Well, cool. James isn't working Valentine's Day, he's working the day after.
31 January 2004
26 January 2004
The World in Shades of Pink
Valentine's Day is coming, did you know? :-)
One of the things that depresses me about the day after Christmas is that the holidays aren't even allowed to "settle." Even though there are twelve days left to the holiday and New Year's Eve and Day yet to come, the stores have already torn down everything Yuletide related, shoved it into a corner for quick sale, and by afternoon, the Valentine candy, boxes, cards, and bears are up and running. It's disconcerting.
It doesn't help that I don't like teddy bears or pink, the latter which is my bete noire. I'm the child of first-generation Italo-Americans, both born before 1920. My grandparents were not only Victorian, but ethnic Victorian, and one of the things handed down from this upbringing, almost incomprehensible in this age of primary-color children's clothing, was that small children should only wear pastel colors.
As a small child, my favorite color was red. So guess what color clothing well-meaning older relatives always stuck me with (additionally of course because the "color for girls" was pink). It began a lifelong loathing of pink, especially those salmon/brownish pinks like "dusty rose."
So there are times that Valentine's Day exploding early sets my teeth on edge. I think the worst experience was a couple of weeks ago in Target. Of course Target's colors are already red and white. They had the small girls' clothing in the front of the store and the combination of Target red and white and the feminine shades of pink with accents of lilac and lavender were enough to put my system on overload.
In any case, I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, until I found out James has to work that Saturday. Sigh. Last year I did something cute: I didn't feel like facing the restaurant crowds, desiring something more intimate. So I ordered two T-bone steaks from Ryan's, brought them home along with one of those decorated chocolate-chip cookies from the mall, and served dinner on a small table in front of the fireplace in our living room. Our own private little bistro!
One of the things that depresses me about the day after Christmas is that the holidays aren't even allowed to "settle." Even though there are twelve days left to the holiday and New Year's Eve and Day yet to come, the stores have already torn down everything Yuletide related, shoved it into a corner for quick sale, and by afternoon, the Valentine candy, boxes, cards, and bears are up and running. It's disconcerting.
It doesn't help that I don't like teddy bears or pink, the latter which is my bete noire. I'm the child of first-generation Italo-Americans, both born before 1920. My grandparents were not only Victorian, but ethnic Victorian, and one of the things handed down from this upbringing, almost incomprehensible in this age of primary-color children's clothing, was that small children should only wear pastel colors.
As a small child, my favorite color was red. So guess what color clothing well-meaning older relatives always stuck me with (additionally of course because the "color for girls" was pink). It began a lifelong loathing of pink, especially those salmon/brownish pinks like "dusty rose."
So there are times that Valentine's Day exploding early sets my teeth on edge. I think the worst experience was a couple of weeks ago in Target. Of course Target's colors are already red and white. They had the small girls' clothing in the front of the store and the combination of Target red and white and the feminine shades of pink with accents of lilac and lavender were enough to put my system on overload.
In any case, I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, until I found out James has to work that Saturday. Sigh. Last year I did something cute: I didn't feel like facing the restaurant crowds, desiring something more intimate. So I ordered two T-bone steaks from Ryan's, brought them home along with one of those decorated chocolate-chip cookies from the mall, and served dinner on a small table in front of the fireplace in our living room. Our own private little bistro!
12 January 2004
Farewell to Christmas
I had most of the decorations down and piled up in the living room by Wednesday, except for the kitchen bouquet, garland around the living room door, the door wreaths, and the tree. I took the first three down Saturday while James was at the hobby shop, and he helped me take the tree down. (It still took over an hour with the two of us.)
So everything is back in place again, the winter bouquets up, and the tree is back in the closet. Whether it comes out again next year depends on the selection of trees next year. I never did see a 6-foot tree I liked last year. The present "needles" are short, like a spruce or fir, which I like. The only 6-foot trees I saw had longer needles. Those are good garland trees, but I use silver icicles--plus I don't like Scotch-piney looking trees anyway.
Plus so many of the trees already had lights with them. I'd love to leave our lights on, but there's no basement here like we had in Rhode Island to stand the tree up in, in a corner covered with plastic wrap, until next year.
Hopefully next year will take care of next year.
The living room looks rather bleak again, even with its bright autumn leaf motif. It always does for a few weeks, anyway, until I get used to it again.
So everything is back in place again, the winter bouquets up, and the tree is back in the closet. Whether it comes out again next year depends on the selection of trees next year. I never did see a 6-foot tree I liked last year. The present "needles" are short, like a spruce or fir, which I like. The only 6-foot trees I saw had longer needles. Those are good garland trees, but I use silver icicles--plus I don't like Scotch-piney looking trees anyway.
Plus so many of the trees already had lights with them. I'd love to leave our lights on, but there's no basement here like we had in Rhode Island to stand the tree up in, in a corner covered with plastic wrap, until next year.
Hopefully next year will take care of next year.
The living room looks rather bleak again, even with its bright autumn leaf motif. It always does for a few weeks, anyway, until I get used to it again.
09 January 2004
More Christmas Books
For several years now I've seen Joe Webber's small holiday books, Christmas in My Heart, on bookshelves in December; these paperback-size hardbacks each have about a dozen Christmas short stories in them. I tried not to look at them--the going price for the darn things is $16.95 each!--so I wasn't acquainted with their content: were these modern inspirational essays or stories?
Well, Borders had the second and third books on the bargain table, $3.99 each, plus 50 percent off all Christmas books, so I bought them. I'm still not going to pay full price, but if I see books one and four at a reasonable price, I certainly will purchase them: Wheeler has gone searching through old journals, magazines, and other publications, some as early as 1910, and picked out stories, some of which he remembers hearing as a child, for these volumes. Some are from Christian publications, some from non-US sources, all of them emphasize, although Santa Claus may make a brief appearance occasionally, the joy of giving to someone rather than getting gifts and gluts of presents and little elves and reindeer.
One of the stories in the third volume, in fact, is an old-fashioned favorite of mine, "The Fir Tree Cousins," which I believe I first read in the 1921 Christmas issue of St. Nicholas. It's about a woman who could care less about giving holiday gifts and entrusts the wrapping and addressing of family presents to a friend. The friend confuses the costly trinkets she buys for her parents and siblings with the sensible gifts (thinking that people who live on a farm would only like useful gifts) she sends to her husband's "fir tree cousins" in Maine.
If you like heartwarming Christmas stories and can find these books at a reasonable price, I heartily recommend them.
Well, Borders had the second and third books on the bargain table, $3.99 each, plus 50 percent off all Christmas books, so I bought them. I'm still not going to pay full price, but if I see books one and four at a reasonable price, I certainly will purchase them: Wheeler has gone searching through old journals, magazines, and other publications, some as early as 1910, and picked out stories, some of which he remembers hearing as a child, for these volumes. Some are from Christian publications, some from non-US sources, all of them emphasize, although Santa Claus may make a brief appearance occasionally, the joy of giving to someone rather than getting gifts and gluts of presents and little elves and reindeer.
One of the stories in the third volume, in fact, is an old-fashioned favorite of mine, "The Fir Tree Cousins," which I believe I first read in the 1921 Christmas issue of St. Nicholas. It's about a woman who could care less about giving holiday gifts and entrusts the wrapping and addressing of family presents to a friend. The friend confuses the costly trinkets she buys for her parents and siblings with the sensible gifts (thinking that people who live on a farm would only like useful gifts) she sends to her husband's "fir tree cousins" in Maine.
If you like heartwarming Christmas stories and can find these books at a reasonable price, I heartily recommend them.
06 January 2004
Epiphany
I always find it hard to wind down Christmas. It's such a joyous, bright time in a season of increasing cold that it's hard to let go from. The lights are always the best part. Even staid houses that had icy looks even in July look welcoming at Christmas with a wreath upon the door and a candle in the window. As if at one point in time we are all neighbors and all welcome.
There's not even snow to keep things pretty for a while, to carpet the world with a blanket of silence and the minty breath of cold, just endless days to look forward to of rising in the dark and fighting your way to a place too brightly lit with harsh reality. The candles and the trappings of Christmas manage to soften even that, but it doesn't last long. Back to the same old music, the same old rules, the same old dreary days.
There's not even snow to keep things pretty for a while, to carpet the world with a blanket of silence and the minty breath of cold, just endless days to look forward to of rising in the dark and fighting your way to a place too brightly lit with harsh reality. The candles and the trappings of Christmas manage to soften even that, but it doesn't last long. Back to the same old music, the same old rules, the same old dreary days.
05 January 2004
As the Yule Log Burns Down
"The yule log smouldering in the hearth is like a wild beast in a cage. It comes from another world, that of wilderness and the elements. Its conflagration is a giant hourglass for the rhythms of the Christmas feast, slow-burning with the same patient unhurried sense of time that is evident in its rings of annual growth. The tree's enormous pent-up energy, released into the Christmas parlour by slow degrees, is full of the remembered warmth of spring and summer and the promise of warmer days to come. The essense of the yule log is that its pleasures should be long and slow: it must consume itself gradually, with no sudden bursts of too-passionately flame to spirit away its substance up the chimney into the cold night."
"The Everlasting Flame" by Roger Deakin
in the December 2003 issue of "Country Living."
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...
The December issue of the British edition of "Country Living" has an article on the "12 Days of Christmas" song. The origins of the song are obscure. Ace Collins' Traditions of Christmas, as well as some others, claim that it was a secret teaching tool when Catholicism was suppressed at the time of Henry VIII and later Oliver Cromwell. The most probably origin was as a forfeit in a parlour game: the Victorians were fond of parlour games, and if you lost, you had to pay a forfeit: recite a tongue-twister correctly, for instance, or, in this case, remember all twelve items in the song.
It did have an interesting fact I'd never heard before, that the words "a partridge in a pear tree" is a possible misinterpretation of "a part of a juniper tree."
The other thing I noticed was that they mention the alternative descriptive of the "four calling birds." When I first learned the song, I also recall the line as being "four colley birds. Colley, or "coally," is a synonym for black, so those calling birds may have just been ordinary blackbirds.
"Colley," incidentally, is where the collie dog gets its name. It was renown for herding the "colley" (black-faced) Scottish sheep.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
"12 drummers drumming,
"11 pipers piping,
"10 lords a leaping,
"9 ladies dancing,
"8 maids a milking,
"7 swans a swimming,
'6 geese a laying,
"5 golden rings,
"4 colley birds,
"3 French hens,
"2 turtledoves,
"and a partridge in a pear tree."
It did have an interesting fact I'd never heard before, that the words "a partridge in a pear tree" is a possible misinterpretation of "a part of a juniper tree."
The other thing I noticed was that they mention the alternative descriptive of the "four calling birds." When I first learned the song, I also recall the line as being "four colley birds. Colley, or "coally," is a synonym for black, so those calling birds may have just been ordinary blackbirds.
"Colley," incidentally, is where the collie dog gets its name. It was renown for herding the "colley" (black-faced) Scottish sheep.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
"12 drummers drumming,
"11 pipers piping,
"10 lords a leaping,
"9 ladies dancing,
"8 maids a milking,
"7 swans a swimming,
'6 geese a laying,
"5 golden rings,
"4 colley birds,
"3 French hens,
"2 turtledoves,
"and a partridge in a pear tree."
Home to Clear River
Found this great story about Gail Rock, the creator of the Addie Mills' stories.
03 January 2004
Calm Before the Storm
But it's a good storm, our annual Twelfth Night party. It's actually being held this year on Tenth Night, but who cares? "On the Tenth Day of Christmas my true love gave to me...one party with baked chips, sugar-free candy, and diet dri3nks" [the "3" is courtesy Bandit the budgie, who leaped off the keyboard at that point]--hey, most of us are over 40 and can recite our illnesses in unison. :-)
It's been quiet here because this cold has me exhausted. I wish I would just get a fever and burn whatever it is off; my temp has wavered from 96.8 to normal, and back, mostly about 97.something, which used to indicate I was having an allergy attack. Well, if it's an allergy attack, I've had it for a week! Is there a cat hiding in the house I don't know about?
It's been quiet here because this cold has me exhausted. I wish I would just get a fever and burn whatever it is off; my temp has wavered from 96.8 to normal, and back, mostly about 97.something, which used to indicate I was having an allergy attack. Well, if it's an allergy attack, I've had it for a week! Is there a cat hiding in the house I don't know about?
01 January 2004
Tournament of Roses Parade 2004
It strikes me that one of my dreams is to see the Rose Parade in person...and I couldn't. Someone online says the one thing the television coverage doesn't give you is the wonderful scent of the flowers.
The wonderful scent of the flowers would give me an allergy attack!
This year's theme is "Music, Music." We watched bits of the pre-show and there's a Bob Hope tribute and a dragon.
Woohoo! Talk about openers: we had the theme winner, a calliope, followed by the Air Force Academy band, during which three aircraft, a F-117 Nighthawk, a B-2 Spirit, and a FA-22 Raptor, flew right over the HGTV booth (we always watch on HGTV--no damn commercials!).
The Bob Hope float was great: a giant figure of Bob surrounded by radio, film reels, television, microphones--and a suitcase, of course, stamped USO. (The Bob Hope Humor Trophy went to the float with the singing cactus...singing "Cool Water.")
The Grand Marshall this year is John Williams, who was blithely wearing his Boston Red Sox cap. He was followed by a combined school band 500+ strong, and a float called "Music of the Spheres," a lovely representation of Pythagorian theory, which was playing a John Williams theme.
The tallest float was a recreation of the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror ride, which could actually telescope (not on the route, but to get through the infamous bridge all the floats have to make it through). The competing team floats--USC and Michigan--were much cheered.
The aforementioned dragon float was awesome...the detailing alone was spectacular, plus the float was animated. Some of the organic material had to be cut and dried 36 hours before it could be glued onto the float. There were old-fashioned floats with gazebos and bridges, animal floats (Willow sniffed suspiciously at the cat float, but knew it wasn't real), wildlife floats, kid floats, toy floats, Cinderella in her coach and burst plumbing (Rot-Rooter sponsored, of course)--and even the little old lady from Pasadena, who got to really zoom down Colorado Boulevard.
And of course, horses, horses, horses--curly horses, palomino horses, horses led by Monty Roberts, horses ridden by the children of old cowboy stars, buffalo soldiers on horses, quarter horses, Andalusians, Appaloosas--all appropriate since the Tournament of Roses Parade was founded by the Valley Hunt Club.
The wonderful scent of the flowers would give me an allergy attack!
This year's theme is "Music, Music." We watched bits of the pre-show and there's a Bob Hope tribute and a dragon.
Woohoo! Talk about openers: we had the theme winner, a calliope, followed by the Air Force Academy band, during which three aircraft, a F-117 Nighthawk, a B-2 Spirit, and a FA-22 Raptor, flew right over the HGTV booth (we always watch on HGTV--no damn commercials!).
The Bob Hope float was great: a giant figure of Bob surrounded by radio, film reels, television, microphones--and a suitcase, of course, stamped USO. (The Bob Hope Humor Trophy went to the float with the singing cactus...singing "Cool Water.")
The Grand Marshall this year is John Williams, who was blithely wearing his Boston Red Sox cap. He was followed by a combined school band 500+ strong, and a float called "Music of the Spheres," a lovely representation of Pythagorian theory, which was playing a John Williams theme.
The tallest float was a recreation of the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror ride, which could actually telescope (not on the route, but to get through the infamous bridge all the floats have to make it through). The competing team floats--USC and Michigan--were much cheered.
The aforementioned dragon float was awesome...the detailing alone was spectacular, plus the float was animated. Some of the organic material had to be cut and dried 36 hours before it could be glued onto the float. There were old-fashioned floats with gazebos and bridges, animal floats (Willow sniffed suspiciously at the cat float, but knew it wasn't real), wildlife floats, kid floats, toy floats, Cinderella in her coach and burst plumbing (Rot-Rooter sponsored, of course)--and even the little old lady from Pasadena, who got to really zoom down Colorado Boulevard.
And of course, horses, horses, horses--curly horses, palomino horses, horses led by Monty Roberts, horses ridden by the children of old cowboy stars, buffalo soldiers on horses, quarter horses, Andalusians, Appaloosas--all appropriate since the Tournament of Roses Parade was founded by the Valley Hunt Club.
31 December 2003
Seeing Out the Old Year
Well, here it is New Year's Eve and we're at home. Remember James' cold, the one he caught at work. Well, on Monday it was evident it had been transferred to me.
I slept most of the day yesterday; when I didn't sleep, my nose did a remarkable imitation of a faucet stuck in the open position. Today I had to go to the doctor anyway, to get my pills renewed; the doctor also prescribed an OTC med called "Mucinex" (how appropriate!).
In surfing through programming tonight, we watched a bit of Boomerang's "Hadji New Year" Jonny Quest marathon, and then switched over to Fox Movie Channel for a special I'd heard about. For the past several New Year's Eves, Fox has been doing a marathon of The Poseidon Adventure (they do a full-screen version, widescreen version, and "annotated" widescreen version with production notes at the bottom), but this year they were adding a documentary called Cult Culture: The Poseidon Adventure, about Poseidon Adventure fans. Boy, and they say science fiction fans are weird.
These folks had a convention on the decks of the Queen Mary, where the opening scenes of the movie were filmed, talk about their favorite scenes, and even have produced a musical spoof of the film. It was wonderful, silly and entertaining all at once.
I slept most of the day yesterday; when I didn't sleep, my nose did a remarkable imitation of a faucet stuck in the open position. Today I had to go to the doctor anyway, to get my pills renewed; the doctor also prescribed an OTC med called "Mucinex" (how appropriate!).
In surfing through programming tonight, we watched a bit of Boomerang's "Hadji New Year" Jonny Quest marathon, and then switched over to Fox Movie Channel for a special I'd heard about. For the past several New Year's Eves, Fox has been doing a marathon of The Poseidon Adventure (they do a full-screen version, widescreen version, and "annotated" widescreen version with production notes at the bottom), but this year they were adding a documentary called Cult Culture: The Poseidon Adventure, about Poseidon Adventure fans. Boy, and they say science fiction fans are weird.
These folks had a convention on the decks of the Queen Mary, where the opening scenes of the movie were filmed, talk about their favorite scenes, and even have produced a musical spoof of the film. It was wonderful, silly and entertaining all at once.
28 December 2003
Someone Noted What Day It Was
The Discovery Channel is running a special about King Herod tonight: how appropriate since today is Childermas, or Holy Innocents Day, when Herod ordered the slaughter of boys two years old or less to try to kill the baby Jesus. According to one of my Christmas books, this day is considered unlucky and you should not transact business or start any new projects on this date.
26 December 2003
St. Stephen's Day/Boxing Day
Well, neither of us did anything much for "the feast of Stephen": James woke up with a violent sore throat and having had little sleep because of a stuffy nose, stayed home from work to ingest soup and lozenges; I had laundry to do and some painting projects I wanted to work on. The exciting part of the day was chasing a garbage truck down the street. While working on the painting projects (two small shelf boxes that I would like to go in the hall bathroom, a corner shelf for the den, and a formerly black frame turned apple red to frame an apple print for the kitchen), I watched some of fifth season M*A*S*H (my birthday gift from James) and an episode each on the three Lassie TV series DVDs I'd found in WalMart.
25 December 2003
Christmas Day at the Videos, Part 4
This is the last one: a real Christmas miracle occured--the folks at IBM decided after one call came in all morning that they didn't need a whole crew there and sent James home early.
The last film in the queue is one of my all-time favorites, The House Without a Christmas Tree. This is another non-DVD affair highly sought on e-Bay since CBS quit producing the videos several years back. I've seen some comment on Amazon.com that it "looks funny." That's because CBS produced it on the cheap in the 70s on the same videotape they recorded their soap operas on. I've always thought it would come out lovely run through one of those Avid editing machines, the same type they used to give Remember WENN such a nice forties Technicolor look.
The performances are so spot-on in this show I can believe I'm looking through a time-machine's window at something that actually happened in December of 1946. I love Addie--she's smart and resourceful with all the chuzpah I always wished I had. But Jason Robards is superb--his embittered James Mills is on the surface hateful, but the hurt and suppressed love evident in his manner and his eyes saves the character and makes him more than a cardboard villain.
The 1940s atmosphere is a big plus and this has yet another memorable score by Arthur Rubenstein.
And now we're off to dinner! Merry Christmas!!!!!
The last film in the queue is one of my all-time favorites, The House Without a Christmas Tree. This is another non-DVD affair highly sought on e-Bay since CBS quit producing the videos several years back. I've seen some comment on Amazon.com that it "looks funny." That's because CBS produced it on the cheap in the 70s on the same videotape they recorded their soap operas on. I've always thought it would come out lovely run through one of those Avid editing machines, the same type they used to give Remember WENN such a nice forties Technicolor look.
The performances are so spot-on in this show I can believe I'm looking through a time-machine's window at something that actually happened in December of 1946. I love Addie--she's smart and resourceful with all the chuzpah I always wished I had. But Jason Robards is superb--his embittered James Mills is on the surface hateful, but the hurt and suppressed love evident in his manner and his eyes saves the character and makes him more than a cardboard villain.
The 1940s atmosphere is a big plus and this has yet another memorable score by Arthur Rubenstein.
And now we're off to dinner! Merry Christmas!!!!!
Christmas Day at the Videos, Part 3
Just finished watching The Gathering, with Ed Asner and Maureen Stapleton. As many Emmy awards and excellent reviews as this movie got when it first premiered in the 1970s, you'd think it would be a staple still, but it's hardly seen anymore.
It's a sad but ultimately joyous story of Adam Thornton, who became estranged from his wife--and most of his family--four years earlier after an argument. His older son has become as arrogant and independent as he is, his older daughter is a hard-nosed political activist, his younger daughter has a happy marriage although her husband's business is floundering, and he hasn't seen his youngest son in years, after he fled to Canada to avoid the draft. Now he has 90 days or less to live and he wants to make amends. With help from his still-loving wife, that dream comes true.
Besides the wonderful performances by Asner, Stapleton, John Randolph, Veronica Hamel, Gregory Harrison, Lawrence Pressman and the rest of the cast, there's a great musical score by John Barry (there's a particular lilting motif that shows up mid-film that I love), the "firework scene," and real winter scenery rather than ersatz snow, with Chagrin Falls and Hudson, Ohio, standing in for "somewhere in New England."
Incidentally, whatever studio produced this movie is losing big bucks not remastering it to DVD. Someone asked me where they could get a copy and I immediately directed them to e-Bay and checked it out myself. The copies of the professional videotape, still in wrap, are going for $40-$50; even previously watched tapes are going for $35.
It's a sad but ultimately joyous story of Adam Thornton, who became estranged from his wife--and most of his family--four years earlier after an argument. His older son has become as arrogant and independent as he is, his older daughter is a hard-nosed political activist, his younger daughter has a happy marriage although her husband's business is floundering, and he hasn't seen his youngest son in years, after he fled to Canada to avoid the draft. Now he has 90 days or less to live and he wants to make amends. With help from his still-loving wife, that dream comes true.
Besides the wonderful performances by Asner, Stapleton, John Randolph, Veronica Hamel, Gregory Harrison, Lawrence Pressman and the rest of the cast, there's a great musical score by John Barry (there's a particular lilting motif that shows up mid-film that I love), the "firework scene," and real winter scenery rather than ersatz snow, with Chagrin Falls and Hudson, Ohio, standing in for "somewhere in New England."
Incidentally, whatever studio produced this movie is losing big bucks not remastering it to DVD. Someone asked me where they could get a copy and I immediately directed them to e-Bay and checked it out myself. The copies of the professional videotape, still in wrap, are going for $40-$50; even previously watched tapes are going for $35.
Christmas Day at the Videos, Part 2
My favorite episode of The Waltons: "The Best Christmas" was next. I enjoyed the entire series of Waltons, except perhaps the final season, but the first six or seven years were the best.
It's Christmas 1937, and Olivia confides to Grandma, with Elizabeth overhearing, that she wants this holiday to be the best one, as the family may be scattered in future years. So everyone plans for a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner, despite the icy weather. But Grandma and Grandpa are stranded in Charlottesville visiting a sick friend, Ben is trapped at Yancy Tucker's house, Jason and John are helping clear away a tree that has crashed through the church roof, Jim-Bob is late because a friend he's invited for dinner was primping, Erin is still on duty at the switchboard because Fanny Tatum has not returned--and John-Boy, Mary Ellen and Curt, along with Verdie and Harley are busy rescuing Miss Fanny and her niece from their car, which has run off the road into a frozen pond, leaving Olivia and Elizabeth to hold the fort at home. It's a very warm, loving story that ends with a teary reunion on Christmas morning.
The pond rescue scenes are especially good: I know this was probably filmed in August on a hot soundstage, but the snow and ice is so well done that I get the chills just watching John-Boy and Harley wade out into the cold water.
I have a humorous memory of this episode from when it first aired, stemming from Mary Ellen and Curt's treatment of frostbite; they began with applications of cold water, gradually getting warmer--dozens of people apparently wrote to TV Guide, and a representative number were printed in their letters column, screaming that that was not the way to treat frostbite! Some of them were quite upset that The Waltons would "mislead" people into thinking this was correct. It was so stupid--of course we knew in the 1970s that frostbite should not be treated that way, but the show took place in 1937; that's the way frostbite was treated then. Had they used the 70s method of treatment, it would have been anachronistic! Duh!
After this was over, I switched the TV to WPIX to watch the Yule Log while I phoned first James--I was everyone's first call of the day--and then my mother, who was getting ready to go to my cousin's house for Christmas dinner.
It's Christmas 1937, and Olivia confides to Grandma, with Elizabeth overhearing, that she wants this holiday to be the best one, as the family may be scattered in future years. So everyone plans for a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner, despite the icy weather. But Grandma and Grandpa are stranded in Charlottesville visiting a sick friend, Ben is trapped at Yancy Tucker's house, Jason and John are helping clear away a tree that has crashed through the church roof, Jim-Bob is late because a friend he's invited for dinner was primping, Erin is still on duty at the switchboard because Fanny Tatum has not returned--and John-Boy, Mary Ellen and Curt, along with Verdie and Harley are busy rescuing Miss Fanny and her niece from their car, which has run off the road into a frozen pond, leaving Olivia and Elizabeth to hold the fort at home. It's a very warm, loving story that ends with a teary reunion on Christmas morning.
The pond rescue scenes are especially good: I know this was probably filmed in August on a hot soundstage, but the snow and ice is so well done that I get the chills just watching John-Boy and Harley wade out into the cold water.
I have a humorous memory of this episode from when it first aired, stemming from Mary Ellen and Curt's treatment of frostbite; they began with applications of cold water, gradually getting warmer--dozens of people apparently wrote to TV Guide, and a representative number were printed in their letters column, screaming that that was not the way to treat frostbite! Some of them were quite upset that The Waltons would "mislead" people into thinking this was correct. It was so stupid--of course we knew in the 1970s that frostbite should not be treated that way, but the show took place in 1937; that's the way frostbite was treated then. Had they used the 70s method of treatment, it would have been anachronistic! Duh!
After this was over, I switched the TV to WPIX to watch the Yule Log while I phoned first James--I was everyone's first call of the day--and then my mother, who was getting ready to go to my cousin's house for Christmas dinner.
Christmas Day at the Videos, Part 1
James wobbled off to work--he had no temp, only a sore throat--fortified with tea, a turkey sandwich, and some snacks--and I wandered into the spare room to sit with Bandit and watch The Christmas That Almost Wasn't. This is a thoroughly silly film, suitable for playing if you feel as if you're going to doze off, although I didn't. Rossano Brazzi plays a comic-opera villain called Phineas T. Prune, who hates Christmas and children, the sets are European gingerbread, and Paul Tripp spreads holiday cheer simply with his smile.
While the movie ran, Bandit told me a long budgie story (he lives a very full life).
While the movie ran, Bandit told me a long budgie story (he lives a very full life).
24 December 2003
Life Happens When You're Making Christmas Plans
James ended up staying home today; he'd been getting more and more tired and sore throated all week. It's not the flu, just the creeping crud that was going around and finally got to him. I went out for a little while this morning: spent a couple of Linens'n'Things coupons on some kitchen gadgets we needed, then spent much too much at the "Giant Book Sale," mostly on "For Better or For Worse," "Baby Blues," "Fox Trot," "Mutts," and "Rose is Rose" compilations, plus the newest Jill Paton Walsh Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane homage.
Thank God for the billboard on the way home, or I might have forgotten to stop at Harry's for the bread for our usual Christmas Eve feast.
Since James was home, we first played one of our favorites, John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together and then we settled in to watch the DVD of the extended version of The Two Towers, since we want to see Return of the King some time this weekend. It's not exactly Christmasy :-) but it was a nice thing to be able to do together.
(Before we watched Two Towers, I had James hook up the subwoofer. The new receiver has six speakers, right, left, center, surround left, surround right, and the subwoofer. Since we're going to be shifting the TV and the furniture around, I thought it silly to hitch up all the speakers now. But for Towers we really needed the subwoofer. Oh, boy, does it "woof." The funniest thing was watching Willow. The first time something rumbled onscreen she stepped up to the subwoofer, sniffing suspiciously, then she glanced at the center speaker, then back at the subwoofer, then something really growled and she ran backwards, barking at the top of her lungs! She did it twice before she got used to the subsonics. It really did make the floor rumble!)
Oh, during the Muppets someone knocked on the door; it turned out to be Steve, the guy who cuts our lawn. He brought us an amaryllis plant. I'm usually death to plants and we really have no sunny spot for it, but we're going to try it in the living room and see what happens.
I was half watching Towers and half reading one of my favorite books to read at Christmas, Kate Seredy's The Open Gate. It's not really a Christmas story, but a Christmas event figures in it and it ends the Christmas after the Pearl Harbor attack. Every time I read this book I have the uncontrollable urge to go out to live on a farm despite one of the lead character's admonition of the harshness--alongside the rewards--of farm life.
It's a joyous book, about the Preston family (parents, daughter and son, and the father's mother), who in June 1941 head out to a New York lake resort after Dad loses his job. Through a series of accidents and a little bit of machination by the grandmother, the Prestons end up buying a beautiful but run-down old farm in Orange County. Gran, homesick for the farm life she had when her sons were young, is determined to keep the farm--and she convinces the rest of the family as well. Soon they befriend the neighbors, an elderly couple raising their grandson after his parents were killed on Christmas Eve years earlier, and a Slovakian couple whose roots are truly in the soil.
Of course the inevitable happens on December 7, but the family, like the entire country, proceeds with resolve, and a special Christmas gift makes the first wartime holiday a special one for the Prestons and their new friends.
This all accompanied by Kate Seredy's delightful illustrations!
For dinner we had the usual spaghetti, thick with pepperoni, pork, and meatballs, and then "had Christmas" in the living room with the fire going. James received a plethora of books and a paper airplane calendar; I discovered, besides a copy of The Goodbye Girl and the much coveted Amelia Peabody's Egypt, that I had some pretty baubles, a carnivorous rabbit and a sheep in wolf's clothing (yes, you read that right). I'd seen the latter at DragonCon and laughed over it; James found it in an online catalog.
This should have been it, but we also baked a chocolate-chip chocolate cake to take with us for dessert tomorrow. (As of writing this, we haven't decanted it yet. Wish us luck...)
James is planning to go to work tomorrow, so to that end we are not attending Midnight Mass this year. This has made Bandit extremely happy--this means he can cling to my neck and chirble longer.
Thank God for the billboard on the way home, or I might have forgotten to stop at Harry's for the bread for our usual Christmas Eve feast.
Since James was home, we first played one of our favorites, John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together and then we settled in to watch the DVD of the extended version of The Two Towers, since we want to see Return of the King some time this weekend. It's not exactly Christmasy :-) but it was a nice thing to be able to do together.
(Before we watched Two Towers, I had James hook up the subwoofer. The new receiver has six speakers, right, left, center, surround left, surround right, and the subwoofer. Since we're going to be shifting the TV and the furniture around, I thought it silly to hitch up all the speakers now. But for Towers we really needed the subwoofer. Oh, boy, does it "woof." The funniest thing was watching Willow. The first time something rumbled onscreen she stepped up to the subwoofer, sniffing suspiciously, then she glanced at the center speaker, then back at the subwoofer, then something really growled and she ran backwards, barking at the top of her lungs! She did it twice before she got used to the subsonics. It really did make the floor rumble!)
Oh, during the Muppets someone knocked on the door; it turned out to be Steve, the guy who cuts our lawn. He brought us an amaryllis plant. I'm usually death to plants and we really have no sunny spot for it, but we're going to try it in the living room and see what happens.
I was half watching Towers and half reading one of my favorite books to read at Christmas, Kate Seredy's The Open Gate. It's not really a Christmas story, but a Christmas event figures in it and it ends the Christmas after the Pearl Harbor attack. Every time I read this book I have the uncontrollable urge to go out to live on a farm despite one of the lead character's admonition of the harshness--alongside the rewards--of farm life.
It's a joyous book, about the Preston family (parents, daughter and son, and the father's mother), who in June 1941 head out to a New York lake resort after Dad loses his job. Through a series of accidents and a little bit of machination by the grandmother, the Prestons end up buying a beautiful but run-down old farm in Orange County. Gran, homesick for the farm life she had when her sons were young, is determined to keep the farm--and she convinces the rest of the family as well. Soon they befriend the neighbors, an elderly couple raising their grandson after his parents were killed on Christmas Eve years earlier, and a Slovakian couple whose roots are truly in the soil.
Of course the inevitable happens on December 7, but the family, like the entire country, proceeds with resolve, and a special Christmas gift makes the first wartime holiday a special one for the Prestons and their new friends.
This all accompanied by Kate Seredy's delightful illustrations!
For dinner we had the usual spaghetti, thick with pepperoni, pork, and meatballs, and then "had Christmas" in the living room with the fire going. James received a plethora of books and a paper airplane calendar; I discovered, besides a copy of The Goodbye Girl and the much coveted Amelia Peabody's Egypt, that I had some pretty baubles, a carnivorous rabbit and a sheep in wolf's clothing (yes, you read that right). I'd seen the latter at DragonCon and laughed over it; James found it in an online catalog.
This should have been it, but we also baked a chocolate-chip chocolate cake to take with us for dessert tomorrow. (As of writing this, we haven't decanted it yet. Wish us luck...)
James is planning to go to work tomorrow, so to that end we are not attending Midnight Mass this year. This has made Bandit extremely happy--this means he can cling to my neck and chirble longer.
23 December 2003
Now That Smells Like Christmas...
Slept late this morning and really enjoyed it; actually awoke with some energy!
I spent the late morning/early afternoon making cookies. It was like a lovely flashback to my childhood although my cookie-baking is curtailed compared to my mom's. I made my favorite of the holiday cookies, wine biscuits (recipe here). I used the last of my hearty burgundy and haven't been able to find anymore. Looks like I'll have to visit my mom again just to buy more wine! (Geez! Twist my arm!) Plain old burgundy just doesn't do it.
Mom used to also bake almond bars, molasses cookies, and butterballs (which for some reason they call "Danish wedding cookies" here). I loved the molasses cookies next best, but the only year I tried to make them I ended up with a gluey dough that literally had to be scraped off my fingers. I keep forgetting, when I'm visiting home, to rummage around in the recipe box--an old cigar box--in which lives the classic cookie recipes hand-written on white or blue paper and find the definitive version of the molasses cookie recipe.
Mom baked many dozens of cookies, some which found their way on paper plates to be exchanged with relatives who gave us their wine biscuits, almond bars, etc. She also made them for my best friends' mother, other friends' families, and my godparents (both sets). If we were lucky, someone in the family would make wandi's, a friable, sugar-scattered confection that was twisted on itself and then deep-fried (the closest equivalent I can think of is a funnel cake, but that's not it either: funnel cakes are chewy and these are thin and break the moment you bite into them, showering you with powdered sugar). Wandi's are difficult to make and the older I grew, the less the aunts baked them, so they became the ultimate treat.
When the cookies were done, I ran out for a few groceries and discovered myself suddenly infected with Christmas spirit. Much better than the flu, trust me. :-) Came home to start making spaghetti sauce. Since I don't have my own home made tomato base, I start with a base of three jars of Classico d'Napoli sauce, tomato and basil, no sugar added (read my lips: real Italian spaghetti sauce has no sugar in it), add water since neither of us likes it that thick, and add a cut-up stick of pepperoni, chunks of pork, and meatballs.
It's been simmering for two hours now and has another hour to go. The house smells heavenly, of wine biscuits and "the gravy." Now that smells like Christmas! I sit and sniff as I watch Ask the Manager Christmas specials. But surely Heaven smells of spaghetti sauce, fresh-baked Italian bread, and wine biscuits...
I spent the late morning/early afternoon making cookies. It was like a lovely flashback to my childhood although my cookie-baking is curtailed compared to my mom's. I made my favorite of the holiday cookies, wine biscuits (recipe here). I used the last of my hearty burgundy and haven't been able to find anymore. Looks like I'll have to visit my mom again just to buy more wine! (Geez! Twist my arm!) Plain old burgundy just doesn't do it.
Mom used to also bake almond bars, molasses cookies, and butterballs (which for some reason they call "Danish wedding cookies" here). I loved the molasses cookies next best, but the only year I tried to make them I ended up with a gluey dough that literally had to be scraped off my fingers. I keep forgetting, when I'm visiting home, to rummage around in the recipe box--an old cigar box--in which lives the classic cookie recipes hand-written on white or blue paper and find the definitive version of the molasses cookie recipe.
Mom baked many dozens of cookies, some which found their way on paper plates to be exchanged with relatives who gave us their wine biscuits, almond bars, etc. She also made them for my best friends' mother, other friends' families, and my godparents (both sets). If we were lucky, someone in the family would make wandi's, a friable, sugar-scattered confection that was twisted on itself and then deep-fried (the closest equivalent I can think of is a funnel cake, but that's not it either: funnel cakes are chewy and these are thin and break the moment you bite into them, showering you with powdered sugar). Wandi's are difficult to make and the older I grew, the less the aunts baked them, so they became the ultimate treat.
When the cookies were done, I ran out for a few groceries and discovered myself suddenly infected with Christmas spirit. Much better than the flu, trust me. :-) Came home to start making spaghetti sauce. Since I don't have my own home made tomato base, I start with a base of three jars of Classico d'Napoli sauce, tomato and basil, no sugar added (read my lips: real Italian spaghetti sauce has no sugar in it), add water since neither of us likes it that thick, and add a cut-up stick of pepperoni, chunks of pork, and meatballs.
It's been simmering for two hours now and has another hour to go. The house smells heavenly, of wine biscuits and "the gravy." Now that smells like Christmas! I sit and sniff as I watch Ask the Manager Christmas specials. But surely Heaven smells of spaghetti sauce, fresh-baked Italian bread, and wine biscuits...
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