Entry for December 29, 2006 - The Party's Over...

The party is over,... before it has even begun...

Christmas is finally over. The presents all unwrapped, the last of the Christmas cards no longer trickling in the mail. The tray of sweet confections looking sad and forlorn and almost empty, pilaged for coconut bonbons, peanut butter balls, and the cherry mash. Bright Christmas lights still twinkle in the night from far off houses down the block, but somehow not as festive looking as when they first appeared. My new little Christmas tree, how proud and tall it stood for it's few days. Soon after the holiday in the middle of one day,...it just fell over and went..."kerplunk", as if to say,.... it is done. The party is over....

Well, that is til New Year's.

I have never been one to get too excited about the New Year. Most years I don't even stay up til the stroke of midnight. It's just another day to me. I have been reading blogs on the history of celebrations and traditions and superstitions, and I don't think I have done even one of them. I have never had black eyed peas, eaten greens, or followed any of the suggestions for a prosperous new year. Perhaps I should, perhaps there really is something to it, but then again perhaps not.

This year though, I am prepared. I have bought my bottle, or dare I say "bottles" to ring in the New Year....

My bottle of aspirin.
My bottle of Tylenol.
My bottle of Ibuprofen.
My bottle of cough syrup
My bottle of Pepto Bismal.
My bottle of vitamin C tablets.

Served along with a dose of hearty appetizers of Sudafed, Nyquil, cough drops and a large box of kleenex.

I got an extra present at Christmas,.... someone gave me their cold and flu.



But the party must go on.....Prop me in a corner somewhere, and stick a mirror under my nose from time to time to see that I am still breathing.




"Cough......cough.......groan......kerplunk"

Entry for December 24, 2006 - At Christmas

AT CHRISTMAS...

A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here;
Then he's thinking more of others than be thoughts the months before,
And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for.
He is less a selfish creature than at any other time;
When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime.

When it's Christmas man is bigger and is better in his part;
He is keener for the service that is prompted by the heart.
All the petty thoughts and narrow seem to vanish for awhile
And the true reward he's seeking is the glory of a smile.
Then for others he is toiling and somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas he is almost what God wanted him to be.

If I had to paint a picture of a man I think I'd wait
Till he'd fought his selfish battles and had put aside his hate.
I'd not catch him at his labors when his thoughts are all of pelf,
On the long days and the dreary when he's striving for himself.
I'd not take him when he's sneering, when he's scornful or depressed,
But I'd look for him at Christmas when he's shining at his best.

Man is ever in a struggle and he's oft misunderstood;
There are days the worst that's in him is the master of the good,
But at Christmas kindness rules him and he puts himself aside
And his petty hates are vanquished and his heart is opened wide.
Oh, I don't know how to say it, but somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas man is almost what God sent him here to be.

by Edgar Guest

Entry for December 23, 2006 - The Path of Least Resistance

There comes a time in life when you realize it is easier to take the path of least resistance.

There also comes a time when you realize you have turned into your mother.

Today, it was both....

I use to always tease my mom about becoming like her own mother. My grandmother is quite an eccentric character. She is a hoarder and a saver. I am sure that a lot of it is from living thru the Great Depression. She will save anything she thinks that might be of use. Thankfully she has not gotten to the point of there just being paths in her house, but she does have more than her fair share of "stuff" lying about.

I have mentioned in other blogs how my grandmother is a tiny woman. She eats like a bird. That is why it is so ironic that she should have in her house, more than one refrigerator, and two freezers. Each one of them is packed with food. Some in bags, some in containers, all labeled neatly with a date of when it was encased in it's frozen tomb.

The main problem is that one woman can not eat that much, nor does she know or remember where she has put the neatly labeled leftovers. She will dig for hours for a beef roast that she bought two weeks ago, and in the event that she can not find it, she will buy another one to cook for family that comes to visit the next day. It's easier....just to give up and go buy another one. I am not sure if she continues to look for the misplaced roast after her company has gone, or if she just adds another package of neatly labled leftovers to her burgeoning stash of frozen foods. Some of which, I know have not seen, nor will see the light of day for probably another decade. It makes me nervous thinking about my mom becoming just like her mom. I am glad to report that my mom only has one fridge, and one freezer.

When my oldest brother got married, my mom was determined to find just the right dress to wear to the occassion. The colors the bride chose for her wedding were black and red, so my mother picked out a very suitable and pretty black dress. She wore it to my brother's wedding and looked nice in it. It wasn't even a year later, when she found herself invited to another wedding. She claimed she had to go shopping...shopping for another new dress. I asked her about the dress she wore to my brother's wedding. In complete seriousness she looked me in the eye and said she couldn't wear it. I asked her why, and her reply...."because I would have to iron it".

I know there had to be a look of pure dumbfoundedness on my face. I thought back to those hours and hours we went from store to store to find that dress, and she would not wear it again because she would have to iron it!

I remember as a child my mom ironing. The more I thought of it, I couldn't remember my mom ironing so much as we go older and in high school. Today my mom refuses to buy anything that requires ironing or dry cleaning. For her, the path of least resistance,...(or getting out of ironing), more than made up for the time and cost involved in shopping.

I start to worry more when I think about things being hereditary....

Today I braved the crowds of last minute shoppers. I brought home a box that was only about 5 inches wide, and 3 and a half feet long. In that small box was a 4 foot tall Christmas tree (once it was unfolded),complete with it's own stand and bought on clearance... dirt cheap. A few moments of adjusting the flattened branches and it was placed on top of a large crock, and standing proudly in the corner. After only a couple of minutes of crawling over the lawn mower and a tiller in the garage, to get to the rubbermaid tote of stored Christmas decorations,... I had my tree up and decorated. One strand of lights, one long beaded garland (wrapped many,many times around the tree) 2 dozen assorted red ornaments and one star for the top of my new tree.... Well once the star cooperated..... The uppermost point of the tree had to be bent back down and doubled to support the star, or else it drooped much like a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

I stood back to admire my handi-work. The tree (looking very much like a manical lumberjack had stolen the bottom of it), otherwise was going to pass muster. I thought of the old artificial 7 foot Christmas tree out in the garage in a box that had been taped and retaped dozens of times. Of the two wood green sticks that made it's trunk, the individual branches each color coded and having to be sorted thru and then poked in it's coordinating hole. The numerous attempts to try and balance the tree in it's stand, while not having it fall over or lean too badly. The many strands of lights, and decorations, and boxes of other ornamentation of Christmas's past.

Today I have my tree up.....

I took the path of least resistance, and for just a moment, I knew what my mom meant about the ironing.

Entry for December 22, 2006 - Three French Hens....

Well here it is....three days before Christmas. No my blog isn't really going to be about three French hens, but I had planned on doing a blog of Vic's 12 days of Christmas starting with my 12 excuses for not having anything done, and then ending with one Christmas tree in it's box. Time got away, I still don't have everything done, and the tree is still in the box out in the top of the garage.

But I have made progress....

Tuesday afternoon I was a woman on a mission. I hooked up with my mom and we were going shopping. We were both going to get done. I use to think two heads are better than one when it came to shopping. We would divide and conquer. I am not so sure we conquered much except for our checkbooks. I was in the mall, looking at scarves and matching hats. They were funky, and glittery, and wispy, and just the kind of thing that would be perfect for my two nieces. It's hard to shop for kids that are no longer kids, but still aren't quite teenagers either. I put the scarf back on the rack to get another one, the first one was missing it's tag. In less than the span of 2 seconds, the scarf was snatched up by an elderly woman in a grey coat.

I hurried over to another rack to look at sweatshirts, the woman soon followed me. She peered over my shoulder and then looked at the other side of the rack directly across from me. There I was in the mall being stalked by a little old lady. I was ready to call for security, and have them rush in with their tazer guns and haul her away. But I soon realized, she wasn't stalking me......she was desperate. She was another one of those panicked last minute shoppers who hadn't a clue. I wanted to yell across the rack at her, I can't help you... I am in my own shopping H E double hockey sticks. I ended up loosing her in the baby aisle but I did pick up a cute pink furry jacket with matching teddybear hat with ears.... No, the jacket isn't for me, but for my brother's newest grandbaby.

I went to the post office to mail two packages. I stood in line forever. Monday was suppose to be the busiest day for the Post Office, so I figure Tuesday shouldn't be as bad. When I finally made it up to the desk and handed over my two packages I was asked how I wanted them sent. I refrained from retorting thru the mail...duh... Then the postmaster rambled thru the different kinds of shipping. Five to seven business days it would be 10 bucks, or if I wanted I could get guaranteed delivery for the next day for 30+ dollars. I looked at the package that I had just insured for 50 dollars and mumbled I will take the first one. Good grief,... take it by the pony express at those rates, just so long as it gets there before the kid grows out of the clothes is all I ask.

I came home and wrapped and wrapped in a frenzy. In between breaks I would make more candy for plates to be delivered this week-end. I checked over my list, crossing off things I just wasn't going to get done. I made big slashes thru all the cookies. Everyone makes cookies, forget the cookies, I would concentrate on just the candy. I got to looking over the stuff I had made and realized hmmmm, I have a lot of chocolate stuff. Fudge, cherry mash, peanut clusters, they all had chocolate. Chocolate mint bonbons, coconut bonbons dipped in chocolate, was there anything I had made that didn't have chocolate? I spied the peanut brittle...ah ha!..no chocolate. I started to figure up all the pounds of sugar, and butter, and chocolate I had used, and I winced. I would be personally responsible for at least 50 people in the tri-state area putting on 2 pounds from the sweets. But I blew it off....it's Christmas, you can't have Christmas without chocolate. I am sure Sue and Mike of the blogging world will understand. I did have visions though, of them tieing me to their bowflex as some sort of torture device and making me row or ski, or whatever it is that a bowflex does while they cracked the whip and whispered fiendishly in my ear..."no more chocolate". I want to yell out that I have cut back, I am not making cookies that has to count for something!

Or I thought I wasn't going to make cookies.... Zim posted not one but two blogs on gingerbread. Doesn't she know that gingersnaps and molasses cookies are my favorite Christmas cookies? I got to weakening and told myself, okay just one batch of gingersnaps for me. In the next minute I was telling myself ...no...no more cookies. I still don't know which side of me will win that debate.

I finished all my shopping, and all the wrapping is done. I sat down and wrapped till I got every parcel encased in bright paper and ribbons while jamming out to Stevie Nicks, Heart, and Bon Jovi....no Christmas carols for me this year...I am caroled out. My packages are all piled up around....the lazyboy. I had a small moment of giggling fits while thinking of stringing lights on the recliner, but I got control of myself. Eventually I might get the tree up,..... I still have time.

As I sit here drinking my diet coke, I mentally pat myself on the back. Surrounded by all that candy and I haven't gotten into any of it. Well, I did have one peanut butter ball,... but peanut butter is good for you.
Still, I have resisted, I will pack it up and give it all away.....Okay I might have licked a spoon, or a bowl along the way.... There might be just one or two sticky fingers.

I really should get back to work. Still have pretzels to dip and toffee to make. Plates to make up, and a tree to find.

One more sip of my diet coke....and I am off....

.....to secretly lick the chocolate off my keyboard.

Entry for December 20, 2006 - Cherry Mash

I mentioned the other day I was busy making candy for Christmas and one of the things I made was candy mash. I thought everyone knew what cherry mash was, the recipe is based on an old fashioned candybar (if you can call it a bar) that is popular here in the midwest. Cherry mash has been around for decades and it consists of a cherry flavored center covered in chocolate and peanuts. The candy is shaped like a "mound" and is sold individually. To make the homemade recipe version it is made in a 9 x 13 inch pan and cut into squares when the candy has set up....

.... For Bonnie, and Mac, and anyone else who has never had cherry mash......


CHERRY MASH

2 cups sugar
2/3 cup evaporated milk
12 large marshmallows
1/2 cup butter
dash of salt
6 oz.package of cherry flavored chips (about 1 cup)
1 teaspoon vanilla
12oz. package chocolate chips
3/4 cup peanut butter
12 oz. crushed salted peanuts

Boil sugar, milk, marshmallows, butter and salt together five minutes (do not start timing till the surface bubbles all over). Add cherry chips and vanilla, and stir till chips are melted. Pour into a buttered 9 x 13 inch pan. Melt chocolate chips and add peanut butter and peanuts. Mix well and top cherry mixture with the chocolate mixture.( Cherry mixture will have started to set up but will be soft in the middle so spoon it over carefully). Let set until firm, and cut into small squares.

Bon appetite!

Entry for December 17, 2006 - Peppermint Crunch...

Earlier this month Teddy asked us all to write a blog on Christmas memories and the month has been passing so quickly. Looking at my last entry it has been days. I want to blame it on the holiday and all it's trappings, and then I look around and realize the tree is still not up, presents still need to be bought and wrapped, and the cookies....all the cookies and candies yet to make. Procrastination during the holiday season is not a good thing.

I tried to think of what I would blog on for my Christmas memories blog for Teddy. I could write about the country school programs at Christmas time, the lines upon lines we had to learn for our parts. The tiny basement auditorium crammed with everyone's parents and relatives. The walking across that old wooden stage with a roll up curtain, made of some kind of cloth that had advertisements painted on it. How I would sit there and read them, between the curtain rise and fall..

I could blog on Christmas caroling, visiting the elderly and singing in the frosty air. Shaking those flashlights when the batteries were giving up before the last verse was sung. Of the old German man who lived next door to me, who always sang along with us and handed us out candy as we sang Silent Night to him.

I thought about blogging on the big sledding parties we had as children. In the small town I grew up, sawhorses would block off one of the main streets that was on a hill. Adult and child showed up alike to slide down the hill on their sleds with red runners. Flashing caution lights put up after dark to continue the sledding, and later big mugs of steaming hot cocoa to warm our little bodies up.

I realized that a lot of you may have similiar memories on caroling, reciting lines for Christmas plays, and sliding down your own big hill. What to write about?...

I thought about Teddy's blog on his train set and new six shooters. I can still envision him galloping about, shooting at imaginary bad guys, and his little sister. I thought about Cyn's blog on her new bicycle, such a touching blog and one of the best Christmas stories I have read so far this year. I tried thinking on just what could I recall from Christmases past, that stood out from others. What toy or object had I begged Santa for, and I came to the realization, that I never really had one toy that I yearned for under the Christmas tree.

I don't ever remember asking Santa for anything specific. But somehow "Santa" always knew what would tickle the fancy of this blogger. One year there was a camera, one year a boom box, the toy selections were always unexpected....a surprise. I don't remember being disappointed as a kid. Toys were only ever bought for birthdays and Christmas. Those toys were played with hard, and with all the enthusiasm possible. Some years, were not as abundant as others, but the surprise factor was always there.

Hmmm, so much for blogging on a favorite cherished asked for toy....

There was one Christmas though.... we were older, I was almost 10, my older brother 12, and my youngest brother 9. Our delusions about Santa were long gone. Very early in the morning of that Christmas day, I was awake, and lieing in bed. It was still dark outside and the house was so quiet. I heard a door open from my parents bedroom. I heard the rustle of .a brown paper sack....and then....a "thud"....

Mom....um, er...I mean "Santa" had dropped something in the hallway. There was a pause, evidently to pick up the dropped item, another few steps...and another...."thud...thud". The rustling of that paperbag, and yet another..."thud". Either the bag had a rip in it, or "Santa" was still half asleep and unable to see in the dark.

I knew where "Santa" was going....she was going to fill our stockings. We always opened presents on Christmas eve, and had our stockings to open on Christmas morning. Our stockings always held a large juicy orange, shelled peanuts in the toe of the stocking, small gifts, sometimes money, and always candy....peppermint candy canes.

There was another thud, Santa wasn't being so quiet now. There was mumblings. More steps, more things dropped and then......a very loud exasperated whisper...."Oh Cornfeathers!".....

I heard the laughter in my dad's voice as he ask quietly down the hall from the bedroom...."drop someting Santa?".... my brothers were awake now, giggling and snickering. I tried to stifle my own. I could hear my mom start to giggle as she finally made it down that darkened hallway to fill our stockings. She no longer made any effort to be quiet.

We waited a few more mintues before stirring, mom had gone back to bed, still giggling.

We sat around that Christmas morning with our stockings. There was the big orange, the nuts, the small gifts,... and the terribly crushed peppermint candycanes.

I know of the story behind the candycane, about the shape of it being a shepherd's hook, the meaning of the red and white coloring...

But when someone mentions candycanes, .......crushed ones from Santa, always come to my mind.

Entry for December 06, 2006 - T'was a Blog Before Christmas...

T'was a blog before Christmas, and all across the internet,

Blogs were being posted,  and more comments to write yet.

A stocking was gone, taken by a pink thief,

Vero's hope  that cold toes, would soon find relief.



Beautiful poems, composed and written by Farrell,

Promises by Judy, of visits to Cracker Barrell.

Teddy bears crafted and sewn by a nice guy,

Buffy's new home, many things yet to buy.



Fun graphics, a coloring challenge, given by Shandie,

Adament refusal from Sue, of anything made of candy.

Gloggy and Wukky, continuing a feud,

A splog by Spotty of  sex and of lewd.



The moon of a Possum, posted from down under,

Mahvin gone missing, we all start to wonder.

Snowballs being tossed, and posted so quick,

It must be that Misty, up to old trick.



Just when I think I have surely seen it all,

Jim's head in a snowbank,... abnormally large nostril.

Recipes and cooking of Mac's a big passion,

More pics and modeling of Angie's new fashion.



On Theresa! On Lara! On Hill Billy and Zim!

On Lor! On Lela! Blog on,...on  a whim.

On rednecks and roadkill, whatever you think,

On Bubbas and JD's, a little flirt and a wink.



Fran, and Judy, and Bonnie, new bloggers are posting,

Your time is soon coming, expect a good roasting.

Smiles and giggles and pictures by Sue,

Cutting and pasting without any glue.



A blog on elves, imps, a little Pixie,

Laughing My Arse Off, with a Southern Dixie.

Sombre and provoking blogs by Silverfox,

Wish hugs could be sent thru this little box.



Quiet bloggers Sprk, Maria, and Gingamgal,

My newest blog friend, Sue's hubby - Michael.

More bloggers showing, on my friend's list,

Too quiet, no blogs, oh what they miss!



My eyes how they twinkle, the grins are contagious,

Your stories and antics, they can be outrageous.

The giggles they start, in a small rumble,

How can anyone even post, a tiny grumble?



My fingertips poised above keyboard, mid-air...

A serious comment by me, often quite rare.

A stifled giggle, laugh, or another big snort,

Compounded daily, by a similiar cohort.



Sometimes blogging and writing seems like hard work,

Hopefully most times, I don't seem like a jerk.

Thinking and typing,..typos I do make,

Backspacing, rereading, time it does take.



Sitting and reading in my computer chair,

Of friends and blogs, and of people,  I do care.

Holiday wishes  of Peace and good cheer,

Oft times, I am ...a big pain, in the rear!