Whoville Trees

I love Christmas.  I've switched my calendar to December 2 days early, just so I could see Christmas on the calendar.  I've got the Frank Sinatra Christmas Pandora station rocking.  I've planned and schemed and thought up reasons to make Christmas cookies.  I want to have a party, just for an excuse to make 8 doz different cookies, even though parties are a lot of trouble.  I've made plans to visit family and stockpiled presents and generally gotten in the mood.

Oh, and we got a tree.  EEK!

I love Christmas trees.  Remember, I didn't always have a real Christmas tree.  No sir, Dante wouldn't indulge my whims for the first couple of years of our marriage.  See?

But then the Mister got wise to the fact that I was determined to have a tree, despite his attempts to squash my Christmas spirit (Seriously, the man likes to pretend he's a scrooge.  He said our child is not allowed to like Christmas.  That he's going to beat our kid on Christmas each year so that they despise the holiday as much as he pretends too.  Truth be told, I think he kind of likes the season, he just doesn't know how to admit it.  Oh, and he'd never beat anyone, except at cards, and only because he cheats.)

Anyhow, this year, I tried to up the ante and go to a "cut your own" place.  We've got a good two years of real Christmas trees behind us, and it felt like it was time to make the leap.  So we went to a place near us, that boasted of White Pines and Something Blue and a few types of Cedars...  it was a gamble, but we tried it.  And when we got there, I would have sworn I was in Whoville.  (Seriously, who know Whoville was in rural SC, past the fallen down trailers and over-stuffed garages in what looked to be a Hoarders paradise?)

Are you seeing what I'm seeing?
Anyone else see trees that have obviously been popped open like an umbrella?

How about now?
Seriously, they wanted you to take a tree like this home, and make it your Christmas tree.
I've never seen them like this!
The ones in the background look even more weird and animated-like!

What I Haven't Shared

Most of my life is an open book.  You know when I've baked too much, what I wear on my feet, and how really really ridiculous my dog is.  But one of the reasons I started this was to be more open about my actual self, not just the witty, self-depreciating, creating-addicted self.  To give more voice to the me that I felt few people knew.  

So I did that for a while.  I shared what was on my heart, even when it was ugly or worrisome or embarrassing.  And then lately, I've been avoiding it.  Really, ever since I got back from PA.  Heck, maybe even before I left. But purposefully, I've been avoiding my heart ever since PA. 

Oh, lovely PA...

The trip was fantastic, and I got to see so many friendly faces.  The love they poured out for me & D'man and this bambino was overwhelming.  And then, Sunday morning, I went to church.  The sermon was on... something.  Something about not hoarding.  I was paying attention, don't get me wrong, but I was also just basking in the feeling of being in the place where I had grown up in my faith.  Just enjoying it.  Then came the wrap-up.  Pastor T, he said something to the effect of, "How do you apply this?  How does this actually impact your life?  Well I'm glad you asked." and he went on to say that, while most of us struggle with a storage issue - too much stuff, there are those not too very far away that struggle because they have nothing.  

Let's just say, he had my attention.

Then he said that winter was coming, and up in PA, it gets cold.  He had been in contact with some homeless organizations, and they named a lack of shoes and coats as their chief problem for winter.  So today, prepared or not, they would be collecting our coats and shoes.  If you wanted to give them.  If you could give them.  If God so moved you to give them.

Reliving My Glory Days

I always had a packed lunch in school.  The only days I would try to not pack a lunch were nacho Fridays.

Yum.

Anyhow, I wasn't always proud to have a packed lunch.  At the same time, there was no way I was eating "Turkey Surprise".  It was a bit touch and go.

But these, these were one of my favorite parts of a packed lunch, right along with Gushers and Fruit Roll-Ups.  My favorites:

Remember These??
I loved these.

Until checking Amazon for this blog post, I had been unable to find them in stores.  Didn't even know that Betty Crocker makes them.  Good 'ole Bett. 

However, in case you can't find them, and you've got a hankering (you're welcome), I wanted to introduce you to the grown-up version... in a manner of speaking.

It's a Honey Teddy Graham wearing a hat of canned icing.  He looks quite dashing, don't you think?    You can also dress these guys in icing pants, a half jacket, or pretend that he's stuck in a snow storm of icing snow.  Apparently, one of the hidden blessings of Dunkaroos was that they came in a limited amount.  If you've got a whole box of Teddy Grahams and a whole can of icing, you have to be the one to put a stop to the madness.  It's hard to make a mature decision like that when you feel 11 years old again.

I loved 11,

TFW

Top of My Christmas List

***Don't forget there is a giveaway going on RiGhT nOw!***

***until 12/2/11***

I clearly can't lay bare everything I'm wishing for for Christmas, not yet.  Santa is the only one who needs to know.  But, I will reveal this much:  The following item from craigslist is at the very tip top of my list.

Covered Wagon Twin Bed - $350 (Greenville)

It's a twin bed frame, shaped like a covered wagon.

Do you know why??

So I can Caulk the wagon and Float it!!! I love me some Oregon Trail.  Golly, we used to walk to the public library after school to get in 30 minutes (there was a time limit) on one of the 3 computers there and play Oregon Trail, on floppy disks.  It was everything a childhood memory should be.

Samantha has died of Snakebite,

TFW

Tree Trimming of Christmas's Past

After T-day, I'm not feeling very trim.  But that's not the point here.  

The tree is the point.  It is up, and it is trim.  Trim-izzled, if you will.

And I'd like you to know that this is no small wonder for me.  Last year was my first real tree in the South, as Handsome had some strong feelings about putting up a Christmas tree when we weren't here for Christmas anyhow (we run to the cold North for Christmas frivolity).  Strong feelings, as in, conversations that went like this:

M: Can we get a Christmas tree this year?

H: You mean a real one?

M: Yes.

H: Oh, because you love Christmas and a tree makes it feel like the holidays?

M: Yes.

H: You mean the holiday that we're not actually going to be here for?

M: ... yes...

H: Oh, I see. NO.

And like this:

H: Christmas trees are ridiculous.

M: What?! Why?

H: Really, holidays are ridiculous in general.  Think about it.  At Christmas, we take a tree from the outside and bring it inside.  At Easter, we take eggs out of the fridge, which is inside, and, put them in the grass.  It's just weird.  And ridiculous.  It makes no sense, and so we're not going to participate in it.

31 Days: Homesick

I have come to the realization that I will not even come close to doing this for 31 days.  Which, in a way, is a good thing, as I've sort of hit a wall with the number of "Home"-words I can think of.  I can't get my mind off of "Homeopathic" and I don't even fully know the definition of that one.  The reason for not hitting the 31 days, other than missing the first 3 or so, is because I don't have internet at our new house yet, and I rarely bring my pictures to my office, so I can't post pictures.  And really, what is a post without pictures?  An empty shell, that's what.  And no one likes empty shells, save for hermit crabs who need a new home.

As a result of the no-internet-no-pictures thing, I'm going to be taking a lot of pics from google this month.
I will try to cite them, because I desire a clean conscience above many things.
This one is from here

I had a hermit crab once.  Well, probably more than once; we got them when we went to the beach every October for about 4 years.  There is one instance of a hermit crab that I remember, though.  I don't remember his name (probably something unique like "Crabbie"), but I do remember our one great day of play.  I had a miniature-lego-wagon-thing, and I was pulling him around in it.  I'm sure he was having as much fun as I was.  And then something else happened somewhere else, and my 6-yr-old brain forgot about Crabbie.  Hours later, I came back to an empty wagon that was unfortunately parked beside a small hole in the floor that fed down to our furnace.  Bye bye Crabbie.  

While that above story is no doubt heart-rending, you may be wondering what it has to do with being homesick.  Nothing.  And somethings.  I'll get to it.

Great Memories

It was touch & go tonight.  I thought I might just cry.  Not because anything bad was happening, as I've already talked about yesterday - it's all good things going on.  But it just became nearly unbearable tonight.  That knot of stress just sat in my stomach and made me miserable.

I didn't think I'd be able to sleep tonight.  This situation called for some serious action  in the form of comfort food.  I was at the store, and it just seemed right:

Yes, I planned to eat this, and nothing else, for dinner.
No, I don't feel bad about that even a bit.

But then, well, as I was sitting for just a moment with my feet up, on the couch, with my regular bowl mixing bowl full of cereal, the unthinkable happened - I poured it everywhere.  My lap, my pillow, my floor, my couch.  I think Duke even has a few still on his back.

Confetti left over from a party?
Or my worst fears realized?

Four Square Summer Memories

The list of Things I Love about South Carolina just seems to keep growing.  I love the dirt track races.  I love the Magnolia trees.  I love the phrase “Bless him out” as a euphemism for “Cuss him out”.  There’s more things, but it’s a certain characteristic about this place that I’ve grown to love, right down to my core.

In the summer, it feels like church camp.

It does!  It has felt like summer camp for the past two months, and I expect it to go at least one, if not two, more.  From the time I was 7 until… I don’t know, 15?  16?  I went to church camp every summer.  From 7-12, I was a camper, from 13-16 (15?) I was a teen helper, and then years later I came back as a coordinator of sorts.  So believe me when I say, I know church camp.  And this summer weather down here, well, it feels just like it.

In the morning, when the air is so heavy with humidity and its already 82*, I forget myself for a moment and imagine that I’m coming out of my bunk house and have a big day of swimming and chapel and four square ahead of me.  I think, “Maybe I’ll go swing for a while before breakfast, perhaps catch a game of tether ball before they ring the bell.”

These kids, they're not even playing Four Square.
I could so skool them.
They're playing ABCD-square.
Dummies.

Comfort Food

Well folks, it was touch and go for a while, but we're nearly there.  

One might say, we've arrived.

Tomorrow is my last Friday at work.

Yep.

I'm pretty pumped.  I'm also pretty tired, so if these words seem a little flat, its because they are.  But I'm excited, deep down inside.  I'm also planning on going to bed around 9, so don't worry about me, I'll be right as rain tomorrow.

I still have a "Last Monday," "Last Tuesday," "Last Wednesday," and "Last Day".  But I'm all about celebrating things.

To celebrate, I'm going all comfort food on myself tonight.  And to me, that means one thing.  

The shapes taste best.
Spirals are gross.
Elbows are okay

This box (albeit with different/no characters) really takes me back, as all good comfort food should.  And so I'll share two of these stories with you.  Mostly to have them written down for posterity.  Both of these stories happened when I was about 7.

I was homeschooled (yes, that might explain some things) for 3rd, 4th, and 6th grade.  5th grade was rough.  I nearly failed math.  I don't like to talk about it.  ANYhow, for 3rd & 4th grade, mostly, I was a pretty good worker and could get most of my self-instruction work finished by 11AM.  I had a strong motivation, to get it finished by that particular time, because, at 11AM on channel 8, my all-time favorite show would come on.  And if I were finished and my sister was not, then I got to pick the television show to watch during lunch.

What show?  Well, obviously what any red-blooded 7-year-old would pick, duh.