Of course he poops Peppermints!
If it is, let this one be seen as a genuine historical artifact. (Has anyone living today even heard of Dennis Day?) Because I had Irish grandparents, Day was well known in my family. An Irish Tenor with a brogue claiming Christmas for the Irish? Those grandparents loved the damn thing. (Listen for the “Santy” instead of “Santa”. My father was the only person I ever heard say it that way; probably came from his own childhood.
But it’s a beginning. Have to be ready for the 14th, when Logan comes to help finish the decorations and make some cookies (a lame effort but always fun). He’s eight this year so has now done this with me for over half his life.
Here’s something I could be thankful for: the toxic new retail trend that has stores opening on Thanksgiving Day (some as early as 6am) to attract more shoppers turns out to be . . . a bust!
Wouldn’t it be swell?
My very best wishes to all blogfriends for a peaceful and prosperous 2013.
An earlier post here made note of Festivus. Well, surprise – to a few readers that was a mystery. Festivus?? they asked. This explains all. (h/t friend Ed for the video)
I was quite distressed last year over a tree that turned out to be the wrong size. I was so unhappy I accorded far too much importance to that. I’m now a bit embarrassed by my public angst.
But this year? A fine tree. Right size, right shape and so fresh that even a week after bringing it into the house there are no needles on the floor. Good, good and good.
Want to see it? No matter, you’re going to see it. History must be served. Here’s the tree buck nekkid and then almost fully dressed.
It’s here at last.
An unfortunate outcome. Will the neighbors take him aside for a little talk?
I just drove past a local Church where a sign announced Good Friday services. And suddenly, memories of the Good Fridays of my childhood came pouring in. My siblings and I went to a Catholic school and like all good little Catholics, spent three hours of Good Friday, from noon to 3pm (Catholics know exactly what time of day Jesus died. Did you know that?), in Church doing various Church things, but mostly sitting still.
Sitting still is hard enough for kids, harder still for us who had given up chocolate for Lent (the ultimate sacrifice in a family for whom the sweet gooey stuff was nearly a sacrament itself) because our minds were entirely focused on the approaching release from our Lenten vows.
We thought only of chocolate, of eating it, of Easter baskets and chocolate bunnies with those bunny ears. (We knew they had already been purchased – and hidden – by our mother. We knew they were somewhere in the house. We knew because we could smell them.)
Whatever that may be . . . but I think that I may now say that for me the holidays are good and truly over. Let the week begin.
Happy New Year and Elvis bless us, everyone.
Almost forgot – today feels more like the last day of a seven day weekend than the start of a normal one.
This one is for Stewart, one of the snugglies who was here for Christmas. He’s four years old, has red hair and big doe eyes, and this is his favorite song. We sang it Wednesday night – we sang it for quite a while, over and over. And over.
Even though The Weavers recorded it earlier (in the 50’s), this 60’s version from The Tokens was the one playing whenever we took to the dance floor.
To friends and readers – a joyful season.
And very very cute. This is a pure delight. Thanks to friend Jane for the link.
Today is the Winter Solstice, so let us have a moment of solidarity with our early brethren across the history of humankind. In pre-history, this day was full of mystery and magic, a reminder of the unknown. There was fear in that, so they banished the darkness with light – beginning a tradition of a season of celebration and light, one we observe still.
The classic – on SNL: he did this every year for many years. Sadly, this one isn’t the best version, but hey, can’t let the season go by without it.
The too-big Christmas tree is no longer too big and sits in its traditional spot in my living room. It is yet buck naked but looks great (and even smells wonderful!). So my holidays may now commence thanks to good neighbor Jim, partner of good neighbor Barb. He’s my Christmas tree go-to guy. I always buy the thing and haul it home, but until Jim comes over to help make sure it goes into the stand straight, it sits outside. This year he brought the cordless saw and promptly took it down a size and made it perfect. Now, once once I get the lights on (nobody’s favorite job) I can enjoy the sweet part – unboxing the ornaments, some so old they’re from my grandmother’s trees (albeit fewer each year) – and finding the perfect spot for each.
That Christmas tree? The one in a pail of water out in the carport? That one? Intact, looks lovely, has perky, sweet smelling pine needles. And it would be perfect if . . . . now I’ve bought trees for that spot for 17 years and I know the right size. I can pick out the right tree four rows in under the tent – from the street. That’s how well I know the right size to buy and lug home.
I bought the wrong size. Yesterday’s curse was strong.
The holidays have started to intrude on my prefered pace of life, which is slow. Very, very slow. There’s likely to be light blogging till I put my foot down or have a burst of energy.
Meanwhile, you’ve heard this:
ONE of the great tropes of Republican criticism of Barack Obama is that the president goes around the world apologizing for America’s past misdeeds. “Have we ever had a president,” Mitt Romney asked in a foreign policy speech this summer, “who was so eager to address the world with an apology on his lips and doubt in his heart?”
But did you know this?
In a major speech in Cairo in 2005, Condoleezza Rice, then Mr. Bush’s secretary of state, said that “for 60 years, my country, the United States, pursued stability at the expense of democracy in this region here in the Middle East — and we achieved neither.” What was she doing if not apologizing on behalf of the United States — and vowing to put an end to a pattern of misguided policy?
Maybe it’s a black thing.
Posted in 2012 Elections, Egypt, George Bush, Government, History, Holidays, Middle East, Obama, partisanship, Politics
Tagged blogging, Christmas trees, foreign policy, George Bush, Holidays, Obama, Politics
Today has not been a good day. I have not liked today at all.
Only one thing went as it was supposed to – I managed to arrive home with a Christmas tree.
The tree however is probably tainted by virtue of being ‘of today’ . . . so I won’t be surprised in the morning when I find it looks like this.
The food was very fine, the company was even better – and I saw Christmas lights all the way home tonight. Dear elvis, let’s slow down please.
As for the poor benighted souls who now consider it their patriotic duty to trample each other at the malls and big box stores tomorrow – I wish they’d consider a leisurely breakfast instead.
Meanwhile, I actually found myself thinking about some Christmas wreaths, and how to put lights on one of them, so it can hang on my new carport gate. Yikes. I haz met the enemy and it is me.
(Attention liberals: Don’t y’all forget to oil up your weapons – it’s nearly time for us to pick up those arms and go once again into the breach in our never ending War on Christmas!)