Hey, I need those 2 hours back.

Friday, December 7, 2007 at 10:02 am (Writing by Ear)
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That’s right, feeble brain. Those 2 hours you stole from me today from 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. Remember those? Remember how busy you were thinking of all sorts of “important things.”

Geez, I wonder where that list for Wal-Mart is. My coat pocket? My purse? I better not have lost it. I need to add Resolve and chile beans, oh and a card for Bruce…

Oh, and I need to look up those gift ideas online to see if I can get them in time for Christmas…

 And don’t forget to write those cards to Mike’s aunts & uncles and George & Martha so you can mail that stack you did and leave Mike to do “his people…”

And, crap, I spelled Caitlyn’s name wrong on Laurie & Tim’s card and it’s too late ’cause I sealed it. Sorry guys…!

And, I better get to the post office before I meet Mike for lunch and before it closes for lunch at noon. That postmistress there is so nice…should I get the Santa stamps or the Madonna and Child stamps? I like the religious ones…

How about that video from my brother. Those puppies are so cute! I wish we could get one. Wouldn’t that be a disaster. Maybe someday when we get a fenced yard. But then you always have to worry about them and be there to let them out and stuff. Cats are so much easier. But they sure are cute! And I wonder how Cody is, what a good boy…

Oh here comes Julius. Should I pet him? I don’t want to wind him up. Oh he’s so cute just snuggled up between us, a little petting won’t hurt…

Maybe if I go to the bathroom I can sleep…

Geez Julius, can you move over, I have like a foot of space…

What time is it now? 4:05? God, I’ve been up for an hour!

I wonder if I have molasses? Should I make ginger cookies? Maybe I can find that recipe with the icing someone made for Kathleen’s party 2 years ago. They were so good…

OK just concentrate…you’re floating. Just like that scene from Rosemary’s Baby where she’s imagining herself on a boat on the water. Rosemary’s Baby? Not really what you want to be thinking of when you can’t sleep…

Hey, pay those bills tomorrow and don’t forget to record that deposit from the insurance check for Mike’s car. And do that invoice…next week will be hell, so get as much done today as you can.

That Rita, what a nice gift! She shouldn’t have bought so much stuff. I feel bad.

How about if I wrap lights around that extra garland I don’t really like and put that on top of the entertainment center with all the Santas? I really liked last year when the wreathes in the living and dining rooms matched but that won’t work this year with the new tree…

Gosh, I need to go see my mom…it’s supposed to be better weather next week. I have to call her at least…

Is it hot? I’m hot.

And I still have that headache. I need to get some Tylenol PM for times like this. But if I take it this late will I sleep until noon or something?

I need to check on those couple songs I like to see if I can maybe download them. That jazzy one YEP’s been playing by that woman — McKuen or something — “You’re from Rhode Island, Little ol’ Rhode Island, it’s famous for you!” and that one from the Old Navy sweaters commercial — Ingrid Michaelson.

Geez, 4:55…

Remember all that feeble brain? Keep it in mind. I’ll be cashing in on those 2 hours you owe me…right about 3:00 p.m. when you’re screaming for that nap.

How do people go to sleep? I’m afraid I’ve lost the knack. I might try busting myself smartly over the temple with the night-light. I might repeat to myself, slowly
and soothingly, a list of quotations beautiful from minds profound;
if I can remember any of the damn things. 
                                               ~ Dorothy Parker

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It really IS the thought that counts.

Thursday, December 6, 2007 at 3:39 pm (Smile Lines)
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Dear Abby:
What do you think it means when your husband sends you an e-mail link and this is what it is.

Kitchen Compost Crock

With this message:

Dear Christine,

I immediately thought of you when I saw this

– Mike

Now, do you suppose it was the compost (e.g., garbage) aspect that made him think of me or the “crock” part? Or maybe it’s that we’re shaped alike?
Signed,
Puzzled in Pittsburgh

Too funny. His motives were totally sweet. He’s remembering my love of gardening and the fact that I’m currently using a plastic bin from the dollar store as my kitchen scrap holder.

Truth be told, I’m thrilled that he’s thinking of me and my interests. And I have to say, this brings to mind one occasion where I was told (by someone else): “I know you’ll love what I got you for Christmas.”

Immediately, my mind said, “Oh my God, he got me the rototiller I’ve been wanting!”

Seriously, this is what I thought.

Then he said, and I quote: “All chicks dig this.”

Then I knew, it wasn’t my dream gift. (Maybe if he had said, “All chicks dig WITH this…”) Turns out, it was a spa package — massage, facial, manicure, pedicure. It was lovely, of course, but certainly not a rototiller.

The fact that my husband knows me so well, knows that I’d love a kitchen compost crock (or anything else to do with gardening) above anything more conventional or “romantic,” thrills me to no end.

Thanks, sweetie. You’re the best!

You know when you have found your prince because you not only
have a smile on your face but in your heart as well. 
                                                ~ Author Unknown

8 Comments

A bow or a nod?

Wednesday, December 5, 2007 at 4:24 pm (Writing by Ear)
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To tradition, that is. Christmas traditions in particular. What’s your preference? I’m kind of on the fence between wanting every Christmas to be just the same — same decorations in the same place, same cookies, same carols, same rituals — and wanting to mix it up a bit.

Oh, who am I kidding — breaking from tradition is hard for me. My mother still lives in the house we grew up in (well, my oldest siblings remember the house before — really only the 3rd floor apartment of a house — 2 bedrooms — for 7 people — with the bathroom downstairs! — imagine it), but our “real house” has been our house for nearly 50 years. And the Christmas decorations go in the same place always — holly garland and elf doll hanging in one doorway, tinsel and satiny bells on the living room mirror, different holly garland and little pipe cleaner dolls my cousin made 40 years ago on the mantle, manger scene in the (decorative) fireplace…you get the idea. Although the tree has moved around — sometimes in the hall, sometimes in the living room, most recently in the dining room — it’s always on the platform my dad made and always with some goofy plastic light-up angel my mom insists on putting on top.

This year, though, I’m having to break with my own traditions a bit. The tree I’ve had for 10 years or so, and still like, just won’t fit in our house, so we had to opt for one of those skinny, “alpine” trees. It looks neat (still undecorated), but I’m wondering how the ornaments will work and I’m having a few palpitations about only using white lights because I think they look better on it but I have always used colored and white before. And I love the look of those primitive-looking trees, but can’t see going and buying all new “theme” decorations. Heck, I can’t imagine Christmas without the quirky ornaments Diane and I bought on clearance after Christmas at Kaufmann’s about 25 years ago, or the ones acquired over years of annual “ornament exchanges” with my dearest girlfriends, or other special ones I’ve gathered — my “winged” collections of birds and angels especially. (And it’s not just MY tree that has to be the same, R&K had better have a place for all those ornaments I’ve given them over the years. I’ll be looking…I know the cats can’t have broken all of them…)

So while I appreciate all those beautiful and unique trees and rooms that show up in all the decorating magazines, you won’t see a “blue & white” theme at my house this year, or all the presents wrapped alike in recycled brown paper, or 6 oranges in a glass apothecary jar (although, only because I don’t have an apothecary jar and how do you keep the oranges from rotting?).

What you will see is a lot of “festiveness” (last year, with Mike’s and my collections combined, it looked like Santa stopped by and threw up Christmas) — a little country and a little Victoria — a little homespun and a little glitter — a little kitsch and a little class. I guess that all adds up to “eclectic,” but for me, it’s just Christmas. Just the way I like it. (Oh, and Mike too of course 😉

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.
                                ~ Thomas Haynes Bayley

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