An Autumn Sojourn

It wasn't a willing one, but at least part of it was pleasant!

I took my Thanksgiving leave a little bit differently this year, so that I was at work today. In hindsight, this may have been a mistake, as many people take Wednesday off and leave early on Tuesday. The roads were already a wreck by two o'clock and by quitting time the traffic map online was turning colors not seen in nature. (Who knew there was a redder red for hopelessly snarled traffic? I didn't want to see it turn purple!) So naturally I had to come home via surface streets.

The weather had been unpleasantly warm and still at lunchtime when I emerged from the building (thankfully the sun was mostly obscured by clouds or it would have been much warmer than the mid 70s), but a breeze was building up by the time lunch was over, tossing pine straw and the odd acorn from the trees. The breeze was still playing about the fading leaves as I left work.

This surface-street route takes a while, but is generally rewarding. The first part of the route takes me through Dresden Drive, which is now a mix of older homes and new development. The streets were already outlined with rows of brittle, brown leaves, with a broken line of crushed leaves in the center of the road.

Once having crossed Peachtree Road, I am in my favorite portion of the ride, driving through the Brookhaven neighborhood. Again, this is an old neighborhood where older homes are gradually being remodeled or struck down for newer homes. The designs are varied, from low ranch homes to one French plantation reproduction, to saltbox or Georgian-fronted edifices. My favorite are the stone and brick houses that look to me like English hunting lodges. I have one in particular I'm very fond of, in a warm, dark brown stone, and it looks like it's finally been purchased. Oh, how I would love to decorate it, especially at Christmas, imagining it in holly swags and wreaths with bright red ribbons! I love my home, but I've never gotten over my "English hunting lodge" envy (or my Craftsman home envy, either). Here again, the gutters were overflowing with thick ribbons of browning leaves, as I left Brookhaven and drove along Windsor Road and finally into Chastain Park.

By now the sky was grey and lowering. The autumn color has definitely faded everywhere, and Chastain Park was merely an obstacle course of speed bumps and cars jockeying for parking spaces for an after-work walk. The final pleasant part of the ride was down Mount Paran Road, where a few more "English hunting lodges" were passed—including the one with the waterfall out front! "Mr. Inflatable," our name for the guy on the corner of the pretentious neighborhood near the end of Mount Paran, appeared not to have his decorations out yet, and had nothing for Thanksgiving! However, one big white house was already decked out with thousands of white lights and snowflake-shaped light ornaments, which shone out brightly as it became darker.

Then it started to rain and the rest of the sojourn was more like a miserable trudge for the car, while I roasted inside (since I had to close the windows) until I finally surrendered and put the air conditioner on.

Old Advent

Did you know that at one time the season of Advent was as long as Lent?

Where Lent was a preparation period for Easter, so Advent was for Christmas. For forty days, starting on November 15, you were to meditate on the idea of the son of God coming to earth as an ordinary baby, to grow as all men did. Not an omnipotent God from on high, but a regular man who needed physical sustenance to survive, a mother's love, a father's guidance, friends to play with, as well as the awareness of his own purpose. The long days of Advent are there for us to ponder that miracle and that of our own existence.

More than likely many have been preparing for Christmas already, from the first time the hint of a Christmas commercial—the Glade Christmas candle ads began in mid-October!—started a frantic routine of buying gifts, getting a jump on holiday menus, decorating the home. But is that what Christmas is really all about? I for one love buying or making gifts for those I love. I have friends whose very delight is to deck every house corner with Chritmas color and glow and glitter. Others I know take pleasure in baking days to provide a lovely spread on their dining table. And there it is all well and good, have you the funds and the energy to do so.

But so much of Christmas appears to be an obligatory one if one is to believe not only the advertising rammed at you from every corner but the yearly complaints from every quarter...you MUST buy this gift to show love, you MUST make this cake and those cookies decorated just so to be the perfect hostess, your decorations must be of a certain caliber.

Whether or not you also celebrate Christmas as the birth of a Savior or just as a secular feast, Christmas is about LOVE. Not the quantity of the gifts or the food, but about the love shown by sharing, whether food, gifts, or yourself. Let Advent be your time to prepare for a Christmas that you love, then enjoy Christmastide itself, not just December 25, but the rest of the holiday as well. Think, plan, consider, read, meditate, pray if you so choose...but enjoy!

You Know That Old Myth About Suicides and the Holidays?

It's just that, a myth.

From Health.com: "Most people think the winter holidays are a risky time, but suicides are lowest in December and peak in the spring."

Classic Thanksgiving Commercials

Just to get you in the mood:

MetLife "Peanuts" Commercial

Meijer "Grandma" Commercial

Publix "Head of the Table"

Publix "Leaves"

and the classic:

Publix "Salt and Pepper Shakers"

"Ghosts"

Fannie Stearns Davis

I am almost afraid of the wind out there.
The dead leaves skip on the porches bare,
The windows clatter and whine.
I sit here in the quiet house. low-lit.
With the clock that ticks and the books that stand.
Wise and silent, on every hand.

I am almost afraid; though I know the night
Lets no ghosts walk in the warm lamplight.
Yet ghosts there are; and they blow, they blow,
Out in the wind and the scattering snow.-
When I open the windows and go to bed,
Will the ghosts come In and stand at my head?

Last night I dreamed they came back again.
I heard them talking; I saw them plain.
They hugged me and held me and loved me; spoke
Of happy doings and friendly folk.
They seemed to have journeyed a week away,
but now they were ready and glad to stay.

But, oh, if they came on the wind to-night
Could I bear their faces, their garments white
Blown in the dark around my lonely bed?
Oh, could I forgive them for being dead?
I am almost afraid of the wind. My shame!
That I would not be glad if my dear ones came!

Turn by Turn by Turning

It rained today, mostly a drizzle which left everything damp and grey. The interstate traffic maps were a horror of warning colors, so I took surface streets home.

The upside to this was that I wandered hither and yon through tree-filled neighborhoods and got a preview of peak color (or at least as peak as Georgia gets; we don't ordinarily get bright colors here—more muted tones). This area of the state has a high percentage of pine trees, and also trees that stay green pretty much until the leaves fall off, so the bits of color are more isolated glimpses than an all-over palette change.

As I noticed on Sunday, even further north in Ellijay, the maples have the brightest color this year, but have only a branch or two turning at the time, sometimes even the tips of the leaves only. The predominant color is yellow, except for the dogwood trees, which are in various stages of turning a rusty red color that looks like it's bleeding and puddling into the green. Occasionally, however, a collection of underbrush, like in the neighborhoods around Chastain Park, will beam brightly in the fall triumvirate of yellow, orange, and red, and a tree—again the maples—bursting with gold, russet, and scarlet, like the one standing guard outside the IBM complex off Cobb Parkway, occasionally coming into view to be greeted by choicest ooohs and ahhhs.

What some trees are blooming with most are Hallowe'en decorations: bats, ghosts, mummies, witches bashed into tree trunks. "Mr. Inflatable" on Mt. Paran Road is SRO on his front lawn: spooks, haunts, necromancers, and what looks like the Headless Horseman and I believe an inflatable hearse. The entire atmosphere was spooky on the way home anyway, low grey clouds, the occasional patter of raindrops, the creaking windshield wipers, the previously fallen leaves ground into a moist brownish-yellow paste at the roadside.

Let There Be Christmas Lights!

Thank you to the folks at Family Christmas Online for rescuing this website:

Antique Christmas Lights

Wonderful photos and information on the first electric light "outfits" for Christmas trees (replacing the so-flammable candles—except, as the site points out, some of the lights burned so hot that they were just as dangerous as candles), plus a page on vintage Christmas music taken from Edison cylinders, and even Christmas memories from readers of the web site.

Humorous Nostalgia

A classic ad:

Pizza Hut (Leftover Christmas Turkey) 1986

Rudolph Day, September 2011

Tis the Season TV by Joanna Wilson

This is a first, an exhaustive effort to chronicle every television special, movie, animated feature, and series episode from the advent of television to the present that has to do with December holidays (Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, etc.) and Christmastide. If you are a lover of these specials and series episodes, this is the volume for you, although the recommendation comes with several caveats.

First, it's not complete. Now, there are so many Yuletide media efforts it would have been more miraculous if Ms. Wilson had not skipped any of them. Nevertheless, she did skip at least one television film, the Keshia Knight-Pulliam vehicle The Little Match Girl, nor did I see Rick Steves' European Christmas and PBS's annual Christmas at St. Olaf and Christmas at King's College, although other PBS specials and cable channel specials are represented. There may be others missing; these are only the ones I saw.

Second, not all Christmas series episodes are described, and mistakes and misspellings appear in descriptions. For example, three Lassie Christmas episodes are not described, there is no description for the Knot's Landing Christmas episode, etc. Some of the description mistakes are very amusing if you are familiar with the series: for instance, in the description of The Waltons episode "The Children's Carol," Verdie is referred to as "Burdie"! There are other goofs like this.

Also, occasionally Wilson's descriptions are very stilted.

Still, I am impressed. This was a huge body of information to research, and it's very difficult to describe yet the twelfth or thirteenth Lawrence Welk Show Christmas episode or what happens in several decades of Bing Crosby or Bob Hope specials! It's my hope Ms. Wilson will get leave to do a second edition of this book and fix all the errors. A complete version of this work would be stunning.

As a nice, basic reference, this book cannot be beat.

Fall Creeps in On Little Cat Feet

Unfortunately for me, my favorite season arrives just as our busiest season at work is winding down. Sometimes it seems that there's little time for me to lift my eyes from my monitor or from the myriad of things I must do on weekends to note the seasons slowly shifting gear.

We could hardly credit it, but it seems Tropical Storm Lee, for all the damage it did other places, here "broke the back" of summer. We'd had 89 days of sizzling 90s during the summer (one more did turn up to break the record) and there seemed no end of it until Lee flipped the switch. Oh, this didn't mean it automatically made it cool. Temps are still, on average, hovering in the low 80s, which is common here in September. However, there have been odd days where the clouds have triumphed and it's been in the 70s, with a nice cool breeze coming from the north or northeast, and one golden day where it never got out of the high 60s.

In the end, the body knows when you need to slow down and it's given me a bit of a whack today: stuffed nose, lightheadedness, feeling as if I didn't sleep even when I did. So instead of at a desk, I am wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, heeding the brake imposed upon me.

Outside I can see what's been happening while my mind's been elsewhere: one of the trees in the yard is dotted with yellow leaves. There are other, crackled brown, strayed on the deck, and some bright red leaves on a tree in the yard next door. When we went shopping on Sunday, I marveled at how the trees lining the parking lot had changed: the tips of the maple leaves—indeed some of the whole leaves—have turned scarlet. Everywhere the dogwoods, which are the last to bloom and the first to turn, sport reddish leaves. In the parking lot at work, the roof of my car has been regularly thumped with falling acorns, which lie brown (and occasionally squashed) in clusters on the tarmac.

The last of the baby birds have fledged and gone their way, except for one young cardinal who sits on the feeder (and even occasionally feeds) and clings to his childhood, begging his mother or father to feed him (they oblige, with resignation it appears). Very soon the bluebirds will return to provide a piece of the sky on earth.

And, oh, the sky!—after a summer of insipid pale blue overlaid with a thin yellowish coating of smog and pollen, the sky is once again bright blue, painted with a feathery brush of ghost-white cirrus clouds. It's a preview of cool autumn days to come.

Rudolph Day, August 2011

Part of the delight of preparing for Christmas is the wonderful autumn season that precedes Christmastide. It is a blessing to know that the intense heat of summer will fade into the pleasant temperatures of autumn, and then one day a frost will tip the grass and leaves with silver-white in preparation for winter.

We call autumn our "social season." It starts before the simmering summer is over, during Labor Day weekend, when we partake of fannish fun at DragonCon. For four days we wander about a fantasy world filled with wizards, space pilots, pirates, alternative history "steampunk" characters, superheroes, actors, writers, artists, and more. The following weekend, usually warm, kicks off "fall": the Yellow Daisy Festival at Stone Mountain Park. This huge craft festival carries everything from cutesy kids' clothing to lawn furniture, foods to musical instruments, decorations made of everything from clay and glass to metal and wood, plus has performances and booths of dozens of kinds of food. We arrive at the opening hour and by the time it gets hideously hot, we are ready to leave, but usually have a grilled corn on the cob before we depart.

In October comes another craft festival, a recent discovery, the Georgia Apple Festival in Ellijay, GA, part of Georgia's apple country. While there are occasionally Yellow Daisy repeats, most of the vendors are completely different, and we come home with a peck of freshly-picked Granny Smith apples, delightfully tart to make your mouth pucker.

It is in the lovely weather in October and November in which we usually take our vacation. While temps may crawl into the unwelcome 70s during the height of the day, the evenings are cool and crisp, the perfect time for explorations outdoors.

It's also the time of year when we start up having game nights again. End of fiscal year is over with and we can relax. The house is swathed in fall decorations and looks inviting instead of burned out, ready to welcome friends. The "Mistletoe Mart" is held at the Cobb County Civic Center (too early, if you ask me) in October as well.

In November comes our wedding anniversary, and then one of my favorite holidays, Thanksgiving. I know folks who start decorating their homes for Christmas before Thanksgiving, simply because of the number of decorations they put up, but I simply can't do it. I love the idea of Thanksgiving—not all the "Pilgrims and Indians" tales, but the idea of sharing food and conversation with friends, the savory food and drink, the scents of cinnamon and apples and warm spice in the background. If it's cool enough, we might even have a fire in the fireplace.

But once Thanksgiving weekend is over, it's Christmas decorating in earnest! Plus there are more delights to come: the Apple Annie Craft Show at St. Ann's Church, the Atlanta Radio Theatre Company Christmas performance, and other holiday fun before Christmas even arrives, twelve days of visiting, a New Year's Eve party, and, to close out the season, our Twelfth Night party.

Rudolph Day, July 2011

"Rudolph Day" is a way of keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long. You can read a Christmas book, work on a Christmas craft project, listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.

I'm already collecting Christmas books for reading this year. Some are holdovers from last year, as I had quite a few things on last year's pile.

Santa, by Jeremy Seal, is a British book I heard about while listening to the author read it on BBC Radio 7 (now BBC Radio 4X). It's a whimsical look at the history of Santa Claus from his origins as St. Nicholas.

Another holdover from last year is a Mary Higgins Clark Christmas mystery book, Dashing Through the Snow. She has a half-dozen of these little Christmas mysteries; this will be my first.

Yet another holdover is Christmas 1945, which I wanted as soon as I saw it last year, but never managed to get to before the season was over. It's nonfiction about the first Christmas after the end of World War II.

Plus just recently I found a book I didn't even know about, Tis the Season TV, subtitled "The Encyclopedia of Christmas Themed Episodes, Specials and Made-for-TV Movies," by Joanna Wilson. How could I resist? (I wonder if she's going to put out a second edition; I have descriptions for all the Lassie episodes she only had titles for. :-)

(I may not wait for Christmas to start the latter. It's like a bag of peanuts just begging to be eaten.)

Happy Independence Day!

Happy birthday to the United States of America! It's a day of picnics, gatherings, fireworks, and fun. It's also a day to think about our past and hope and work for the future.

I included this next postcard because I was thinking of all those old children's books, like Eight Cousins and The Bobbsey Twins in the Country where the children get together and put on a little patriotic parade. The pertinent chapter from the latter serves as a demonstration of what children worked up for themselves, without adult intervention, in the early 20th century.

CHAPTER IX

FOURTH OF JULY

The day following the picnic was July third, and as the Meadow Brook children were pretty well tired out from romping in the woods, they were glad of a day's rest before entering upon the festivities of Independence Day.

"How much have you got?" Tom Mason asked the Bobbsey boys.

"Fifty cents together, twenty-five cents each," Harry announced.

"Well, I've got thirty-five, and we had better get our stuff early, for Stimpson sold out before noon last year," concluded Tom.

"I have to get torpedoes for Freddie and Flossie, and Chinese fire-crackers for Nan," Bert remarked, as they started for the little country grocery store.

"I guess I'll buy a few snakes, they look so funny coiling out," Tom said.

"I'm going to have sky rockets and Roman candles. Everybody said they were the prettiest last year," said Harry.

"If they have red fire I must get some of it for the girls," thoughtful Bert remarked.

But at the store the boys had to take just what they could get, as Stimpson's supply was very limited.

"Let's make up a parade!" someone suggested, and this being agreed upon the boys started a canvass from house to house, to get all the boys along Meadow Brook road to take part in the procession.

"Can the little ones come too?" August Stout asked, because he always had to look out for his small brother when there was any danger like fireworks around.

"Yes, and we're goin' to let the girls march in a division by themselves," Bert told him. "My sister Nan is going to be captain, and we'll leave all the girls' parts to her."

"Be sure and bring your flag," Harry cautioned Jack Hopkins.

"How would the goat wagons do?" Jack asked.

"Fine; we could let Roy and Freddie ride in them." said Bert. "Tell any of the other fellows who have goat teams to bring them along too."

"Eight o'clock sharp at our lane," Harry told them for the place and time of meeting. Then they went along to finish the arrangements.

"Don't tell the boys," Nan whispered to Mildred, as they too made their way to Stimpson's.

"Won't they be surprised?" exclaimed Mabel.

"Yes, and I am going to carry a real Betsy Ross flag, one with thirteen stars, you know."

"Oh, yes, Betsy Ross made the first flag, didn't she?" remarked Mildred, trying to catch up on history.

"We'll have ten big girls," Nan counted. "Then with Flossie as Liberty we will want Bessie and Nettie for her assistants."

"Attendants," Mabel corrected, for she had seen a city parade like that once.

It was a busy day for everybody, and when Mr. Bobbsey came up on the train from Lakeport that evening he carried boxes and boxes of fireworks for the boys and girls, and even some for the grown folks too.

The girls could hardly sleep that night, they were so excited over their part, but the boys of course were used to that sort of thing, and only slept sounder with the fun in prospect.

"Are you awake, Bert?" called Harry, so early the next morning that the sun was hardly up yet.

"Yep," replied the cousin, jumping out of bed and hastily dressing for the firing of the first gun.

The boys crept through the house very quietly, then ran to the barn for their ammunition. Three big giant fire-crackers were placed in the road directly in front of the house.

"Be careful!" whispered Bert; "they're full of powder."

But Harry was always careful with fireworks, and when he touched the fuses to the "cannons" he made away quickly before they exploded.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Hurrah!" shouted Freddie, answering the call from his window, "I'll be right down!"

All the others too were aroused by the first "guns," so that in a very short time there were many boys in the road, firing so many kinds of fire-crackers that Meadow Brook resounded like a real war fort under fire.

"Ouch!" yelled Tom Mason, the first one to bum his fingers. "A sisser caught me right on the thumb."

But such small accidents were not given much attention, and soon Tom was lighting the little red crackers as merrily as before.

"Go on back, girls!" called Bert. "You'll get your dresses burnt if you don't."

The girls were coming too near the battlements then, and Bert did well to warn them off.

Freddie and Flossie were having a great time throwing their little torpedoes at Mr. Bobbsey and Uncle Daniel, who were seated on the piazza watching the sport. Snoop and Fluffy too came in for a scare, for Freddie tossed a couple of torpedoes on the kitchen hearth where the kittens were sleeping.

The boys were having such fun they could hardly be induced to come in for breakfast, but they finally did stop long enough to eat a spare meal.

"It's time to get ready!" whispered Nan to Bert, for the parade had been kept secret from the grown folks.

At the girls' place of meeting, the coach house, Nan found all her company waiting and anxious to dress.

"Just tie your scarfs loose under your left arm," ordered Captain Nan, and the girls quickly obeyed like true cadets. The broad red-white-and-blue bunting was very pretty over the girls' white dresses, and indeed the "cadets" looked as if they would outdo the "regulars" unless the boys too had surprises in store.

"Where's Nettie?" suddenly asked Nan, missing a poor little girl who had been invited.

"She wouldn't come because she had no white dress," Mildred answered.

"Oh, what a shame; she'll be so disappointed! Besides, we need her to make a full line," Nan said. "Just wait a minute. Lock the door after me," and before the others knew what she was going to do, Nan ran off to the house, got one of her own white dresses, rolled it up neatly, and was over the fields to Nettie's house in a few minutes. When Nan came back she brought Nettie with her, and not one of her companions knew it was Nan's dress that Nettie wore.

Soon all the scarfs were tied and the flags arranged. Then Flossie had to be dressed.

She wore a light blue dress with gold stars on it, and on her pretty yellow curls she had a real Liberty crown. Then she had the cleanest, brightest flag, and what a pretty picture she made!

"Oh, isn't she sweet!" all the girls exclaimed in admiration, and indeed she was a little beauty in her Liberty costume.

"There go the drums!" Nan declared. "We must be careful to get down the lane without being seen." This was easily managed, and now the girls and boys met at the end of the lane.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the boys, beating the drums and blowing their horns to welcome the girls.

"Oh, don't you look fine!" exclaimed Harry, who was captain of the boys.

"And don't you too!" Nan answered, for indeed the boys had such funny big hats on and so many flags and other red-white-and-blue things, that they too made a fine appearance.

"And Freddie!" exclaimed the girls. "Isn't he a lovely Uncle Sam!"

Freddie was dressed in the striped suit Uncle Sam always wears, and had on his yellow curls a tall white hat. He was to ride in Jack Hopkins' goat wagon.

"Fall in!" called Harry, and at the word all the companies fell in line.

"Cadets first," ordered the captain.

Then Flossie walked the very first one. After her came Nan and her company. (No one noticed that Nettie's eyes were a little red from crying. She had been so disappointed at first when she thought she couldn't go in the parade.) After the girls came Freddie as Uncle Sam, in the goat wagon led by Bert (for fear the goat might run away), then fifteen boys, all with drums or fifes or some other things with which to make a noise. Roy was in the second division with his wagon, and last of all came the funniest thing.

A boy dressed up like a bear with a big sign on him:

TEDDY!

He had a gun under his arm and looked too comical for anything.

It was quite warm to wear a big fur robe and false face, but under this was Jack Hopkins, the bear Teddy, and he didn't mind being warm when he made everybody laugh so.

"Right foot, left foot, right foot, forward march!" called Nan, and the procession started up the path straight for the Bobbsey house.

"Goodness gracious, sakes alive! Do come see de childrens! Ha, ha! Dat sure am a parade!" called Dinah, running through the house to the front door to view the procession.

"Oh, isn't it just beautiful!" Martha echoed close at Dinah's heels.

"My!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey; "how did they ever get made up so pretty!"

"And look at Flossie!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah.

"And see Freddie!" put in Uncle Daniel.

"Oh, we must get the camera!" Mr. Bobbsey declared, while the whole household, all excited, stood out on the porch when the parade advanced.

Such drumming and such tooting of fifes and horns!

Freddie's chariot was now in line with the front stoop, and he raised his tall hat to the ladies like a real Uncle Sam.

"Oh, the bear! the bear!" called everybody, as they saw "Teddy" coming up.

"That's great," continued Uncle Daniel.

By this time Mr. Bobbsey had returned with the camera.

"Halt!" called Harry, and the procession stood still.

"Look this way. There now, all ready," said Mr. Bobbsey, and snap went the camera on as pretty a picture as ever covered a plate.

"Right wheel! forward march!" called Nan again, and amid drumming and tooting the procession started off to parade through the center of Meadow Brook.

Six Months Until Christmas!

It's "LEON [NOEL spelt backward] Day!

For my part, I'm already ready for summer to be over. It's been in the 90s for weeks now. Friends tell me fall frippery is appearing in Michaels and they've seen wreaths on the far wall of Hobby Lobby. I must go hug some autumn leaves soon! :-)

Next weekend is Independence Day weekend, and it is two weeks until the Hallmark ornament premiere. Time's gone by quickly despite the fricasseeing we've been getting in the heat. It's time to start playing a bit of Christmas music to be able to endure July and August (not to mention end-of-fiscal-year). Really, nothing like soft instrumentals to cool your brain and soothe your soul. Add a cinnamon candle and you can almost look past the thunderstorms and the roaring cicadas. :-)

Rudolph Day, June 2011

"Rudolph Day" is a way of keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long. You can read a Christmas book, work on a Christmas craft project, listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.

Another time machine post. Our subject: Vintage Video: Christmas in the 1950s

Newsreel of Christmas 1950 Around the World

1950s Christmas Photos Set to Music

Queen Elizabeth II's 1957 Christmas Message

Color Home Movie Footage of a 1950s Christmas Parade in Quincy, MA

Just In Time for Rudolph Day!

2011 Interactive Dream Book Keepsake Ornament Catalog

This year's ornament premiere weekend is July 16-17.

Thankfully, I only saw a handful of things I "gotta" have: the mini cloisonne chickadee, the partridge, the Pongo ornament. James will want the airplane (a Culver Cadet), the Romulan Bird of Prey, and Han and Greedo (possibly one of the Trek figures or Indiana Jones).

Rudolph Day, February 2011

"Rudolph Day" is a way of keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long. You can read a Christmas book, work on a Christmas craft project, listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.

For February we step into a time machine:

Join Bob Hope and guests Raquel Welch, Elaine Dunn, Phil Crosby, Barbara McNair, Miss World, Madeleine Hartog Bell, and of course Les Brown and His Band of Renown for the 1967 Bob Hope Christmas Special.

A 1966 Christmas edition of Hollywood Palace hosted by Perry Como and featuring Kukla, Fran and Ollie:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

The classic 1950s "Christmas Shopping" episode of The Jack Benny Show.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Wikipedia on Valentine's Day

One of my favorite legends about Valentine's Day is that it is supposedly the day the birds choose their mates, but here's a twist on that tale!

And, of course, some Valentine quotes.

Rudolph Day, January 2011

"Rudolph Day" is a way of keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long. You can read a Christmas book, work on a Christmas craft project, listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.

Our January web entry is Christmas Village Houses, History of Putzing and Toy Train Layouts; wander about the site looking at these traditional village homes, but definitely check out these pages:

A Christmas Visit to the 1920s

A Christmas Visit to the 1930s

(I don't know what the store is, but the third Providence, RI, photo, the one taken from inside the store, is from a store on Weybosset Street. I remember going in The Market Basket with my mom.)

A Christmas Visit to World War II

Echoes of Christmas

Last week's "snow event" was an advantage in disguise. The Christmas decorations it had taken me three weeks to laboriously spread across the house came down in two days, although Wednesday's outing was a bit long for my liking. Work was spookily quiet, so this was possible. On Thursday I discovered that the easiest decorations to put away, the five pieces and the decorative soap in the hall bathroom, were still up. Ah well, those were easily tucked away and the house went back to normal in some places (the mantelpiece) and was decorated for winter in others (the porch, foyer, and areas of the dining room). Half the Christmas gifts are still dotted across the living room.

Today there were still dribs and drabs of snow still about, despite the temperature going up to nearly 50°F. I hadn't driven my car in so long that I had to warm it up for some minutes. I had some JoAnn coupons, so went there first. Found some Christmas discounts to re-purpose for next year, and bought a cross-stitch magazine, "Country Woman," some magnets, and two more corner shelves. I nipped in "next door" to Hobby Lobby, but only scored a snowy Christmas garland to replace the snow decor on the porch. It was 69 cents.

Stopped at Borders for a few moments, then went on to Michaels to find there the one thing I was looking for at JoAnn, a small shelf to paint to use in the hall bath for the clock. I also stopped at Barnes & Noble and finally found that Christmas issue of "BBC History Magazine" that I was looking for last month. They had a small Christmas book at half price (see below), which I thought was fair; at full price it wasn't worth it. From there I came home, listened to episodes 2 and 3 of Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club on BBC Radio 7, and later cooked some drumsticks and potatoes for dinner.


A Century of Christmas Memories 1900-1999, by the Editors of Peter Pauper Press
A cute little gift book that is best bought remaindered, as full price is a bit rich for this item. However, there are some fascinating photos in the earliest part of the book: black-and-white Christmas photographs, early magazine covers, vintage toys and advertisements, even political posters (how about Santa Claus promoting votes for women?). The rest of the volume contains little facts about the holidays: did you know the very first electrically-lighted Christmas trees cost $300 ($2,000)? That's because in addition to the specially-made strings of lights, you had to hire a "wireman" (electrician) and purchase a generator, since most homes in 1900 didn't have electricity. I would have stuck with candles for that, too. :-)

Good Night, Sweet Prince

Christmas has gone to sleep till next year, all carefully closeted. Sleep well.

Down and Up

I had done most of our regular shopping yesterday, running into the mob that I hoped I might miss: nope, everyone was stocking up in case it snowed Sunday night. So when we went to Publix today it was only for incidentals: K cereal since it was on twofer, "spots" Bandaids because I haven't yet found a pair of glasses that doesn't hurt my nose, our favorite trail mix we keep in the vehicles, and a few other things. Then we crossed Macland Road so James could get gasoline at Kroger (I had filled up at BJs when they still had gas) and I ran in to get a paper and more birdseed since it was on sale.

A funny: we brought our reusable bags in with us, but at the Publix checkout counter I told the guy I wanted plastic. Why? Well, because while James wears ankle-high boots to support his ankles all the time, all I have are leather Reeboks. No boots. However, plastic grocery bags over shoes will do in a pinch.

We also stopped at Lowes. I had no illusion that we could find an actual snow shovel; they don't sell them regularly around here, and if there were any, they disappeared yesterday. However, we did find a flat-edged shovel rather than the spade we had. Again, will do in a pinch. Also got two sale bags of bows.

Back at home, I went out on the porch to take any cloth or wood Christmas decorations down. Otherwise they would get wet in the snow/freezing rain and take days to dry. But James followed me out, so we ended up taking down everything, the lights, the wreath, the Moravian star, etc., and putting it all away. Then he got the winter boxes down, so by three o'clock the porch was redecorated for winter: snowmen, snowflakes, a mini-sled and -shovel, and a pine wreath with silvery leaves and a blue-silver bow. I also pulled the candoliers from the front windows and replaced them with hospitality candles.

Then we finished the cleanup from the Twelfth Night party last night: James loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters and put the boards away, and I cleared off and wiped the table down and moved it back into place, and vacuumed the upstairs again, and cleared off the coffee table. I also sorted the bows: I save the gold, red, and green ones for Christmas and use the other colors on birthday/other gifts.

By the time this was finished (we had squeezed a short lunch in there), it was nearly time for dinner. I sat and read a couple of mystery short stories, then went out to refill the bird feeders (one was nearly emptied after being refilled at 1 p.m. this afternoon—the birds were definitely stocking up on food against the cold!), and James started dinner going (plain rice and a Hormel dinner).

The Feast of Epiphany

Well, officially Christmas is over. It is the Feast of the Epiphany, when it is said that the Magi/Wise Men (not the three Wise Men, since the Bible never specifies how many there were; three has become traditional due to the three gifts named, gold, frankincense, and myrrh—some cultures say there were twelve Wise Men) reached the child Jesus to present gifts to him. (Again, the Bible does not state the Wise Men arrived at the stable in Bethlehem. In fact, it mentions that they found the child, not necessarily still a baby, in a house.)

Since we got the bad news about BJs yesterday, I was there first thing this morning—in fact, even before they opened, gathered with a bunch of people mourning the store—to make sure that I did get things for the party. I had been told, and so did some of the others waiting at the door, that the merchandise would be on discount. That didn't happen, but I did get the party stuff, and also some extra items, like tea and mushrooms, then came home.

So I've been tidying up for the event, mostly washing the floors upstairs and in the foyer, and also sweeping downstairs. Before Christmas, I used the vacuum cleaner, which is supposed to be rated for both floors and carpet, on the foyer to get it as clean as possible. The wretched wheels left streaks on the foyer floor, and I was hoping scrubbing it again would help. It didn't. I am really annoyed.

This afternoon I sat down to watch a film called The Perfect Gift. Apparently this is one of a string of Christian films about a stranger who helps lead people back to God. In this one, a spoiled girl, Max, obsessed with the fact that no one remembers her birthday because it's on Christmas, and her overstressed executive mother, are expecting a sad holiday: earlier in the year Dad walked off with some chippie from his health club and they have had to sell Max's horse and move into a small apartment away from her school. Max and her mom live next door to Tony, who is a minister at a small church where the head pastor has lost his way. Tony is trying to rebuild the church's nativity stable when an itinerant man (who bears a remarkable resemblance to Jesus) offers to help him with it.

I think you can guess what happens next, but I rather enjoyed the whole thing. These small Christian films are sometimes very didactic, or, even worse, sanctimonious. Sometimes they even resemble elementary school plays, with stilted lines and unbelieveable characters. This was all very natural. The little girl and her mom didn't go through clichè histrionic revelations, and the handyman spoke in a soft, but ordinary voice and didn't have a figurative halo over his head. (Okay, they did make him glow a little at the end, which I thought was overkill. We get it.)

After that, I watched A Wind at My Back Christmas, a sequel to the Canadian series which is running on the Inspirational Channel. I know about this series from my late friend Dana, who used to talk about it all the time. The series is the Depression-era story of Honey Bailey and her three children, who return to her late husband's home town after his death because she can't care for them on her own. Unfortunately her mother-in-law hates her, mostly because she's Catholic, and has the two older boys live with her and the little sister fostered by a childless couple to spite Honey. However, things work out: Honey marries a teacher and gets her children back, and the series follows their adventures in the small mining town of New Bedford, Ontario.

In the Christmas movie the oldest boy, Hubert "Hub," is attending college where he has become involved with Anna Schiller, a refugee girl from Austria whom he helps with anti-fascist meetings. He takes Anna home with him for Christmas when he discovers she is Jewish and has come into Canada illegally (Canada did not accept Jewish immigrants), and is being hunted by the Mounties. His mercurial younger brother Henry ("Fat"), who wants to become a Mountie despite his family not taking him seriously, assumes antagonism the moment Hub gets home, and his old pal Maisie, who has a crush on him despite the fact she knows he wants to go into the priesthood, of course is dismayed to see Anna in his company. In the meantime his mother is urging her husband to get back to his writing. When the RCMP comes to New Bedford looking for Anna, Hub knows what he has to do. This was a great period piece taking place in 1938, and I enjoyed all the character interactions despite not having seen all the backstories.

"On the Twelfth Day of Christmas..."

...my good friends brought to me,
all their good wishes,
gifts for one and all,
some mistletoe,
a guardian angel,
gold and silver tinsel,
candles a-glowing,
little silver bells,
a shining star...
four colored lights,
three boughs of holly,
two candy canes,
and a song for the Christmas tree.

These are the gifts as enumerated in the Andy Williams alternative to the song. I quite enjoy this version, and the arrangement.

It has been a nice year for Christmas music. I replaced my original Mannheim Steamroller tapes with CDs, got the two newest Revels CDs, and managed to make some finds on my own, including "New England Christmastide #1" (I've had #2 for years) and the sequel to both of them, "Christmas in Tuscany" (more nice instrumentals)—"Christmas in Tuscany" and "New England Yuletide" were purchased at the Christmas store in Weston, Vermont—and Windham Hill's Christmas guitar collection.

By far the most surprising find was "A Very Merry Christmas," which I discovered in Borders whilst spending a birthday gift card courtesy the Butlers. It's a Canadian-produced album, and while "The Huron Carol" didn't show up on it, it's a nice assortment of instrumentals/vocals with several French songs, and an absolutely wonderful piece called "When the Winter Comes"—more of a solstice song than a Christmas one—sung by a strong-voiced baritone. My two least favorite tracks were the first and last, sung by Zoë Bentley, whose "A Very Merry Christmas" was "the surprise hit of the holiday season in Canada," according to the album cover. Ms. Bentley has an excellent voice, but she sings in that breathy, warbling style that seems to be popular today, so I wasn't quite enamored of her style.

Many of the tracks on this album are by the Canadian Brass, alone or with organ. Sometimes folks as what songs that make you feel Christmas, and Canadian Brass' arrangement of "The Sussex Carol" is just that. It's so spritely, but still mellow with the brasses. I want to jump into it and be cushioned and made happy by it.

I wanted to send a shout-out to Dish Network, which did something different with their own music this year; usually there is just one Christmas music station, but they gave us about six: a country, a Christian, a "mix" that was sometimes truly bizarre, a couple of others, and an instrumental channel that was all light jazz versions of Christmas songs and carols. I can contentedly wave farewell to the other channels, but I really miss that last one. It was so good for sitting and reading by the Christmas tree!

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas There Were Books

Great Joy, Kate DiCamillo, illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline
This is a sweet picture book about a young girl named Frances who worries about an Italian organ grinder and his monkey whom she sees nightly sleeping on the street. Her mother tells her he's probably fine, but Frances remains concerned about him. Besides the story's theme of care for others, the 40s-era (there are subtle hints that this takes place during World War II) illustrations are absolutely gorgeous (pastels? I don't know, but they almost glow). Ibatoulline evidently loves old movies, because Frances looks very like Karolyn Grimes, who played Zuzu in It's a Wonderful Life and Debby in The Bishop's Wife, the photo of her serviceman father looks a lot like John Wayne, and, especially in the last illustration, Mom is the spitting image of Maureen O'Hara from Miracle on 34th Street!

Christmas Customs Around the World, Herbert H. Wernecke
This is a book from 1959; the title is explanatory of the contents—the author first talks about Christmas symbols such as the poinsettia, holly, Christmas trees, candles, etc., then turns his attention to international Christmas customs. This was published by a Christian publishing company by a former seminarian, so there are many 1940s accounts of Christmas at Christian missions in Africa and Asia, and of course, a scattering of comments about "superstitious pagan customs," that would have been common at the time. One of the interesting things about this book is noting how Christmas customs have changed just in the fifty years since it was published. For instance, Wernecke talks about the Swiss gift giver being the Christkindli, but modern books about Christmas, including Rick Steves' European Christmas, identifies this character as "Samichlaus," who is a Santa figure rather than an angel figure. One wonders how many other of these customs have changed!

Star Bright!, Andrew M. Greeley
This is a small novella about Jack Flanigan, a cynical young man from Chicago, who is attending classes in Cambridge, MA, and who meets a beautiful, enigmatic Russian girl in Harvard Square. She has lived a hard life, but still holds onto her faith. Slowly, Jack begins to fall in love with her, although he is trying to hold himself back. But will a trip home at Christmas to meet Jack's contentious Irish family make or break the relationship?

I started this one with a cynical shake of my head, but as "Odessa" charms Jack, she also charms the reader. She reminded me of Molly, the little angel in the telefilm The Little Match Girl, who created a bit of magic wherever she went. I eventually closed the book with a smile, but your tolerance for the plot depends on your tolerance for Christmas sentiment (although it isn't piled up with sugar as it might be in other books).

A Somber New Year

I can't say it's been the most auspicious New Year's Day ever. Frankly depressing in parts, to be honest. James had to be up early and go to work. I didn't sleep well last night because it was so warm, even with two fans on me, so I woke later a bit headachy. Outside it was a bleak grey. I took Willow outside, then had the usual oatmeal and yogurt breakfast, then wandered around the house replacing calendars...or actually tossing out the old ones, as I had put the new ones up behind the old ones ages ago. In my craft room I have a Boston calendar of vintage photos, done by the Arcadia Publishing ("Images of America") people, which I bought in the Borders in Burlington, MA. The guest room has the little Vermont calendar James bought me at Quechee Gorge. Downstairs is the small Anne of Green Gables calendar I found in the downtown Boston Borders Books. (Still drooling thinking about that store!)

I also put the new whiteboard calendar up on the fridge (the old one is almost impossible to erase neatly any longer) and changed the perpetual calendar in the dining room.

The sky became darker and it started to pour, of course right at the beginning of the Tournament of Roses Parade. This meant there were some dropouts in what I recorded for James, not to mention it just made the day miserable. Heck, the sky might have physically sat down on my sinuses for all the pain it was causing. Nevertheless, it was a great parade, with the usual bright, clever, and lovely floats, and absolutely gorgeous horses: Arabians, saddlebreds, palominos (with Marines in dress uniforms as the riders), pintos, black Freisians, and of course, the Clydesdales. One float was even still playing Christmas music—that's rare these days. I remember when I was a kid a lot more of the bands would still be playing something Christmassy.

After the parade I warmed up some of the pork ribs we had the other night with a few tablespoons full of flavored noodles, and put on the first BluRay disk we have used in the new player, The Sound of Music. Rodney joked last night about high-def grass; well, he wasn't kidding! The movie looked lovelier than ever; I wonder if it looked that good at the Warwick Cinema back in 1966! :-)

By now the headache was overwhelming, so I took three ibuprofin and retreated into the dark for a half hour. That made me feel better, and I took Willow outside, and then realized it was time to start supper! I cooked some box potatoes, and started the ham warming up. James had black-eyed peas, too, for good luck, but I just can't bear the taste of them. Then I replayed the parade for him.

I've gotten on chat. Maybe later another BluRay? [Later: We eventually watched Hunt for Red October. Wow, you can actually see the subs underwater, rather than black blobs.]


The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Barbara Robinson
This book has been a favorite, of myself as well as thousands of readers, since 1972. It is the simple story of the Herdman kids, six scruffy, undisciplined brats from the wrong side of the tracks who turn up at the local church's Sunday School hoping for free treats and end up being cast as all the principals in the annual Christmas pageant. The kids know nothing about the Christmas story, and their eventual interpretation brings a new meaning to the Nativity. Besides the deeper spiritual meaning, this is just a funny story: the Herdmans' kids misadventures as well as the other children's and adults' reactions to them. It all adds up to one Truth: "Hey! Unto us a child is born!"

St. Sylvester's Day

I always like that New Year's Eve is St. Sylvester's. I used to have the cutest little budgie named Sylvester, blue with a yellow face...he used to sit on my knee and say "Birds can't talk"...I remember one time I was sick, I fixed him a little spot on my blanket, sitting on a Kleenex, and we both took a nap together. Every once in a while I would open one eye to check on him and I would see him open one eye to check on me back, and we took care of each other.

Ah, my last day off. I did some bathroom cleaning today, and then had to get something to the post office, so I threw on a jacket and went out. Wish I'd changed shirts, because by the time I was out an hour, it was getting really warm (it went up to 65°F today) and I would have loved to have taken it off. Since I was out anyway, I went to the Borders at Parkway Pointe and to my surprise, found the January issue of the British "Country Living." I've never seen one of those for the next month during the present month before (if you know what I mean).

Finding that made me think of finding the November "Best of British" a few weeks back. Could it be possible they might have gotten the next issue? Yeah, I got drawn into Buckhead. Went through Mt. Paran Road, happy to see that so many people have left up their Christmas decorations through the new year this year. Last year, so many folks seemed to rip everything down right after Christmas.

Alas, the Borders in Buckhead still had the November one. I still hope that means they might have a December one in future weeks. I miss "Best of British." I did find "Sully's" book for $4, though, and something for James for Valentines Day.

Came home through the freeway rather than surface streets because I feared ending up behind yet another SUV doing 20MPH. I wanted to get home in 2010, not 2011. :-)

I made a chicken salad sandwich and sat down to work on yesterday's blog entry while watching "The Little Christmas Tree" with Lassie and Corey Stuart, the wonderful film The Gathering with Edward Asner and Maureen Stapleton, and "The Ghost of Christmas Past" from The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Then a surprise! James got out early! So he was able to come in and relax while I watched Rudolph's Shiny New Year, and as twilight came on we went out to supper at Ken's (pork chops, of course, and sliced tomatoes), then drove to Life University to see their "Lights of Life" display. We hadn't done that yet this season. They had a couple of new displays, including a "praying hands," and so many of their lights are now done in LED; the dragon looks particularly good with LED lighting.

For a New Year's treat we had ice cream at Bruster's. We were astonished to see that the IHOP was closed. Wow. I didn't think the IHOP ever closed!

And then we came home and did what everyone does on New Year's Eve...watched The Poseidon Adventure? What? You don't? We got into the habit when Fox Movie Channel used to show it back to back to back on New Year's Eve, one year the full screen alternating with the widescreen, another year the movie alternating with the movie with pop-up facts, one year with a documentary on Poseidon Adventure fans (and they say science fiction fans are odd!). They quit doing it the year of the tsunami.

Now we are watching the network festivities, listening to firecrackers going off outside, and holding a party on chat. Home with family and online with more family. good times.

Oh, oh! Happy New Year, everyone!


The House Without a Christmas Tree, Gail Rock
Another perennial favorite, this of course is based on the Christmas special of the same name. Rock's text fleshes out the characters even more: we learn more about Grandma's eccentricities, witness Carla Mae's home life that so appeals to Addie, and other details that add more to the story. The book tale is different in minor ways that don't detract from the television story and vice versa. A book to find if you were fond of the special and always wished for more of Addie.

New Year's Eve Eve

A partially busy and partially relaxing day. I did some cleaning and stripped the bed. I also went to Borders and scored the new "Yankee" plus some bargain books, including The Best Mystery Stories of 2008, which has a story by Rupert Holmes in it. I then went over to Love Street to use my birthday coupon. I bought some vintage looking Christmas decorations and a gift for next year, and then strolled over to their sister store and bought a couple of gifts for next year.

In the afternoon I listened to Holiday Traditions and read for a while, then prepared for the evening. I put all the gifts I needed in a carry bag, got myself ready, put some sugarless cookies on a plate, made sure I had James' camera and the Flip, walked Willow and gave her supper, and then waited for Juanita to come pick me up. This way James could come to the Lawsons' house directly from work.

It is so cool to see Juanita driving again! Many, many years ago she shattered the heel of one foot, and it has been getting worse and worse. Last January she had surgery to correct the problem and has been in a cast most of this year because it wasn't healing properly. The doctor finally tried hyperbaric treatments and that seems to have worked.

So we had a combination game night/present-fest and it was a lot of fun. Beef stew was the main course, with several sides and snacks, and homemade cookies made by Alice and a cake made by Aubrey (age 17). We played Yahtzee Free for All and also Ready! Set! Sync Up! and also got some cool gifts. But we sure should have headed home earlier; when we got in it was a scramble to get Willow walked, remake the bed (since I can't put the fitted sheet on myself since the mattress is so heavy), get lunch ready, and get ready for bed. We didn't get to bed until after midnight.


A Williamsburg Christmas, The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation
This is a lovely, slim mostly pictorial book about the decorations and celebrations of Colonial Williamsburg at Christmastime. If you have never seen the colonial city in Yuletide garb, you'll have a treat in seeing for the first time the Della Robbia-like wreaths and garlands, the tables covered with colonial foods, the inhabitants in holiday garb, shining candlesticks and glowing candles, the Virginia countryside in the snow, and photos of celebratory activities. If you're a Christmas fan, you'll love this book.

The Solstice Evergreen, Sheryl Ann Karas
While researching the secular history of the Christmas tree, Karas discovered there were versions of evergreen legend in all cultures, from Japan to Native American to Russian. This volume traces that history along with the various ethnic stories that support the tree legends. I found the legends interesting but the narrative was a bit plodding.

A Wee Christmas Homicide, Kaitlyn Dunnett
This is the third in Dunnett's series of Scottish mysteries, set in the small town of Moosetookalook (don't you love that name?), Maine? Liss MacCrimmon, a former professional Scots dancer whose career was ended by a knee injury, now runs her aunt's Scottish Emporium. When a lack of snow before Christmas ruins the local businesses, Liss devises an idea to run a 12 Days of Christmas promotion involving "Tiny Teddies," a hot new toy out of stock in most of the Northeast, except in Moosetookalook. The promotion works, but with people fighting over the collectible toys, a more bizarre crime occurs: a Tiny Teddy in the window of a local toy store is shot—then followed by the shooting death of the acerbic, avaricious toy store owner.

I hadn't read the other books in the series, but it seemed pretty easy to catch up with the plots surrounding Liss, the two men vying for Liss' affection, Liss' aunt, the deputy sheriff, and the other regular residents and places of Moosetookalook. The mystery was fairly perplexing, and I liked the Maine setting, but the characters didn't particularly grab me enough to purchase the other two books. YMMV!

Feast Day of St. Thomas á Becket

Ah, there's the alarm! I shut it off, lay in bed a few minutes, then got up and...

...wake up in bed? Oh, bother. I only dreamed I got up. It's not like I really overslept; it was only 8:18.

Did some vacuuming and washed two loads of clothes. Between drying one and washing another I went to BJs. I wanted to get ham for New Year's dinner, and I needed Prilosec, and we needed loretadine and Mandarin orange cups. There were two coupons, so I got some Nathan's "lil smokies" and mini egg rolls for the party, and also picked up toothbrushes and some baked chips for James' lunch. They didn't have any multipacks of black-eyed peas, which James must have for the New Year, so on the way home I stopped for them at Food Depot and also got some pineapple for the ham.

Spent the afternoon dubbing off the various Christmas things I wanted to keep: the gingerbread special, The Real Story of Christmas, the Santa special, and the Prep and Landing short. In the meantime, I cooked some pork ribs in the crock pot, with teriyaki, soy, and black sauces, sweetened with a little maple sugar and syrup. Later I dubbed off European Christmas Markets and the Keeping Up Appearances Christmas special.


Christmas at the Mysterious Bookshop, edited by Otto Penzler
These mystery short stories were commissioned each year by Penzler as a gift given to his customers, now collected in this volume; each of the stories required to take place at Christmas and have part of the action take place at Penzler's famed Mysterious Bookshop. Some of the stories are straight mysteries, others involve just desserts; predictably, many of the mysteries involve books, book collectors, or book manuscripts. There's even one about revenge, and another from the point of view of a sociopath. I generally enjoyed the lot, although, sorry to say, my least favorite story was by S.J. Rozan, whose Lydia Chin mysteries I really enjoy. Other favorites were by Lawrence Block, Ed McBain (a very sad ending there!), Thomas H. Cook, Michael Malone, Mary Higgins Clark, and of course the merry wordplay of Rupert Holmes. A bonus for mystery and Christmas fans.

The Night the Stars Sang, by the publishers of Guideposts
This is a collection of anecdotes, stories, and poetry collected by the inspirational magazine "Guideposts," with Victorian "scraps" and photographs of Christmas decorations and snowy scenes for illustrations, and beautiful illuminated music sheets as chapter title illustrations. It is prettily done and features a novelty, a map of the road Mary and Joseph took to Bethlehem and what they would have seen along that road. In the final section there are some Christmas crafts for children as well as some traditional and non-traditional recipes. Plus it has a story I hadn't read in years, Grace Livingston Hill's "The Story of the Lost Star." My copy lacks the pretty cover, but it detracts only slightly from the delightful interior.

The Best of Christmas in My Heart: Volume 2, Joe Wheeler
Wheeler has been publishing these compilations of old Christmas stories and modern anecdotes and stories he has written himself for many years; I have the four Doubleday compilations and a few of the original volumes, so I was reluctant to buy either one of these "Best of" volumes for fear of getting repeats. The first one did contain mainly stories that I had, but to my surprise, there was only two repeats, "The Littlest Orphan and the Christ Baby" and "The Real Christmas Spirit." I prefer the old stories to the couple of inspirational "Chicken Soup for the Soul" type tales that have wandered in this volume, but anyone who places an Albert Payson Terhune story in a book already thick with the spirit of Christmas is fine with me.

Holy Innocents Day (Childermas)

This is the day on which King Herod ordered all the male children of two years and younger to be murdered, in order to kill the Messiah. It is considered bad luck to start a project on this day, so I ended one instead.

In the past my bank has sent numerous additional check cards to our house, some in James' name, because his name is on my checking account. Mine is on his, too, for emergencies, but neither of us wants each other's cards. Just recently five, count 'em, five, new cards arrived, some bearing my name, some bearing James's, and then the cards were followed by letters saying they had to be activated by January 15. What the heck?

So I took the whole caboodle of them to the bank this morning and had the woman cancel ever single blessed one of them except one, which will serve as my new debit card (old debit card was supposedly good until 2012, but they are changing over debit card affiliations from Visa to Master Card, so we get a new one). She cut up all the cards and those are out of my hair.

I went by the library to turn in this year's book donations, and also to pick up one of my two (cross fingers) interlibrary loans. I have read eight of the ten "Camp Fire" novels that Hildegard Frey wrote online (they are out of copyright), and wanted to get the other two. I got Larks and Pranks today, number five, the volume which explains a lot of references in the remainder of the books, like where "the House of the Open Door" (their converted barn meeting-place) came from, how Katherine Adams joined the group, and just who the heck Veronica was, not to mention how they met the boys from "The Sandwich Group" and got their pet donkey, Sandhelo.

From there I went out to Wild Birds Unlimited to see if they had another Christmas mailbox wrap. Forlorn hope, I'm afraid. I did get a nice backyard bird book for half price and got a window feeder with a discount.

Then made the mistake of going to Borders. :-) Four bargain books later...three of them are British! One is Dawn French's memoir, and there is also a book of humorous anecdotes and an adventure novel, plus a novel called Flygirls, about an African-American young woman who is "passing" and joins the WASPS during World War II.

Stopped at Trader Joe's on the way home for a few goodies for the New Year, since we can't spend it celebrating with friends, and came home to watch a few old Christmas shows: the episode of The Famous Jett Jackson where Jett heals a rift between his great-grandmother and an old friend, So Weird where Fi finds herself going back in time, and "Yes, Punky [Brewster], There is a Santa Claus." Then I had a hankering to watch The House Without a Christmas Tree again, so I did.

By then James was home, and we had barbecue beef brisket with baguette on the side, and a few of Emma's cookies each for dessert, and are now watching an old Boston Pops concert I had found on one of my videotapes and converted to DVD. We miss seeing these so much! They used to air on A&E every year, with Jack Perkins and Mary Richardson as hosts, back when A&E had interesting stuff like Christmas Past and rebroadcasts of stories like Flambards instead of a mess of useless reality shows. Their broadcast of Pops Goes the Fourth was sure better than CBS's abortion that never shows the "1812 Overture" (since it's more important to show some overpriced celebrity "singer"). This Holiday at Pops featured Conan O'Brien doing "The Night Before Christmas."

Feast of St. John

Otherwise after-Christmas shopping day. I have some business to transact this week at the bank and a donation to leave at the library, but I'll deal with it later. Today was crisp, cold, and just made for a ride up to Acworth. The sky was overcast when I started out, but by the time I arrived, the sky was breaking through the clouds and was a mesmerizing electric blue—just glorious!

I'd stopped by CVS, intending to buy their tinsel full price anyway, but they had put everything away except for the candy and the cards. So I headed up Macland Road to Lost Mountain. The first part of this route is past homes with some land around them, so all looked beautiful with the snow still frosting the grass.

There is a Kroger off Stilesboro Road, just before I get to Cobb Parkway, and I stopped there to see what Christmas things they had left over. I found two little spherical candle holders that look like mercury glass on half price, so bought them for winter decor. Then I crossed over to Walgreens, where they did have tinsel at half price. I bought five boxes, and also a nice rust-colored sweatshirt at $4. I have a turkey iron-on I would like to use on it to make a fall shirt.

Finally I arrived at Books-a-Million. Didn't find much Christmasy except for Kate DiCamillo's picture book Great Joy (the beautiful soft-focus pastel pictures are actually by Bagram Ibatoulline) half price. The illos are 1940s era, so I couldn't resist. Also found the newest Early American Life and also was seduced by a stuffed red panda. When I was very small, there was a story about an Asian boy and his pet red panda in one of our school readers. I don't remember the plot, but I've never forgotten the cute little red panda. There's also a red panda (often labeled as a cat) in the Toei film Panda and the Magic Serpent, which I remember being shown during the holidays on television.

(The "firefox" of the Firefox web browser, incidentally, is not a red fox; it's a red panda.)

Michaels, across the street from Books-a-Million, had pretty much been stripped of its Christmas finery and the pinky glow of Valentine decorations was rapidly appearing. (I didn't mind this so much as walking into Kroger and seeing Easter eggs!) I did find some silver pine cones in pine and holly leaves to fit into the two little "mercury glass" containers, a box for my jewelry-making bits, and more rechargeable AAA batteries for my wireless mouse (used the 50 percent off coupon on them). In front of Michaels was the only place I saw a lot of ice; it was like a skating rink right in front of the store. Anything left on the road had already melted by the time I headed south to the only Hallmark store I know that puts its ornaments half price instead of 40 percent off.

But they didn't have much left at all. I did get another bag of the miniature hooks, which are so useful, and a tiny little gift for Two People I Know Who Are To Be Married. :-) Then I cut through the back and went to Hobby Lobby and then to JoAnn. For once the magazines weren't on sale at JoAnn, so I could use my coupons on them: a "Cross Stitch Collection" with a Christmas robin design and the newest "New Stitches." All Christmas was 70 percent off, so I got plates for the Twelfth Night party as well.

From JoAnn I went home via Kennesaw National Battlefield Park and Kennesaw Avenue, where the big old houses are. Some of them were decorated with evergreen swags and red bows, and these looked lovely against what snow was left, which wasn't much!


Pearl S. Buck's Book of Christmas
I found this big fat book of Christmas tales at the library book sale. Although it has the requisite collection of Christmas classics, including the inevitable A Christmas Carol, "The Fir Tree," Washington Irving's "Old Christmas" entries, "A Kidnapped Santa Claus," "Gift of the Magi," etc. However, half the stories were new to me, including a trio by Frank R. Stockton, who wrote so many fairy tales for St. Nicholas, some European Christmas tales, a good helping of ghost stories, and others with a fillip of humor, like the opening tale, "Christmas at Thompson Hall" by Anthony Trollope. I found it amusing that, along with "The Little Match Girl" and several other stories about poor people freezing to death during the Christmas season, there is a story about a writer who pens such stories and who is haunted by the characters who have frozen to death! There's even a story that was almost in St. Nicholas, from its sister publication, Scribner's Magazine.

Of course this book is out of print, but if you see it at a used book store, I would recommend this book for anyone looking for a good Christmas anthology with some unusual and not always collected Christmas tales.

On the Feast of Stephen

Despite the dire predictions on the weather, we woke to find only a breezy, chilly day; the wind crept under your coat and down your neck with iced fingers. The snow gave everything a nice frosty look, but even the side roads were dry and clear. We drove to Kroger in an off-and-on swirl of flurries that were leaving small, perfect flakes on windshield and car sides. Plus Radio Classics still had some Christmassy shows on, including a Bing Crosby variety program. We stopped at CVS on the way there, and Walgreen on the way back, looking for bargains, but just found a little china grocery to go under the library tree and two automatic candles—LEDs that you turn on at a certain hour, they burn for eight hours, and then turn off until that same hour the next day, and run until you shut them off. I suppose I need to go buy enough tinsel to replace what I used this year (about two and a half boxes) since you can't reuse it any longer.

We had a gathering to go to this evening, so we just had a light lunch and relaxed this afternoon. I thawed some of our turkey soup—there was a method to my madness, as we needed the space the soup was in for the little cups of ice cream we bought—and we had it with leftover rice. Watched More Crazy Christmas Lights, with folks decorating in Brooklyn, the Bronx, dairy country in California and also at Newport Beach; Lewis Black's special on surviving the holidays, peppered with comedians like Richard Beltzer, Rip Torn, etc., which covered from Thanksgiving to the New Year; plus the Christmas Keeping Up Appearances where Richard is supposed to get dressed as Father Christmas (but Emmett gets him snockered), and had the St. Thomas concert on when it was time to leave.

Well, it's a good thing I checked e-mail before we left, because there was one from this morning saying the gathering was canceled because of the ice on the road. We were a bit flabbergasted, because we didn't see a speck of ice anywhere this morning, and the wind and the dry air had evaporated even the little bits of ice that were on our front steps and in front of the garage. We were really disappointed, because we were so looking forward to getting together with everyone!

Anyway, there wasn't anything defrosted for dinner, so we ate out at Ken's, the Waffle House-like grill near our house. I had pork chops, as always, with just some tomato slices. Yum! Then we drove to Barnes & Noble to use our 25 percent off coupons.

When we arrived home I continued the DVR marathon. (Oh...yeah. Turned the DVR on this morning and the sound was working again. Yay and grrrr at the same time.) Watched Nonna, Tell Me a Story, which was Lidia from Lidia's Italian Kitchen telling stories about her childhood in Italy with little limited-action cartoons and baking sequences thrown in; European Christmas Markets, which went to Christkindl Markets in Germany, Austria, France, and Switzerland, and Christmas to the Extreme, with things like Bronner's in Frankenmuth, MI (huge Christmas store; I wanna go!), the fruitcake toss, extensive light displays, a Christmas hotel, etc.

Christmas Ala Mode

We were up so late that we slept in this morning. Despite yesterday's wonderful news, I slept restlessly with disturbing dreams. I finally got up and, for a further Christmas gift for James, walked Willow and fed her.

I had looked for cinnamon waffles at the supermarket, but only found blueberry, etc., and had to get "cinnamon toast" Eggo waffles instead. These are thin and James found they worked best if you toasted them twice, like a biscotti. They were...okay; I wouldn't go out of my way to buy them again.

We spent the rest of the morning enjoying Christmas. Willow had some treats, and I gave Schuyler a slice of mandarin orange. In the afternoon James cooked his corn casserole.

Now, all week they had been predicting snow on Christmas day, and we had just shaken our heads: not gonna happen. It hasn't snowed in Atlanta on Christmas since 1882! Heck, even southern New England mostly has "green" Christmases. But early in the afternoon it started to rain, then snow. It snowed steadily, at first not sticking to anything, then to the soil and the deck rails, then finally to the grass and the tops of vehicles.

About 2:30 we headed to the Butlers through a winter wonderland. We listened to a Gunsmoke episode about a cranky farmer who complained about intruders in his barn: a man and his very pregnant wife, who is the farmer's estranged daughter. I think you can guess that the baby was a boy and brought peace. :-)

We had a great time. Folks brought appetizers—cheese and crackers, an olive tray, popcorn and other small munchies, a bean tip, brownie bites—and we talked and laughed until dinner was ready: beef roast, spiral-cut ham, mashed potatoes, the corn casserole, salad, another veggie I didn't avail myself of. The tables were full, so I sat in the living room with Lin and watched "Voyage of the Damned" on Doctor Who. Later we had gifts.

It continued snowing all afternoon, making a real Christmas card out of Ron and Lin's wooded subdivision. The boys kept dashing outside to slide in the snow and I kept wandering outside myself to take some film on the Flip; James took some photos with the new camera.

We left somewhat after seven and meandered home the long way to check out a few more lights and buy a paper. We arrived home ready to watch the new Doctor Who Christmas episode and discovered that we didn't have a signal on the Dish. So I put on The House Without a Christmas Tree and then messed with the box again. When I eventually got it to work again, I didn't have any sound. Not only that, but if I try to play stuff that we recorded on the DVR previously, when we did have sound, there's no sound either. It's not the television—if we play it via the antenna, the sound is fine. So I called up tech support and went through that for a while. We actually have to pay to have someone come look at the thing, or buy monthly maintenance coverage! If we owned the box, I wouldn't mind it so much, but we rent the stupid thing monthly; why should we pay to fix it? Anyway, James asked to speak to a supervisor and he got the charge waived.

Anyway, we were fretting about losing what was on the box when the technician came (because they haven't been able to fix a DVR box yet; this is our third one), so I tried different things to get it to play. I turned the sound down and attempted to use the receiver, but there was still no sound. But if we play the DVR through the DVD recorder and turn on the receiver, we do get the sound. Not sure if this is caused by the box or maybe an HDMI port. If it's the port on the TV, I can cancel the service call and call H.H. Gregg instead.

So, anyway, Christmas itself is almost over, but Christmastide rolls on. We have holiday things to do tomorrow and a birthday on Monday. Alas, New Year will be spent at home because James has to work New Year's Day.

A Happy, Happy Christmas Eve

Well, not when the alarm went off, though. Ah, well. :-)

This year I had a list, so we had everything when we got in the truck at 9 a.m. At least everything after I looked at the list and ran back upstairs for the couple of things we had forgotten. We were off to Warner Robins to see James' mom and sister and niece, both very wary of the Christmas Eve shoppers, enough that we circumvented Cumberland Mall altogether—and then, surprisingly, saw little traffic on Cobb Parkway where it got near Best Buy.

We went through Macon this time so we could go into Warner Robins through the "front" (via route 247 in front of Robins Air Force Base) so we could stop at the cemetery first. I had bought James' dad a cute little poinsettia (this one was really cute; I am absolutely immune to plants and this one was trying to talk me into keeping it) which we left on the gravestone.

We had a nice afternoon with Mom, Candy, and Nicki. We exchanged gifts first—actually, James got to open his gift first, because I got him a small camera that he can take to model shows and air shows and it will fit in his pocket. He in return got me a Flip video camera. Wow! James got The Pacific as well as some World War II DVDs, and I got five stuffed birds, each which sings its own particular song: a goldfinch, robin, chickadee, bluebird, and cardinal, and some cutouts for crafting. We filled James' mom up with DVDs and some books, and gave Candy an Eeyore nightgown and a little purse, and Nicki some lotions and other pretties in a storage box; each also got a belated birthday gift: a heart-shaped glass box with a necklace inside, and Mom had belated birthday and Mother's Day gifts as well, since we have not been down there since last Christmas!

For lunch we had fried chicken with sides and the corn casserole James made. This is a new recipe, more like a savory custard, with eggs, onions, butter, etc.

We also met Mom's new dog. Her name is Jenny, and is part some type of terrier and part Maltese, a little thing about Willow's size who is a pretty cream color with long hair, floppy ears, and a simply long, long tail! She's shy, but friendly, and very sweet.

We left just as the sun was setting. Traffic was remarkably light! We stopped about halfway to "use the facilities" and I drove the rest of the way home, propped on my pillow (I can't drive the truck without it; if I pulled the seat up as far as I needed, James would have his knees tucked under his chin).

Willow greeted us happily (certainly partially because she needed to go out...LOL), and then we put things up, I sat down at the computer, downloaded e-mail, and got one that struck like a thunderbolt...a good thunderbolt, but, oh, my ears and whiskers! What news; what happy, splendid, joyful news! It was enough to send me dancing figuratively and literally for the rest of the night. I don't think I've been quite so happy in a long time, and can say honestly: Best Christmas gift ever! Of course it's not fair not to say what it is, but all the particulars are not known to certain people who need to know before others, so right now I'm happily keeping mum—although it's hard not to shout it from the housetops!

Watched The Homecoming tonight, as always on Christmas Eve, and also The Small One (which always reduces me to tears) and Mickey's Christmas Carol, then finished watching the news—they're still saying we might have a dusting of snow for Christmas!—and then Midnight Mass from the Vatican. After midnight we had gifts, and I feel quite spoiled, although I think James bought almost everything on Borders Bucks and Really Good Coupons and club discounts: Christmas 1945, Theodore Rex, Something Old Something New, and the collection of Harry Dresden short stories, Side Jobs, plus an autographed Owly print, and a T-shirt that says "Bibliovore," plus the Webkinz Signature fox (which I am tempted to name "Mulder"). I'd put my budget mostly in the camera (and the memory card), but I also gave James the DVD of Animal House and some World War II B-movies, plus the Webkinz ice dragon. Wil chomped on bacon-flavored dog snacks and I will give Schuyler a special something tomorrow: some mandarin orange, perhaps, or apple.

Will go to bed smiling tonight...

"A Visit from St. Nicholas"

An animated presentation about how Clement C. Moore came to write the famous poem.

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 1

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 2

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 3

2 Days Before Christmas

Best-laid plans: I had intended to get up early this morning and go to Trader Joe's, and maybe stop at Harry's for some last-minute Christmas cheer. Unfortunately, I was still suffering from yesterday's burger and was still ambivalent about how I was feeling until late morning.

So I went to Kroger right before noon instead, wandering around their bakery and holiday decor area. Found something easy for supper, some treats for Christmas, and even a cute little poinsettia to place on James' dad's grave. I'm not usually charmed by plants, but this guy was cute. I have to stop it from persuading me to keep it; my nose is already stuffy.

I felt marginally good enough to stop at Love Street, the little gift shop, and its clothing annex, Heart and Soul, next door. Saw an adorable bottle brush tree and some nice vintage Santas, but was just window shopping.

It was a bright (really bright) blue day, just nippy enough to feel Christmasy, with a nice little breeze, making for a comfortable trudge between stores.

Came home and settled in with my Christmas magazines and had a light lunch along with Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. Fun as always, but would still like to know why they changed the name of the penguin from "Waddles" to "Topper," though! Followed that with The Little Drummer Boy and then Perry Como's Christmas Around the World, which is a compilation of six of the television specials he did for years in the late 1960s and 1970s. It starts in Williamsburg, where Perry sings special lyrics to "The 12 Days of Christmas," then performs "Little Drummer Boy" with colonial drummer boy, visits the Wythe house and all around the town (with more special verses to "Home for the Holidays" and a sing-along in the Raleigh Tavern), and trades quips with John Wayne, then sings "I Saw Three Ships"/"We Wish You a Merry Christmas," and takes part in a candlelight procession to carols and ends with "Ave Maria." Then to Paris, where he sings "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Forever," we see Paris scenery and "Can-Can" number, float up the Seine to "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" and other songs, and finally end with carols at Sacre Coeur.

In French-Canada, Perry sings "Do You See What I See" from the heights of Quebec overlooking the St. Lawrence, there is an exhibition of skating, and he concludes with "O Holy Night." Next to Mexico, where kids join Perry in "Happy Holiday"/"Sing," we see a Los Posadas ceremony, Perry sings "Silent Night" with Vikki Carr and the Captain and Tennille followed by the pinata and a flamenco routine, and finally "Ave Maria" in an elaborately-decorated, beautiful church.

The final two segments feature Austria, both countryside and stately buildings where a waltz ball is taking place, and we take a carriage ride as Perry sings "O Tannenbaum," then later joins the Vienna Boys Choir, and finally visits Oberndorf, the home of "Silent Night," and then the Holy Land, Perry visiting the Holy Sepulchre, Gethsemane and other Biblical locations, and singing "O Come All Ye Faithful" and "Our Father," ending with a re-inactment of the Nativity.

We always looked forward to these specials. They were low-key but fun and went to the best places. I really loved the scene of Perry singing from the Citadel in Quebec, overlooking the St. Lawrence, because we had been there once. Mom loved Perry Como and we always had his records at our house. One of my earliest Christmas gifts was a 45RPM record of Perry singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."

By this time it was time to walk Willow and get the mail, and next thing I knew James was home. We had some Hormel pot roast for supper with rice and watched the news. I particularly enjoyed a story about a USO volunteer who hugs all the service men and women who come through the Atlanta airport, because of Jen's stories about the nice USO services.

Now I am watching "Christmas television"; just finished The Waltons "The Best Christmas," and have put on the British special Christmas Past, which features a great deal of newsreel footage, Victorian film, and reminisces from older people recalling Christmas in the early 1900s, including the 6th Marquess of Bath. (I wish I could find an uncut version of this; apparently what A&E showed was missing at least five minutes; you can see at least two strong cuts at commercial breaks, including during a sequence about the 1914 Christmas Truce.) Not sure if I will follow this up with "Merry Christmas, Bogg" (Voyagers!) or "Santa Claustrophobia" (Hill Street Blues). [Later: We watched "Santa Claustrophobia," otherwise noted for the "It's Christmas Eve and I'm gonna be shot dead in a moose suit" comment from Officer Renko.]


The Cottage Holiday, Jo Mendel
This has been a favorite since I was in grade school, part of the "Tuckers" series published by Whitman. "Jo Mendel" was a house name for several people; most notes on this series say that Gladys Baker Bond was the person behind "Jo" in this outing. This is different from the rest of the series as it has a serious side: seven-year-old Penny's effort to find her place in the scheme of things in her lively family of two older sisters and one older and one younger brother—a somewhat sickly child, she wants to be more than someone who "sits still and takes pills." She conceives an idea to spend the Christmas holiday at the family's summer cottage, where the kids play in the snow with some nearby farm friends and even get involved in the mystery of a missing woman.

This is just such a warm, wonderful story, with family love (and occasional conflict) mixed with Christmas rituals, outdoor fun, and even a suspenseful subplot involving a cougar stalking local farmers' stock. Penny's search for self is something everyone, adult or child, can identify with, and Christmas just adds irresistible icing to the cake.