 Days Until Christmas!
Summer always gets on my very last nerve, but this summer has been particular obnoxious. Temperatures sailed up into the 90s at the beginning of June and, except for one or two few days every month, have remained there. Here it is September and they are predicting we won't see 80s until later next week.
Not to mention they are predicting a warm fall and winter this year because of La Nina. Last year was so cold and lovely, from October though March, that I was sure we'd pay for it somehow. Well, summer has made that abundantly clear, the wretched brat, smotheringly, suffocatingly hot from one end of her iron reign to the other. I wish she'd take a long walk off a short pier...and not know how to swim.
I have been taking pleasures where I can get them: the Hallmark Ornament Premiere in mid-July, the appearance of fall garlands and then picks and things in Hobby Lobby in late June to early July (I can't help burying my face in them and giving them a hug), the Christmas crafts dotting the pathways at the Yellow Daisy Festival, the appearance of October dates on upcoming events calendars—and now the joy of the Christmas issue of Early American Life, the fall issue of the Vermont Country Store catalog, and Christmas craft magazines in the stands. And as a bonus an "it's like Christmas!" visit from a friend. When end-of-fiscal-year mania was at its peak—and this year with the recovery act funds in the mix it's been particularly egregious—I would retreat into instrumental Christmas carols. It's definitely music to soothe the savage "beast" of summer.
So while it's poppin' hot outside and annoyingly aggravating at the office—compounded by the fact we haven't had any hot water there for over four weeks now!—I'm trying to keep it cool and wintry...or perhaps I mean cool and "autumn-y"...in my heart.
It's definitely a hard slog and there have been tears.
Let go, you wretched witch of summer! Begone!
Not to mention they are predicting a warm fall and winter this year because of La Nina. Last year was so cold and lovely, from October though March, that I was sure we'd pay for it somehow. Well, summer has made that abundantly clear, the wretched brat, smotheringly, suffocatingly hot from one end of her iron reign to the other. I wish she'd take a long walk off a short pier...and not know how to swim.
I have been taking pleasures where I can get them: the Hallmark Ornament Premiere in mid-July, the appearance of fall garlands and then picks and things in Hobby Lobby in late June to early July (I can't help burying my face in them and giving them a hug), the Christmas crafts dotting the pathways at the Yellow Daisy Festival, the appearance of October dates on upcoming events calendars—and now the joy of the Christmas issue of Early American Life, the fall issue of the Vermont Country Store catalog, and Christmas craft magazines in the stands. And as a bonus an "it's like Christmas!" visit from a friend. When end-of-fiscal-year mania was at its peak—and this year with the recovery act funds in the mix it's been particularly egregious—I would retreat into instrumental Christmas carols. It's definitely music to soothe the savage "beast" of summer.
So while it's poppin' hot outside and annoyingly aggravating at the office—compounded by the fact we haven't had any hot water there for over four weeks now!—I'm trying to keep it cool and wintry...or perhaps I mean cool and "autumn-y"...in my heart.
It's definitely a hard slog and there have been tears.
Let go, you wretched witch of summer! Begone!
09 August 2010
She Made It Christmas
Patricia Neal has died.
This noted character actress, known for her smoky voice and often gritty roles, played in many famous theatrical films, including Hud, The Subject Was Roses, and A Face in the Crowd, and her private struggles were almost as famous as her roles: in the 1960s she suffered a severe stroke and had to learn to do the simplest things again.
For me, Neal will always be remembered as Olivia Walton in The Homecoming. While Michael Learned made the character famous, it was Neal’s arresting performance that first defined her. True, Neal not only was older than the Olivia character, who should have been about thirty-six or –seven, but the after-effects of the stroke made her seem older than her forty-five years. However, she personified not only the strict but caring Depression-era mother who knew what it was like to struggle to keep her family clothed and fed, hiding her sorrow that “Santa Claus” could not deliver the gifts she wanted to give her children. However "tough" that Michael Learned played the role of Olivia in the television series (and Learned was noticably more strict in the early seasons), she never quite captured the bleakness that Neal’s Olivia must face each day with a husband away all week earning a meager living, scraping together food to feed her growing, hungry children, losing sleep to knit scarves into the evening so that each of those children would have some sort of Christmas gift under the tree. But then The Homecoming was always more gritty than the series (the novel grittier still) and Neal fit into that aspect with perfection, like Dorothea Lange’s 1930s "migrant mother" photo come to life.
Good night, Miss Neal.
This noted character actress, known for her smoky voice and often gritty roles, played in many famous theatrical films, including Hud, The Subject Was Roses, and A Face in the Crowd, and her private struggles were almost as famous as her roles: in the 1960s she suffered a severe stroke and had to learn to do the simplest things again.
For me, Neal will always be remembered as Olivia Walton in The Homecoming. While Michael Learned made the character famous, it was Neal’s arresting performance that first defined her. True, Neal not only was older than the Olivia character, who should have been about thirty-six or –seven, but the after-effects of the stroke made her seem older than her forty-five years. However, she personified not only the strict but caring Depression-era mother who knew what it was like to struggle to keep her family clothed and fed, hiding her sorrow that “Santa Claus” could not deliver the gifts she wanted to give her children. However "tough" that Michael Learned played the role of Olivia in the television series (and Learned was noticably more strict in the early seasons), she never quite captured the bleakness that Neal’s Olivia must face each day with a husband away all week earning a meager living, scraping together food to feed her growing, hungry children, losing sleep to knit scarves into the evening so that each of those children would have some sort of Christmas gift under the tree. But then The Homecoming was always more gritty than the series (the novel grittier still) and Neal fit into that aspect with perfection, like Dorothea Lange’s 1930s "migrant mother" photo come to life.
Good night, Miss Neal.
04 April 2010
Easter Is...Peace
We are spending a quiet day after our busy one yesterday, all the busier since we were both up late: James was down in the "man cave," and I was on chat. Near the end of chat, when the conversation was getting spotty, I went to the Android Market to find a couple more games. I'm not much on games, but I like to have something for lines or mindless waits. I found a Bejeweled clone that's themed for Christmas that had an extra fillip, and something akin to "Cash Cow" called Color Drips. Then I found the demo version of "Space Physics." OMG, best game ever. I want the full version.
I was playing the ten demo levels until after 3 a.m.!
We had a leisurely breakfast this morning while I posted an Easter card on my main blog and surveyed Facebook, and we listened to this week's "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," then at lunchtime I put Here Comes Peter Cottontail on. I love the songs in this one, especially "Puzzle of Life" and "If I Could Only Get Back to Yesterday."
The show, in its entirety:
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 1
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 2
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 3
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 4
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 5
At this point James retreated down into the "man cave" and I put on The Easter Promise. Here is a short clip from this third Addie Mills story. The stories take place in the fictional "Clear River," Nebraska, and Jean Simmons plays Constance Payne, the local girl who "made good" as a Broadway actress. But she has proven a disappointment so far to Addie and her friends after she shows up at their style show drunk. Here Constance tries to make up for her gaffe by giving the girls dramatic lessons:
Clip from The Easter Promise
(In the story James brings home pussy willows, which I wrote about in a previous post.)
Now I am listening to a December "This Week in Tech" podcast (speculating about the just-released iPad!)
[Later: put on some music and finished Jesus, Interrupted. We had ham steak and rice pilaf for supper, with ice cream for dessert. Had a few laughs from American's Funniest Home Videos, then watched the "Birds" and "Deep Sea Creatures" installments of Life.]
I was playing the ten demo levels until after 3 a.m.!
We had a leisurely breakfast this morning while I posted an Easter card on my main blog and surveyed Facebook, and we listened to this week's "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," then at lunchtime I put Here Comes Peter Cottontail on. I love the songs in this one, especially "Puzzle of Life" and "If I Could Only Get Back to Yesterday."
The show, in its entirety:
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 1
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 2
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 3
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 4
Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1970) Part 5
At this point James retreated down into the "man cave" and I put on The Easter Promise. Here is a short clip from this third Addie Mills story. The stories take place in the fictional "Clear River," Nebraska, and Jean Simmons plays Constance Payne, the local girl who "made good" as a Broadway actress. But she has proven a disappointment so far to Addie and her friends after she shows up at their style show drunk. Here Constance tries to make up for her gaffe by giving the girls dramatic lessons:
Clip from The Easter Promise
(In the story James brings home pussy willows, which I wrote about in a previous post.)
Now I am listening to a December "This Week in Tech" podcast (speculating about the just-released iPad!)
[Later: put on some music and finished Jesus, Interrupted. We had ham steak and rice pilaf for supper, with ice cream for dessert. Had a few laughs from American's Funniest Home Videos, then watched the "Birds" and "Deep Sea Creatures" installments of Life.]
20 March 2010
Pussy Willows
We love trotting through Trader Joe's, seeing the different varieties of food, sampling whatever is in the back, having a cold sip of water from the cooler. The cashiers are more relaxed than at a grocery store, and lining the windows in front of the store are seasonal plants.
Today they had a short line of three pussy willow plants in the window. Coupled with the first day of spring, it was enough of a nudge into the past. I petted one of the little silver-and-grey catkins, having done it dozens of years and dozens of times in the past.
One of the first signs of spring when I was a kid was of my Uncle Guido showing up at the back door with a big bunch of pussy willows in his hand. They were for my mother, ever the plant lover, with the philodendron plant in a ceramic dish in the living room carefully nursed year after year, the rose bush ruthlessly pruned back every winter always to resurrect in crimson blooms in June, the "bridal veil bush" which bloomed in tiny white flowers and gave us flower petal "snow" when the blooms were blown, and Mother's azaleas, huge bushes on each side of the front steps, which blossomed vivid pink right around Mother's Day.
Mom would take the pussy willow stems and put them in a big glass vase reserved usually just for them. I was allergic to anything that bloomed and the pussy willows were the only thing that didn't make me sneeze. When Dad bought Mom roses for Mother's Day, they had to stay out on the back porch. But the pussy willows I could enjoy, and pet as if they were tiny grey kittens.
Uncle Guido spent his whole life with plants. For years he was a landscaper at the Alpine Country Club. When he wasn't making his living with botanical items, he was tending a big vegetable garden in the rear of his house, and every year as long as he was well, he would buy marigolds and argeratums (the "fuzzy purple flowers," I called them) and red salvias and pansies and plant them in the dormant beds in front of our house for Mom to baby and tend and water for the rest of the summer. Unlike me, he was unafraid of earthworms and the creepy-crawlies in the dirt, and, as he knelt in the soft grass that edged the flower beds, his calloused hands would take up each tender little plant from its tiny cup and lovingly set it into the soil, tamping it around the stem so it remained upright, facing the sun.
Uncle Guido left to work in another Garden last May, at the age of 91, but the sight of pussy willows will always remind me of him.
Today they had a short line of three pussy willow plants in the window. Coupled with the first day of spring, it was enough of a nudge into the past. I petted one of the little silver-and-grey catkins, having done it dozens of years and dozens of times in the past.
One of the first signs of spring when I was a kid was of my Uncle Guido showing up at the back door with a big bunch of pussy willows in his hand. They were for my mother, ever the plant lover, with the philodendron plant in a ceramic dish in the living room carefully nursed year after year, the rose bush ruthlessly pruned back every winter always to resurrect in crimson blooms in June, the "bridal veil bush" which bloomed in tiny white flowers and gave us flower petal "snow" when the blooms were blown, and Mother's azaleas, huge bushes on each side of the front steps, which blossomed vivid pink right around Mother's Day.
Mom would take the pussy willow stems and put them in a big glass vase reserved usually just for them. I was allergic to anything that bloomed and the pussy willows were the only thing that didn't make me sneeze. When Dad bought Mom roses for Mother's Day, they had to stay out on the back porch. But the pussy willows I could enjoy, and pet as if they were tiny grey kittens.
Uncle Guido spent his whole life with plants. For years he was a landscaper at the Alpine Country Club. When he wasn't making his living with botanical items, he was tending a big vegetable garden in the rear of his house, and every year as long as he was well, he would buy marigolds and argeratums (the "fuzzy purple flowers," I called them) and red salvias and pansies and plant them in the dormant beds in front of our house for Mom to baby and tend and water for the rest of the summer. Unlike me, he was unafraid of earthworms and the creepy-crawlies in the dirt, and, as he knelt in the soft grass that edged the flower beds, his calloused hands would take up each tender little plant from its tiny cup and lovingly set it into the soil, tamping it around the stem so it remained upright, facing the sun.
Uncle Guido left to work in another Garden last May, at the age of 91, but the sight of pussy willows will always remind me of him.
19 March 2010
Buona Festa di San Guiseppe!
A baker's "half dozen" of St. Joseph's Day articles!
Zeppole Are Just Part of the Family business at DeLuise Bakery
Italian Eyes are Smiling as St. Joseph's Day Approaches
Chicago's La Madia Celebrates St. Joseph's Day
Thanking St. Joseph With Pasta, Pastries and Prayers
Chiff.com's St. Joseph's Day Article and Links
Celebrate St. Joseph's Day With Zeppole
Celebrate St. Joseph Feast Italian Way
Zeppole Are Just Part of the Family business at DeLuise Bakery
Italian Eyes are Smiling as St. Joseph's Day Approaches
Chicago's La Madia Celebrates St. Joseph's Day
Thanking St. Joseph With Pasta, Pastries and Prayers
Chiff.com's St. Joseph's Day Article and Links
Celebrate St. Joseph's Day With Zeppole
Celebrate St. Joseph Feast Italian Way
06 March 2010
End of the Trail
A sad day today: I got rid of the snow on my Farmville acreage. :-)
I also started taking down the rest of the Valentines Day decor (I took the porch items down last week, but then had a relapse and ran out of energy again) and the winter decor. The kitchen and dining room are back to normal and most of the living room is cleared. Still have the divider, the foyer, and the porch to go. The front door wreath is ready, at least.
The Bradford pear trees are beginning to bloom, too.
As I've said elsewhere, I can't quibble with this winter. It's been nice and chilly. We even lucked out at the Apple Festival last October. Last! It seems like just yesterday...the days just went by too fast!
I also started taking down the rest of the Valentines Day decor (I took the porch items down last week, but then had a relapse and ran out of energy again) and the winter decor. The kitchen and dining room are back to normal and most of the living room is cleared. Still have the divider, the foyer, and the porch to go. The front door wreath is ready, at least.
The Bradford pear trees are beginning to bloom, too.
As I've said elsewhere, I can't quibble with this winter. It's been nice and chilly. We even lucked out at the Apple Festival last October. Last! It seems like just yesterday...the days just went by too fast!
21 February 2010
Winter's End?
It was in the low 60s yesterday, and mid-/upper-60s today. Today's actually quite pretty, blue and very bright. I have all the windows open as I type and the birds occasionally interject commentary.
Friday I saw some light-green buds on some bushes on the way to Kroger, and yesterday we noted buds on the Bradford pear trees. Today as we came past one of the houses on our usual route home, one with a stone retaining wall next to the driveway, we noted that the phlox plant on the wall is in bloom. So spring is on its way, but we still have a week of 50s and 40s to look forward to.
Friday I saw some light-green buds on some bushes on the way to Kroger, and yesterday we noted buds on the Bradford pear trees. Today as we came past one of the houses on our usual route home, one with a stone retaining wall next to the driveway, we noted that the phlox plant on the wall is in bloom. So spring is on its way, but we still have a week of 50s and 40s to look forward to.
15 February 2010
My Snurgly Valentine
I had a cold over Valentine's Day, so it wasn't the fluffy romantic day that most women might have wanted. I was feeling pretty wretched, to be honest.
When I was feeling better on Friday, however, I got a bee in my bonnet about the game night. I had looked in the stores for old-fashioned Valentine cards like this one.
But everything I saw was media-based. Instead, I noted the little Valentine card kit I bought at Michaels last year. Along with some cute animal stickers, I made handmade cards for each person. I also made a Valentine card for James with an original verse inside. It was fun. I should do projects like this more often.
No pics, sorry. These were little cards, and the stickers were Suzy's Zoo cats and dogs and one bear.
When I was feeling better on Friday, however, I got a bee in my bonnet about the game night. I had looked in the stores for old-fashioned Valentine cards like this one.
But everything I saw was media-based. Instead, I noted the little Valentine card kit I bought at Michaels last year. Along with some cute animal stickers, I made handmade cards for each person. I also made a Valentine card for James with an original verse inside. It was fun. I should do projects like this more often.
No pics, sorry. These were little cards, and the stickers were Suzy's Zoo cats and dogs and one bear.
02 February 2010
Shadows and Sunshine
Looks like ol' Punxsatawney Phil has seen his shadow, so the Northeast supposedly will have six more weeks of winter, while General "Beau" Lee did not, which means spring is in the offing. Whatever. We're supposed to get gallons more rain on Thursday and Friday, just a normal winter day in the south.
I've been quiet since Epiphany...just nothing to say. My after-Christmas ennui seems to get worse each year.
Couldn't burn a candle today for Candlemas, so will try to do so tomorrow. My "roasted coffee" candles are almost at an end. Must get more, or the cafè au lait ones. Nothing is as soothing as the smell of brewing coffee.
We are supposed to have a game night next Saturday. The Valentine decorations should be up by then and I hope to do a minor Valentine theme. That should be fun. The day before our game night is the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics. We missed most of this last time because of moving, so I'm hoping to enjoy all that snow this year!
I've been quiet since Epiphany...just nothing to say. My after-Christmas ennui seems to get worse each year.
Couldn't burn a candle today for Candlemas, so will try to do so tomorrow. My "roasted coffee" candles are almost at an end. Must get more, or the cafè au lait ones. Nothing is as soothing as the smell of brewing coffee.
We are supposed to have a game night next Saturday. The Valentine decorations should be up by then and I hope to do a minor Valentine theme. That should be fun. The day before our game night is the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics. We missed most of this last time because of moving, so I'm hoping to enjoy all that snow this year!
06 January 2010
Farewell, Christmas
It never seems to last long enough—not just Christmas, but that whole golden season that starts with a glimpse of fun to come: DragonCon, Yellow Daisy Festival, even Blue Ribbon Affair, as small as it has gotten. Then the air starts to chill and the real fun starts: the Apple Festival, vacation, preparing for Thanksgiving and then for Christmas, days that go by in a twinkling on enchanted wings.
Our party is Saturday, and of course a few bright lights will shine: Valentines Day, Atomicon, Timegate on Memorial Day weekend, but otherwise it's all downhill from here. First it will get warm, then the pine pollen will choke us for weeks and blanket the landscape with its dirty, gritty yellowness, then the flowers will bloom along with allergies...and then it will be...ugh...summer and then, even worse, end of fiscal year (misery doubled).
Pretty lights. Pretty tinsel. Pretty music. Lights, fun, frolic. Cool, sweet air.
Ah, well, maybe the snow will come through tomorrow...
Our party is Saturday, and of course a few bright lights will shine: Valentines Day, Atomicon, Timegate on Memorial Day weekend, but otherwise it's all downhill from here. First it will get warm, then the pine pollen will choke us for weeks and blanket the landscape with its dirty, gritty yellowness, then the flowers will bloom along with allergies...and then it will be...ugh...summer and then, even worse, end of fiscal year (misery doubled).
Pretty lights. Pretty tinsel. Pretty music. Lights, fun, frolic. Cool, sweet air.
Ah, well, maybe the snow will come through tomorrow...
04 January 2010
CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW: Christmas on the Home Front
by Mike Brown
This is a fabulous book I found in the Hamilton Books catalog; even more fab because the homefront they are speaking of is the British one, not the American. This easy-read of a history book portrays each Christmas from 1939 through 1944, with a postscript for 1945, with personal remembrances, recipes and advert excerpts, and even reports of what pantomimes, BBC Christmas Day programming, and sports were conducted during each Christmas season. As the years progress, you can see the decline in foods for feasting and goods for giving due to wartime rationing. The super bonus about this book are the photos and especially the period adverts and cartoons from newspapers and even the famous "Beano" peppering the text: everything from companies reminding people that their product will be back after the war to recipes for "mock goose" and "wartime mincemeat pies," dinners colored with colorful veg instead of fruits and instructions for home-made gifts like pin-on mascots made of knitting yarn. Super look at wartime Britain!
This is a fabulous book I found in the Hamilton Books catalog; even more fab because the homefront they are speaking of is the British one, not the American. This easy-read of a history book portrays each Christmas from 1939 through 1944, with a postscript for 1945, with personal remembrances, recipes and advert excerpts, and even reports of what pantomimes, BBC Christmas Day programming, and sports were conducted during each Christmas season. As the years progress, you can see the decline in foods for feasting and goods for giving due to wartime rationing. The super bonus about this book are the photos and especially the period adverts and cartoons from newspapers and even the famous "Beano" peppering the text: everything from companies reminding people that their product will be back after the war to recipes for "mock goose" and "wartime mincemeat pies," dinners colored with colorful veg instead of fruits and instructions for home-made gifts like pin-on mascots made of knitting yarn. Super look at wartime Britain!
02 January 2010
C is for Christmas Convocations (Continued)
We spent the rest of New Year's Day relaxing. I finished all my Christmas magazines—Victorian Homes was beautiful as always (and lots of simple decorating ideas) as well as Early American Life Christmas; the British Country Living was also quite nice, with articles about people who have Christmas-oriented businesses, like Christmas tree farms, and I even picked up the British Country Homes which had some very simple, pleasant decorations, like using red-and-white towels (no Christmas designs needed) to emphasize the Christmas theme; Cottages and Bungalows looked nice, but was a bit disappointing, with too many pale things; oh, and I bought O Magazine because Ellen made such a fuss to get on the cover, but sad to say I found it a little dull, with too much fashion—and we watched various things we'd recorded, like Conquest.
[Re O—when I was in Barnes & Noble the other day, I saw a British magazine called Women and Home. I have one of these from the 1980s, and have kept it because of the fascinating British-life articles, including a story about a woman who was an embroiderer who did robes for the Archbishop of Canterbury, with photos of a beautiful Pentecost robe with the "flaming tongues." I was so disappointed when I looked at the newest version: slick, glossy, like Cosmo and O, with lots of ads and articles about makeup and makeovers and fashion and clothing—ugh...nothing unique about it at all. How sad.]
Today we went down to Warner Robins to visit James' mom and sisters, and also his youngest sister and her husband, who were visiting from South Carolina. Between James' work schedule and Mom's work schedule, this was the first day we could get together; we even had to miss James' niece Nicki, who had to go home earlier in the week.
It was a nice, sunny day, but also very cold for Georgia: when we left it was in the 20s but with the wind chill making it feel like the teens. We made a slight detour to go by the hobby shop and bring Rusty a Christmas gift: a Confederate calendar with artwork done by Mort Kuntsler, who started out doing art on model boxes. Then we got on the freeway and headed south. Despite the new "Super Speeder" law, many people were just zipping along at the speed of light. Many "snowbirds" going down to the Kingdom of the Mouse, we assume, including a New York van that was simply encrusted with salt from top to tire. Once I was out of Virginia I would have run that thing through a car wash. My dad tried to get his car washed every week during snow season; the salt is terribly corrosive.
We stopped in Jonesboro at the complex where BJs/Books-a-Million is, to hit Wendys for something to eat. Well, yeah, we also went into the bookstore. I found the January Country Extra (more snow photos!)—no more until fall now—and a Robert Fulghum book I didn't even know existed from the $3 last chance shelf. Haven't read any Fulghum in ages.
Arrived at Mom's a little after noon. Instead of making dinner, we had little finger foods—chicken wings, veggie and fruit tray items, the peanut pork rolls James made, pigs-in-blankets, little meatballs, etc.—and watched NCIS while waiting for James' younger sister and her husband all afternoon (they just moved and their clothes dryer wasn't working properly). I've seen NCIS before—it was a show my mom liked and reruns were a godsend the six weeks I was up there in May 2005 (along with the various permutations of CSI) since she had no cable and I absolutely loathe reality shows—but I think that's the most I've ever watched of the series at one time. I love Abby! And of course "Ducky" (heck, I remember when all the girls swooned over David McCallum back when he was in The Man From UNCLE).
We headed home about 7:30 and didn't get home until wayyyyyyyy after ten because of 20 stupid miles between the Tanger Outlets and the split to I-675. It was stupid because there were no more cars on the road as there had been south of Tanger, but there it was the speed limit and whap! at Tanger it was stop-and-go until a half mile before the split. A lot of traffic went off right to the split, but in reality it looked like "poof!"—block gone! What a pain!
So home again and chatting...
[Re O—when I was in Barnes & Noble the other day, I saw a British magazine called Women and Home. I have one of these from the 1980s, and have kept it because of the fascinating British-life articles, including a story about a woman who was an embroiderer who did robes for the Archbishop of Canterbury, with photos of a beautiful Pentecost robe with the "flaming tongues." I was so disappointed when I looked at the newest version: slick, glossy, like Cosmo and O, with lots of ads and articles about makeup and makeovers and fashion and clothing—ugh...nothing unique about it at all. How sad.]
Today we went down to Warner Robins to visit James' mom and sisters, and also his youngest sister and her husband, who were visiting from South Carolina. Between James' work schedule and Mom's work schedule, this was the first day we could get together; we even had to miss James' niece Nicki, who had to go home earlier in the week.
It was a nice, sunny day, but also very cold for Georgia: when we left it was in the 20s but with the wind chill making it feel like the teens. We made a slight detour to go by the hobby shop and bring Rusty a Christmas gift: a Confederate calendar with artwork done by Mort Kuntsler, who started out doing art on model boxes. Then we got on the freeway and headed south. Despite the new "Super Speeder" law, many people were just zipping along at the speed of light. Many "snowbirds" going down to the Kingdom of the Mouse, we assume, including a New York van that was simply encrusted with salt from top to tire. Once I was out of Virginia I would have run that thing through a car wash. My dad tried to get his car washed every week during snow season; the salt is terribly corrosive.
We stopped in Jonesboro at the complex where BJs/Books-a-Million is, to hit Wendys for something to eat. Well, yeah, we also went into the bookstore. I found the January Country Extra (more snow photos!)—no more until fall now—and a Robert Fulghum book I didn't even know existed from the $3 last chance shelf. Haven't read any Fulghum in ages.
Arrived at Mom's a little after noon. Instead of making dinner, we had little finger foods—chicken wings, veggie and fruit tray items, the peanut pork rolls James made, pigs-in-blankets, little meatballs, etc.—and watched NCIS while waiting for James' younger sister and her husband all afternoon (they just moved and their clothes dryer wasn't working properly). I've seen NCIS before—it was a show my mom liked and reruns were a godsend the six weeks I was up there in May 2005 (along with the various permutations of CSI) since she had no cable and I absolutely loathe reality shows—but I think that's the most I've ever watched of the series at one time. I love Abby! And of course "Ducky" (heck, I remember when all the girls swooned over David McCallum back when he was in The Man From UNCLE).
We headed home about 7:30 and didn't get home until wayyyyyyyy after ten because of 20 stupid miles between the Tanger Outlets and the split to I-675. It was stupid because there were no more cars on the road as there had been south of Tanger, but there it was the speed limit and whap! at Tanger it was stop-and-go until a half mile before the split. A lot of traffic went off right to the split, but in reality it looked like "poof!"—block gone! What a pain!
So home again and chatting...
01 January 2010
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