my folks on my lapel

It's Christmas time again.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love this season. It's in my blood. I was born to it (Dad was Santa). I was raised in it (Mom made every Christmas wonderful). I'm happily a lifelong citizen of its spirit.

The first Christmas season without Dad, I thought I was holding up pretty well. Like I've said, memories of him are almost universally good, and the joy I feel around Christmas is indefatigable. I went about my business of shopping and wrapping and listening to my supersized playlist of holiday music on loop with light and love in my heart. And then around midnight on Christmas eve, I started to cry. And I didn't stop for two hours.

This is my first Christmas without Dad and Mom. And although Mom's Alzheimer's had long since quelled her holiday zeal, she still reveled in the pretty lights and snow and, most of all, family gathering.

Years ago (actually, many decades ago), Mom crocheted Santa pins for everyone. Every member of the family had one. Then, friends received them. Soon, they were sold at St. Luke's to raise money for the church. Then, Mom set up a craft table wherever Dad was selling his wood carved birds, and she sold the Santa pins along with other knitted goodies. I suspect there are several hundred siblings to my pin roaming the Northeastern U.S. I've worn mine every day of the holiday season every year since I was a kid. At one point recently, I glanced down at it and realized that it is a perfect encapsulation of both of my parents at the holidays. And that makes me happy and truly grateful to have been blessed with such wonderful parents.

Merry Christmas.

tchaikovsky would be proud

This is my little friend, Alia. For Christmas*, we gave her a kit of unadorned wooden nutcrackers along with a paint set. Without any direction, and with amazing determination and drive, she had completed them all in less than two days. Zoom in on this picture. They have handlebar mustaches. It's all very cool.

* We celebrated Christmas with Alia's family weekend before last. Three previous attempts had to be rescheduled for various reasons. If you're wondering, yes, it's fun to have Christmas in almost-March.

the santa pocket

At left is the adorable key chain I bought at a certain fantastic retail location before Christmas. With the push of a tiny button on the back, his lantern lights up and he gives a hearty "Ho! Ho! Ho!" How could I resist such Santa-ness? Unfortunately, one of the links couldn't hold up against my robot clock key chain (at right), which has had much more practice at weathering the battleground that is my keys (mine is the same model as the picture here, though it's pink). So, to keep Santa safe, I tucked him into the outside pocket of my purse. Some other day, I'll go into detail of the screenplay I will someday pen about Santa battling an army of pink robots with clocks on their tummies.

Years ago, my Mom crocheted a lapel decoration for everyone in the family -- a fabulous, yarn brooch of dear old St. Nick, which adorned my overcoat for the holidays. Right around New Year's Day, I removed him from said lapel and, well, tucked him into the outside pocket of my purse.

Today, while looking for something all together unrelated, I stumbled across my Santa stash. And I realized that the same side pocket of my purse also contained an open package of hearing aid batteries. They belonged to my Dad. I'd gone to pick them up to bring them to him at the hospital the day before he died. I know I should donate them to an organization that will give them to someone who really needs them. But I can't bring myself to let them go.

I love my Dad. I miss my Dad. I am blessed that thoughts of him bring me happiness, that I was by his side much of the last week of his life, that we didn't leave important things unsaid. The therapists of the world might say that I have closure. Still, the hearing aid batteries aren't leaving the Santa pocket any time soon.

lasagna and the movies

On this chilly January day, the blast furnace whirred almost constantly, keeping The Warehouse toasty (if moreso in some spots than others). Family visited, and we watched movies on the 10' "screen," ate homemade lasagna, chatted, and played with the cats. Now, everyone has headed home, Ted is sleeping, the blast furnace is off (for now), and I still with chilly calves at the desk -- bemoaning the eventual loss of the Christmas tree which we have still not dismantled, and which occupies a fantastic gap in the room. Tomorrow, I go back to chores. I may wait until the last minute (Tuesday night) to pack up ornaments and twinkle lights, though.

day 5: frustration, then relief!

The slow but steady degradation of my heretofore stalwart digital camera my have reached its nadir; a hair's-breadth before its inevitable demise. It's been through a lot. I've not been gentle with it, and so I should be grateful for its six-ish years of mostly reliable service.

I like taking pictures. Occasionally, I'll even take one I think is actually quite good -- though I appreciate that, more than talent, it's usually a combination of fortunate timing, luck, and sheer quantity (take a thousand pictures, and one is bound to be decent). It has been with some disappointment that I realized my camera is dying. An emotion compounded by the fact that I don't really have the money to replace it at this point.

But tonight, while contemplating a blog post topic and a picture I might take for it, it dawned on me! The various gift cards and cash I received at Christmas can be combined so that I can purchase a new camera! To paraphrase Uma Thurman in "The Truth About Cats and Dogs," it won't be a Ferrari, but it should be a Toyota. Now, off to do some research.

day 3: safe a bit longer

I didn't take down the Christmas tree today, for several reasons. When I was a kid, my parents would keep it up through my sister's and my birthdays. Why stop that tradition now? Plus, we can't put it curbside for another couple days. Why have it sitting inside undecorated? Plus, Epiphany's not until the 6th. Why not go with the 12 Days of Christmas vibe? Any more excuses needed? I think not. I like the tree, and dread the dark hole its absence will create. So, I'm clinging. I'm allowed.

My long list of chores and errands was only moderately decreased. Translation: I had a lazy holiday weekend. Ted & I went out to a movie and dinner yesterday. It felt decadent -- even though it was a matinée, and we were out of the Olive Garden before 5:00pm. It's rare we are able to have such a date. We watched another movie when we got home. The constant, if not epic, snow was conducive to such a film marathon.

Today, Ted's putting in an open-to-close shift. A mere 15 hours. He'll switch off the lights in 6 minutes and be home in 7 -- maybe 8, if the cars don't let him cross the street. Hopefully, it won't be too slippery for him. Did I mention he got ski poles for Christmas? To add stability on his commute. They pair nicely with his crampons.

day 2: don't count on it

Why am I back here? Nothing to report but snowfall and a raging case of the sniffles. Three very snuggly cats and one who refused to join the warmth. A wheat bagel and orange juice for breakfast. The twinkle of Christmas lights, as I refuse to dismantle the tree just yet. Chores and errands to be done, though at the moment, more interest in random online rambling and a 12:50pm showing of "Sherlock Holmes" (we all know how I feel about Robert Downey, Jr.). Until then, I must resist the urge to watch the last two episodes of The Vicar of Dibley, and be minimally productive before brushing off the car and driving to the theater.

boo

Nearly a year. And why now? Because tonight, I experienced the famous straw as never before. Tonight, my favorite lamp was the straw, and I was the camel's back: We broke nearly simultaneously.

There was no reason for me to react the way I did. As disappointed as I was that the lamp broke, and as frustrated as I was about the circumstances that led it to break, and as panicked as I was about all the broken glass, none of those things -- even in concert with each other -- was enough to prompt the full-on tantrum/meltdown that ensued.

Ted was bewildered, concerned... a bit scared. The wife he's known for so many years usually maintains a freakishly even keel. And tonight, she suddenly hit rough seas and near-about capsized!

He tried to calm me down, but was unsuccessful. The cats rapidly made themselves scarce, which was good because they avoided the millions of shards. And in the middle of this wildly disproportionate fit, I found myself wondering why I was pitching it, why there was no OFF button. And so I, too, was something of a witness to the whole episode.

Didn't last long -- a couple minutes, after which, I regained my composure and set about to vacuuming up the bits too small to pick up by hand (Ted got all the big pieces while I was morphing into a crazed puddle). It was an arduous task to be sure. The lamp had truly shattered.

It's done now, and I've since found several places online where I can get replacement shades. So now life goes on. Right? I've folded laundry, chatted about my day with my husband, checked email, read the news, and written a blog entry. Is it necessary for me to analyze all the pieces of straw in my life? Is that the only way to keep my back from breaking again the next time a fly buzzes by and inadvertently adds a speck of straw dust? There are many pieces of straw these days. And my back hurts enough that it's tempting to openly list and/or complain about them (though I might contend that the list itself would be a complaint). This strays way outside my usual optimism, and although it may explain tonight, I know better than to go there. It's time to climb up the slope, not slide down it.

So, let's talk about something more upbeat. Holidays! Here's a great Thanksgiving poem:

"Yam" by Bruce Guernsey

The potato that ate all its carrots,
can see in the dark like a mole,

its eyes the scars

from centuries of shovels, tines.

May spelled backwards

because it hates the light,

pawing its way, paddling along,

there in the catacombs.

Love it. And then there's Christmas.



I'm not ready for Christmas in any way. Some gifts have been procured. But when my hard drive crashed, it ate my list. That means I have to start from scratch as to who gets what and how much budget is left for everyone, and therefore how much more shopping needs to be done. I'm braving Black Friday with my sister and my Christmas Club money. But I'm not appropriately prepared for it. At a time in the process when I'm typically done or close to it. And I'm still trying to imagine Christmas without my own personal Santa -- Dad.

Oops. Just slipped down a bit. I should call it a night, an entry, a year, and get some sleep. Maybe I'll blog again next August.

in case you forgot

i'm just sayin'

i don't have to dream

And here in New Hampshire, it will definitely be a white one. Despite my earlier rant on the bombardment of stormy weather, it's always nice to have snow for Christmas.

Listening to lots of my favorite Christmas songs these days. Just heard this upbeat little number, and decided to share it with you. I've actually put video of Bianca Ryan here before. Well, here she is again.

If I'm not back blogging before Tuesday, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

miscellany

It's the Christmas season, which means I'm revelling in the spirit. Thanks to my friend, Rina, who's let me use her house as my Christmas Central, and five trips to that house later, all of our wrapping was completed a few weeks ago. That leaves me stress-free, so I can be chipper to watch sentimental old movies, enjoy all the lights and decorations, and listen to my insanely huge holiday music playlist. I love Christmas!

The blog's been quiet for a while. I'm still trying to balance three jobs, one of which keeps me working until past midnight five days a week. Other life things have cropped up in amongst the schedule, and the blog is one of many hobbies that suffer. There are two things in particular I just had to share today, so I'm squeezing in a little time to get them posted before heading out to the next series of tasks.

My friend, Chris, invited me to her Facebook community today. When I looked at her profile, I found she'd created an avatar of herself a la South Park. How freakin' cool is that? So, naturally, I had to go find the website and make one for myself. Knowing my proclivity toward certain characteristics in previous avatars, I made two versions. One that I'll show at a later date when I'm feeling particularly kooky. The other fits my standard (look right). Bonus that I got to add an iPod and a computer!

The other thing I wanted to share is a website/campaign that rallies against one of my least favorite people, MeMe Roth (I'm not linking to her site her because she doesn't deserve the traffic). Now, it's not keeping with the holiday spirit to dislike someone, especially so vehemently. In general, I attempt to focus on the behavior, not the person (parenting advice I learned years ago and never needed to implement because I have no kids!). But MeMe strikes me as someone who totally and utterly embodies the bad behavior she purports. At the tip of the iceberg is her claim that obesity is tantamount to child abuse. As a pacifist, I could slug her in the jaw for that.

Anyhoo, MeMe has taken it upon herself to attack Santa Claus because he sets a bad example ('cuz he's fat, doncha' know). Seriously. I mean... SERIOUSLY. The woman is shameless. Thankfully, there's DVA Advertising and Public Relations -- a company who decided to create a campaign encouraging the integrity of Santa's image. Check it out! My favorite part is the "graphic standards manual" for Santa. And the best part is the petition, where every signature translates to a pound of food for America's Second Harvest. Take THAT, Ms. Roth.

Santa rules!

good tidings

It's the night before Thanksgiving, and I got out of work two hours early! What will I do with this extra time?

1. Re-sync my iPod to include only the HOLIDAY MUSIC playlist. In progress right now.

2. Write our holiday newsletter. In one night. Really.

If you know me well, you can stop laughing about that second one. I will not be doing the typical elaborate desktop publishing style newsletter as is my habit. Next year. For now, I just need to send holiday cheer and give a quick update.

So, no more blogging for me. I have things to do!

Happy Thanksgiving.

storius interruptus

OK, so I only got out one chapter of my story, and already I'm changing subjects! Actually, I've starting writing chapter two, but I just haven't had the time to finish. I could finish it now, but a few shiny objects flickered, and my attention has been caught! Is it because I already dread the drudgery of writing what will undoubtedly be a gazillion chapter explanation of what's new in our lives and what got us to this point? Perhaps. Is it mere instinctual behavior to be more interested in something new (and shiny) than something middle-aged and simmering? Hmm. Maybe it's just a complete lack of mental structure. Whatever. My eye is now on the shiny ball.

So, first. One! If you weren't already aware, it's only



Yes, that's right! Christmas! As you know, I'm a year 'round Christmas shopper. I'm nearly done, and I have my list ready to finish shopping (yes, that's right, finish) this weekend. Then, Monday is a holiday from my primary job (which will be detailed in an upcoming chapter of the original, derailed story), and so I'm spending the day putting together the "stockings" for the kids and wrapping all the rest. It will probably take me 14 hours. No, I'll be lucky if it only takes me 14 hours. OK, so I probably won't finish wrapping on Monday, but I'm going to make a hell of a dent. I'm imposing myself on Rina, her family, and her house as my Christmas Central location this year. A decision she's likely regret by Columbus Day lunchtime.

Two! Dearingest, darlingest niece, Caitlin, has posted a unique meme on her MySpace in which I feel compelled to engage. It's music-based (natch), so of course I'm in. Here goes:

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

So, here's how it works:

1. Open your music library
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool

Opening Credits: "Isolation" by Snow Patrol

Waking Up: "Screen" by Brad

First Day At School: "The Wind" by Cat Stevens

Falling In Love: "How Far to Queensland" by Vitamin Z

Fight Song: "Legs" by ZZ Top

Breaking Up: "Blueberry Pies" by Prefab Sprout

Prom: "Peer Gynt Suite" by Edvard Grieg

Life: "Can't Nobody Do Me Like Jesus" by Olabelle

Mental Breakdown: "Frosty the Snowman" by Dan Tyminski

Driving: "Gentle Hum" by The Finn Brothers

Flashback: "Star" by Belly

Getting Back Together: "Cerca de Mi" by Raul Midon and Louie Bega

Wedding: "Hands Clean" by Alanis Morrisette

Birth of Child: "Eastern Bloc" by Thomas Dolby

Final Battle: "Killer" by Seal

Death Scene: "Call Me When You Get This" by Corinne Bailey Rae

Funeral Song: "Dreamin'" by Amos Lee

End Credits: "Runnin'/Brazilian Rhyme" by Earth Wind & Fire

OK, that was totally weird. As much as I want to go into the details of how some songs completely suited their role ("Blueberry Pies") and others completely didn't (Grieg at the prom!), I'm now officially too tired to do so. That situation has also led me to this point:

Three! I don't remember what else I was going to put in here tonight. Um, I mean, this morning. Oh well! I have to go to bed. It's almost time for Ted to wake up and get to work. I may or may not get some blogging in this weekend. I doubt it. Shopping, wrapping, etc. to do. And we're going out to dinner for our anniversary. And there's other stuff to do. Yeah, I'll blog again sometime in 2009 -- the year my nephew, Andrew, is getting married. Hey, Four! Andrew and Peg are engaged! He was funny. He called me and said gloomily, "Hi Aunt Kelly. I just wanted to let you know that things changed over the weekend, and Peg is no longer my girlfriend." But I was on to him. ;-)

All right. Sleep!

Song: "The Pretender" by Foo Fighters
Book: What's a book? What's reading? Am I even literate anymore?
Other: "Scattered" is one of my favorite adjectives when referencing current brain status.

conflicted

Here are some things that I've thought about in the past few days, any of which I could write up in detail were I capable of allowing it to stand apart from the pack. Alas, they all mix together in a confusing and perplexing manner.

1. Virginia Tech massacre. There is nothing I can say about this without merely repeating all the sentiments of horror and disbelief being broadcast by every medium in America. The high school where two of my nephews and one of my nieces attend was locked down yesterday because of a bomb threat. Scary, scary. And so very sad.

2. Everest: Beyond the Limit. I just spent three days watching this series, which we TiVo'd last year, and have been dreaming about it every night. I came to two conclusions about these climbers: [1] They are all insane, and [2] If they survive any portion of the attempt, whether or not they summit, they are among the toughest people on earth. Still insane, but tough.

3. Planet Earth. Another riveting series (no, I don't just watch TV).

4. Hygiene, etc... . I no longer use any post-shampoo product (conditioner, mousse, hairspray) and do not blow dry my hair. I only apply make-up if I'm meeting someone I know. If I do not need to go out of the house for the day, I also save showering (but only for one day, never for two). I will not get my hair cut or colored until it's time to start interviewing. I am also only wearing my casual clothes (see next point), so as not to increase any wear and tear on my "professional" wardrobe. This may be mildly useless, as I hope to procure a new wardrobe before I re-enter the work force.

5. My recent housewife-ish day. I met a friend for lunch, then went to the grocery store, Costco, the post office, gas station, and Trader Joe's. I did household chores, cooked dinner, cleaned up afterwards, and spent a lovely evening with my husband. I was a marvel of domesticity. I went out in public wearing a sun dress and keds, but the chilly air required more so I threw on my suede jacket. I thought it was a weird combination, until I saw a woman at Stop & Shop wearing lounge pants and a fur coat.

6. Food fight. It's hard finding anything with less than 140 milligrams of sodium per serving. Go ahead, try it. Look at every box, bag, or can in your pantry, fridge, and freezer, and tell me how many you find. And I'm not even talking bout "bad" food. Try finding spaghetti sauce, cottage cheese, deli meat, or soup. "Reduced sodium" in Campbell's world means 660 mg. per serving (because regular soup has 900 mg.).

7. Christmas gifts. I have procured my first eight Christmas gifts and approximately 20 stocking stuffers. Only 251 days 'til Christmas.

8. House dreams. There is a house for sale I can't stop thinking about, even though its asbestos roof needs to be replaced, along with every single drafty, 80-year old window (about 42 of them, if I'm counting correctly). I want to live in this house. Oh yeah, and we both need new jobs as this house is approximately 200 miles from our current location. Minor detail.

9. Sanjaya was finally voted off last night. It was just wrong that LaKisha and Blake were in the bottom three. Interestingly, they seemed to be very close -- first holding hands while center stage awaiting the ejection, which didn't seem out of the ordinary (other than the fact that LaKisha was not also holding Sanjaya's hand), until we saw Blake wiping away LaKisha's tears while Sanjaya sang his goodbye. Isn't it interesting how a quick camera shot here or there can create an impression all its own, even if it's not the right one?

10. Our cats are incredibly cute. Recent evidence includes Woodle's routine of snuggling up against my bed pillows mid-morning and staying there all day long, the tuxedos performing simultaneous head baths, and Sadie randomly waking from her naps to chirp a request to be petted.

11. It's way too late for me to be up and rambling about the juxtapositions in life. Good night.

Song: "Seven Days" by Sting
Reading Material: "The Audacity of Hope" by Barack Obama
Other: See above list

happy holidays

simply the best

I've said it before, and I'm saying it again. No offense to other great vocal groups of the world, Take 6 is just head-and-shoulders above the rest. I was lucky enough to hear about them when their first album was released in 1988, which has allowed me to follow their career and quickly procure each album as it came out. I also had the great good fortune to see them perform live at the Puyallup Fair in 1994. Despite the down-home atmosphere of the venue and inexplicable poor turnout, their performance was stunning. The harmony was spot-on, their energy was unequalled, and the arrangements were absolutely incredible.

I'm effusing all over the place here, aren't I? Are you getting the idea that I love these guys? Part of the reason for the timing of this rave is that they have a good deal of Christmas music, so they are regularly intermingled as I immerse myself in the shuffle of 1171 holiday songs. Theirs is uplifting, joyful, and reverent music (even when it's not Christmas-specific) which allows me to sing along loudly and badly and still feel accomplished and connected. Thank God for Take 6.

believe

The Four Phases of Life

1. You believe in Santa Claus
2. You don't believe in Santa Claus
3. You are Santa Claus
4. You look like Santa Claus

I told this to my Dad last year around this time. A veteran Santa, he laughed heartily. Then he said, "except one thing... I never stopped believing."

Me neither, Dad.

"Song for a Winter's Night" by Sarah McLachlan

bad christmas music

It's been a busy day, finishing up Christmas preparations. Although I usually listen to my own holiday music collection at all times (iTunes while on the computer, and my iPod at work), I do occasionally venture into other sources. In the car, for example, I listen to Sirius satellite radio, which has three of its channels dedicated to holiday music now. It is on one of these channels driving home last night that I have discovered a truly dreadful Christmas song.

Now, I think most Christmas music is good. Some of it is great, and a fair deal of it is downright classic. But every once in a while, a song will just completely rub me the wrong way. A few years ago, it was "Kentucky Homemade Christmas" by Kenny Rogers. I still think it's awful. And with the exception of "O Come All Ye Faithful," the late, great, legendary crooner, Luther Vandross --in my opinion -- murdered every holiday song he touched. There's one song that, in addition to having ridiculous introductory banter ("the last time you got me under the mistletoe, I had twins!") and being just a bad song in general, has the unfortunate title of "Mistletoe Jam." Take the "mistle" out and what do you get? Toe jam. What an appealing holiday image!

So, what is the newest menace to the holiday spirit? "The Christmas Shoes" by NewSong. I think it's actually a few years old, and I've just had the good fortune to have avoided it until now.

Oh, the horror! So horrible, in fact, that I must post it here for you to witness. If I had to listen to this train wreck, so do you. Press the button! Press it, I say!



I'm listening to a real song and preparing to get some sleep. To all, a good night.

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" by the Pretenders

we are elves: we dance

I have requested -- nay, demanded -- that all of my nieces and nephews perform this task. The first four are in, and I must post them here. In a pre-emptive attempt to avoid their potential claims that I'm embarrassing them on the internet, I'm posting my own final product first. See? It's all in good fun!

OK, so here's Aunt Kelly's elf dance.

Now, here's Andrew's.

And here's Caitlin's.

Here's Dan's.

Here's Sammi's.

Is it worthwhile to note that the college students were the first to reply? I wonder if they have some spare time on their hands. ::wink:: The second phase of elves include Dan, who is a high school junior, and Sammi, who is in 8th grade. Now Josh, Megan, Ariel, Courtney, and Ryan must all comply with my demand! *UPDATED - Don't you guys realize that I'm still in possession of your gifts? Bend to my will and elf thyself! Or I shall be forced to keep the goodies for myself! Or use the worst possible photo I have of you and make your elf myself!

Sadie is intrigued by the on-screen dancing (to the right). She watches the monitor closely as I view Sammi in full elf regalia.

This little blog of mine (I'm a-gonna' let it shine? just kidding) has a few regular readers. Hi Regular Readers, and thanks so much for visiting regularly! And there are a few passersby who happen across sanguinary blue by hitting the "next blog" button, going to Connecticut Weblogs or Forty Faces, or coming from a blog that links to mine. Hi Passersby, thanks for taking the time to peruse. And then there are the searchers who end up reading one of my silly little posts when they've entered keywords into one of a zillion engines. Hi All!

To this wonderful melting pot assemblage of an audience, I'd like to request that you, too, make your own dancing elf. It's easy! And it's fun! And when you're done, please post the URL in the comments section of this entry. Christmas is all about sharing.

Thanks to Whitney at USA Today's Pop Candy for blogging about The Elfamorphosis. Otherwise, we never would have had so much fun becoming elves!

Happy Holidays!

"Christmas Don't Be Late" by Powder (a kick-butt cover of the Chipmunks' song, which was simply called "The Chipmunk Song")

Originally posted 12/6/2006 at 11:53PM
Second posting 12/8/06 at 6:17AM
Third positing 12/9/06 at 11:45AM