Merry Christmas

I didn't get Christmas cards done this year.  They kind of went by the wayside in the midst of all the work, family and photography craziness I've had going on.  I did manage a little verse that I jotted onto plain paper and mailed to our friends and family.  It was the best I could do.  I will share it with you my internet friends because you all brighten my life and make it richer.  Some of you I feel as if I've known for years, and I would mail this to all of you if I knew your real names and addresses.  

I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas.  May you find joy in this season and many blessings in the new year.  Now, get off the internet and go do some Christmas!

O Christmas Card, O Christmas Card

We meant to make a Christmas card, so pretty and sublime

but we couldn't get our act together and now we're out of time.

We even took a family photo, with plans to share with you

but frankly, it was crappy, and simply wouldn't do.

Our hair was kind of messy, our smiles were quite a wreck,

When Olan sent it to us, we said, "Mercy, what the heck?!"

We scrapped that plan and bought some cards, with plans to add a note

a letter telling about our lives, our plans, our year, our hopes!

But things got kind of crazy, we didn't get it done

And Christmas is a week away, this card thing isn't fun.

"Oh, snap!" we said. "What should we do? How shall we cover our butts?"

We decided to whip up a poem, something cheery without any smut.

Hang onto your seats, this is gonna be fast, we've got more shopping to do,

Christmas is kicking our fannies this year, did it come this fast for you?

The year's been good but kind of wild, it kept us on our toes,

It had some highs, some big adventures and even a couple of woes.

We laughed, we cried, we chased our tails, we even traveled the world,

we rate it an eight on a scale of ten, with two thumbs up and a swirl.

We gazed at Big Ben, saw the Eiffel Tower, and flew to the Big Apple in May,

we bought fake purses in China Town, even learned to pronounce si'l vous plait.

T.A. graduated high school, her honors were high, she made her parents' hearts swell,

She's studying nutrition to be a dietician, let's hope she finds work that pays well.

'Cause her parents are broke from purchasing books, and buying her new shirts and pants

not to mention the bucks that we blew in August when we took our graduate to France.

We lost Mama J., two uncles died too, we had to put the cat down,

we shed lots of tears for the ones that we lost and had our fair share of frowns.

But we patched up our hearts, said a few prayers and dusted off our blues

'cause life goes on, work's never done, and sometimes this place is a zoo.

Mom's taking pictures, weddings and such, it gives her some traveling dough

And Dad stays busying looking after his pop, 'cause he needs lots of care don't ya' know.

The year ahead will probably be crazy, we hope it's a good one for you,

with blessings and laughter and lots of good cheer, maybe a surprise or two.

We wish we had something besides this plain paper, with nary a pretty design

but we didn't have time to get to the store, so plain will just have to do this time.

May God bless you and keep you in the palm of his Hand, and calm all your worries and fears

Merry Christmas to you, Happy New Year too. Maybe our card will be better next year.

Love,

The Hula-gen's

Hallmark, you're killin' me!

I have only two emotions during the Christmas season, blissfully happy and sad to the point of tears. There's no in between, and I can jump from one to the other in a heartbeat. I'd like to blame it on my mixed up hormones, but I've been this way for several years. The death of my nephew probably has a little to do with it because Christmas just isn't the same after you bury a child. However, I think I just have to chalk it up to me being me. As my grandma used to say, I'm just tender hearted. I wear my emotions on my sleeve, and I just can't help it. Those of you familiar with the Meyer's Briggs Personality Test will find it no surprise that I'm an ENFP. For those of you not familiar with that test, just know that it means I'm off the charts in the "emotional" part of my personality. Gold star, A+ with a smiley face on my paper off the charts. I'm an empathizer, a sympathizer and a sap. I'll laugh with you, cry with you and take on whatever emotion you're likely to be feeling at any time. Which means I can be moved to loud laughter, tears or jeers without much effort. And sometimes it drives my family crazy, although they've gotten somewhat used to me crying at the drop of the hat. They just shake their heads when I cry in church or at the movies or while watching a touching television commercial. Sister mercy, that commercial that's running right now that features the soldier in some far off country reading the Christmas book his child has recorded is killin' me! Killin' me. And I don't dare linger over the Hallmark Channel. Stopping on that channel is just asking for trouble. In fact, when there's a Hallmark Hall of Fame special on CBS, Hubby just groans because he knows I'm going to want to watch it, and I'm going to cry before it ends. I have to keep tissues in the house just in case there's a Steel Magnolias marathon on TBS. As Truvey says, laughter through tears is one of my favorite emotions. And that pretty well sums up the holidays for me.


I find plenty of joy during December. There are get togethers with loved ones, parties with friends, and I love the children's programs. I ran the audio/video booth at church the other night during the preschool program, and it was a doozy. I haven't laughed that much in weeks. They were just cute, cute, cute. But at the same time all of this is going on, I can't help but see the stark differences between the haves and the have not's as daddy calls it. Christmas is an economic divider. No doubt about it. While some are blowing money to the four winds on lots and lots of presents, there are so many people who just don't have money to buy necessities. Some of them can't afford their electricity or their medicine.

There are children whose Christmas dreams will be disappointments. A local gentleman who portrays Santa at local events came to our Stuff the Truck event. He's a wonderful fellow who has a radio call-in show for children who want to talk to Santa. He gets calls from all over the world each Saturday, and recently he asked a young caller what he wanted for Christmas. The little boy asked why it would matter because he didn't get anything last year. Not one single present. It broke my heart to hear that. It broke Santa's, too.

I've seen people in recent weeks who literally had no food on their shelves at home and had no idea how they were going to feed their children. While I'm sitting around dreaming about how I can wrangle a trip to Italy, there are those who don't have enough to eat. And there are those who are alone. A FaceBook post by a friend this week made me think about the number of people I know who lost parents or loved ones this year. Just this morning, I talked at length with a friend who lost her mother. It was about the fifth time this Christmas season that I shed a tear or two. I haven't even begun to think about the emotions that will be rolling through my soul on Christmas Day when Mama J.'s not around. Christmas was a very big deal to her, and Sunday will definitely be different for us than it has in the past as we feel the family circle on Hubby's side getting smaller and smaller each year.

And I'm not really sure where I'm going with all of this other than to say I hope you have noticed, too. You all seem like good folks, so I imagine you have. I hope in the midst of all the hustle and chores and shopping madness, you've noticed the folks among us who are in pain this season. The people who are spending their first Christmas without a loved one or dealing with the dysfunction in their families. When I went to Al-Anon, I learned very quickly that Christmas is a combustible time for many families. There are many people out there, some that are likely your friends, who are just trying to get through the 25th. I can't help but think of that line in that old Emerson, Lake and Palmer song, Father Christmas, "They sold me a dream of Christmas". Movies, television and stores sell us the idea that the holidays are joyous for everyone and that our families, homes and gifts should all be perfect. We can never measure up to that image of the season, and frankly, I've quit trying. I love Christmas folks, but I feel your pain.

I'm lucky, I have a wonderful family, and I find true joy in family and church at Christmas. When we're together this weekend, we'll get to talking about old times, and my peeps will probably make me laugh. Laugh until I cry.

A White Christms

For maybe the third or fourth time in my life we had a white Christmas around these parts. It's something that happens every ten or fifteen years here. And while I am normally not fond of ANY kind of winter weather, I have to grudgingly admit it was beautiful. It didn't hurt that we spent the morning in the somewhat isolated countryside at my brother in law's house.

Merry Christmas

My wish for you this Christmas season is that you are not alone, that you are with someone you love and that you are loved. And I hope you have serenity, joy and hope in the new year. Merry Christmas!

Hula's Holiday Favorites-"Elf Yourself"

Ooh, who doesn't love to Elf Yourself? I had almost forgotten about this little Office Max marketing fun until Mrs. Scrubbs sent me one of her, Super Cop and Special Delivery yesterday. Ho, ho, ho, can the Hula-gen's breakdance or what?

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/ltdYXwMJptK4O4XJn77x

Where in the world has Hula been the past week?

Well, Hula has been planning, organizing and standing in below freezing weather for two days hawking green beans. And corn. And fruit cocktail. I’ve been leading the charge on a food drive, and Great Gertie, I hope the next time I get the wild idea to do an outdoor fundraiser it’s in warmer weather. Actually, it was great fun, even if I did have to scrape the frost out from under my toenails two nights in a row. It’s been a frenzied, overwhelming week but very rewarding. I have to admit I could use a little relaxation though.

The company I work for hosts a community lighting display each Christmas season, and we collect canned goods and food each night of the display at the local park. We usually generate about 30,000 pounds of food and between $25,000 and $30,000 dollars for local food pantries each Christmas. A couple of years ago we added a School Challenge (more on that next week) that significantly boosted our donations, and this year I wanted to add a component that would involve local businesses. Every idea I came up with prior to Thanksgiving just wasn’t feasible because of logistical issues. In the end, we parked a semi at the local hospitals, which are two of this community’s largest employers, and for two days urged hospital employees and the public to “Stuff the Truck” with canned goods and cash. It was kind of a last minute idea since Hula’s brain was a little slow to churn this season, but it all came together nicely, thanks to the support of a lot of good folks, and in the end our truck was nearly full with close to 10,000 pounds of goodies for the food pantries.

Our temperatures have been below freezing the past few days, so standing in the cold at 5:45am for live radio and TV interviews and throughout the day and into the evening was not so comfortable. Now, I grew up in the country where there’s no shame in a good pair of coveralls, so I updated my coverall situation before the drive started Wednesday when I realized how cold it was going to be. The only problem was that the adult sizes were so over sized I had to buy an extra large in the boys department. They fit fine, except I’m apparently four inches taller than the average prepubescent boy, so I wore high water britches for two days. They kept me from freezing though. I figure I’ll sew some kind of funky material onto the bottom of them now and make a real fashion statement when I’m stomping around in the woods taking nature photos this winter.

Every part of me exposed to the elements is chapped, and I was so busy this week I missed a few meals, unless of course you count Tropical Skittles from the hospital vending machine as a meal, but that ended up being a very good thing. Very good because it prompted me to think yesterday in the middle of a chilly moment before sunrise, about what it’s really like to be cold and homeless without a coat, and hungry with little or no food. Hula is a very lucky gal. I have a warm home, plenty to eat and a great job. I also have about four coats in my closet. Standing in the cold for a couple of long days is nothing compared to what some folks deal with every day. It really wasn’t much of a sacrifice for me to stand outside hawking canned goods for two days. In fact, I was warm with Christmas spirit when I watched my coworkers scurry around with forklifts last night unloading pallet after pallet of food in the company warehouse. The reason behind the season is alive and well in my heart this week folks, and now I’m off for a little rest before I start gathering canned goods from kids next week.

Right after I fling a little chili at the Project Graduation fundraiser at Teen Angel’s school tonight. Ha! The fun never ends around here.

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

The Christmas shopping season always sends me into the family photo albums for a glance back at childhood holidays. Every time I look at this photo of Hubby with his Red Ryder BB Gun, I feel compelled to shout out loud, "Nutta-finga!", "Frag-ee-lay" and "Oh, fudge!"

And aren't those some stylish pajamas he's sporting there?

Christmas Peek-A-Boo

I swear, that boy could eat a live toad and we would think it's cute.

Some Things Never Change

Like Our Wish For You to Have A Merry Christmas.

Psst-It's a holiday. What are you doing piddling around on the internet?!

The Gift

I am at peace this Christmas. I was not last year. I couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over last year. It was just a painful, difficult season wrought with family turmoil and the pain and anger that accompanied the addictions and depression in some folks close to us. There was nothing joyous about the holidays. This year is different. Even with Sissy’s death staring over our shoulders, it’s better. Much better. This year I have peace in my life and in my heart. It is the greatest gift I could have received, and I didn’t expect to get it. Sometimes the best gifts are surprises.

Back in October, I started dreading Christmas. This would be our first Christmas since Sissy’s suicide, and I just wasn’t looking forward to rehashing the memories of Christmases past. Before Sissy’s son, Chance, and husband, David, died, she loved Christmas. We had many wonder holiday mornings together, opening presents and sharing breakfast. Even in the last couple of years of her life when her depression was at its worst, she still liked to decorate for Christmas.

As we were packing up her stuff and cleaning up her house this summer we found box after box of Christmas decorations. I couldn’t stand to look at most of it and neither could anyone else, so I saved some ornaments and gave the rest to a niece. Near the end of our cleanup, we stumbled upon a box of ornaments we hadn’t seen before. After examining the ones on top, we realized they were ornaments from the years that Sissy, David and Chance were all alive. We had never seen them, so I guess she had boxed them up and saved them sometime after Chance died. I didn’t have the emotional strength to look through the entire box, so we put the lid on it and saved it. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I didn’t want to throw it away.

Thanksgiving evening I decided to drag out the Christmas tree and decorate it. Hubby set up the big tree and started hauling down boxes from the attic. By accident, he brought down Sissy’s box first, mistaking it for our stuff. I opened it up, and immediately realized the mistake. It caught me off guard, but I was drawn to a Christmas stocking on top. It was Chance’s first stocking. A lump crept up into my throat. It was like driving by a car accident. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help myself. I pushed the lump back down and reached for another tissue wrapped ornament. Teen Angel sat down beside me and started pilfering through the items, too. Within minutes we were smiling. Each carefully wrapped package held one beautiful surprise after another. Chance’s first stocking.
His first ornaments.
Pictures from his toddler years.
His little Santa’s Helper hat.
Even his Santa Hat.
There were ornaments he made in school and cub scouts.
And several of his Mickey Mouse ornaments. He loved Mickey.

There was the ornament from the first year of Sissy and David’s marriage and another one that held a picture of all three of them. There was no pain in that box. Just beautiful memories. Memories that would have been too painful to wade through when we stumbled upon the box back in the summer but memories that were sweet after we’d had some time to heal. I asked Hubby to bring down a second tree, a smaller prelighted tree. We set it up in the corner of the living room, covered it with Sissy’s old ornaments and topped it with Chance’s Santa Hat. Every night it twinkles at us as we watch TV and read, while the big tree with all of our other stuff stands guard in the foyer. It’s a reminder of Sissy, David and Chance and all of those great Christmases we used to have together a long time ago.

While discussing it at an Al-Anon meeting recently I realized that the tree helped me to reclaim those memories and stop dwelling on old hurts. Our relationship with Sissy was so much more than the last two years. It was more good than bad. That gives me peace this holiday season and allows me to open up my heart to Christmas this year.

That box of old ornaments was a gift. A gift I didn’t expect to get. But sometimes the best gifts are surprises.

And Hula Wept

I don't blog about my job because frankly, it can get you fired. Besides, work is work. I absolutely love my job, but I like to set it aside when I head home and piddle with things I enjoy, like blogging. But sometimes my personal life and professional life muddle together, and I have the opportunity to do something extracurricular that falls under the marketing umbrella of my job but fulfills me in a very personal way. THAT is where this post lands.

As a part of my job, I oversee the community lighting display our company holds during the Christmas season each year. It's a lot of work but a very cool thing to be a part of. We have hundreds of volunteers who work the display each night, collecting donations of food and money for area charities. It generates several tons of food and sustains some of those charities for the first quarter of the new year.

Last year, I wanted to try something new to boost food donations. We put out a challenge to area schools to collect canned goods, and the school that collected the most pounds of food per student won $1000 to spend any way they wanted at their school. I didn't know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised. Ten schools accepted the challenge and generated more than 15,000 pounds of food.

It's no secret I had trouble finding the Christmas spirit last year, given the troubles we were having with Sissy, and the distance those troubles put between us and Mama J. and Papa T.. I really just wanted Christmas to pass me by, but the day we picked up the canned goods, I found my Christmas spirit. It was such a wonderful surprise at each school to pull up to the doors and find a pile of food waiting for us. By the time we reached the third school I was in tears. That school had food piled in the hallways and spilling out of their homerooms. I was so overcome with emotion I had to dash into the bathroom to get myself together. It truly made my Christmas, and it was a reminder of just how good things can be.

This year ten schools joined the competition again. For two weeks they collected food, and I suspected we would would have a good response because some of the schools called for extra food bins. I was eager to pick up their stuff yesterday, and I was not disappointed when we started rounding up the loads. We took two moving trucks with us and pallet jacks and set out all over the county making one stop after another. And at each stop we were rewarded with food.
And more food.
Lots and lots of food.
Spilling out of the bins and into the floor.
At one school we picked up almost 6000 pounds. Another had 5400 pounds. At each school it was like opening up a big Christmas present. I made it to the next to last stop before I welled up with tears, which was pretty good I thought, given my propensity for wearing my emotions on my face. I managed to get myself together pretty quick, and nobody had to offer my a hankie.

These pictures don't show the faces of the students and staff because I'm walking that fine line between work and personal stuff, but believe me when I tell you I have lots of photos of the little smiling faces of kindergartners pleased with themselves, second graders waving shyly to me and the burly linemen helping me to load the goods and teachers bubbling with joy over their students' big hearts. Most moving of all were the children at one school who donated just a few hundred pounds. About 99% of those students at that school receive free lunches. Many of them will receive food pantry proceeds this month, making their donations more generous than the others because they have the least to give. If I think about it very long, I'll cry again.

It was a wonderful day. I've spent the last 24 hours, awarding trophies and money and basking in the glow of 23,000 pounds of Christmas spirit sitting in our warehouse at work, just waiting to be sorted and delivered to needy families. It's going to be hard to top that come December 25th. Sometimes, I think I have the best job in the world. And a darn good personal life.

Family Fun Fact #291

When Hula was seven years old and SuperCop was about to turn two, the family dog had puppies. Thirteen puppies!! One was so small it was tragically squashed when there was no more room in the cardboard box in the basement where they were birthed. And then there were twelve puppies. Twelve Irish Setter puppies that Hula and SuperCop wanted to keep. Alas, they were sold to good families but forever memorialized in this Christmas photo from 1971, or as Hula likes to call it, the year of the Pretzel Pants. It was also the year Hula covered everything in large paper snowflakes.

*No animals were harmed in the making of this photo beside a cardboard fireplace.

Nothing Says Quality Blogging Like Bullet Points

-It just wouldn’t be Christmas if someone around here over the age of 60 wasn’t in the hospital in December. It’s become an annual thing around here, and 2009 did not disappoint us. We took Papa T. to the emergency room two nights ago and it turns out he has a bladder infection. If it has spread to his blood he will be in the hospital at least four more days. If not, he should be out by Sunday. He is NOT a happy camper. In fact, he’s downright surly. Hubby and Mama J. have spent the last two nights at the hospital with him, but Hubby says he’s coming home tonight and letting the nurses deal with Papa T. Ho, ho, ho.
-As we were sitting in the hospital cafeteria last night dining on the “holiday dinner” of tough $7 prime rib and Sam’s Club Red Velvet cake, I wondered if that’s how Ralphie felt in A Christmas Story eating Chinese food on Christmas Day. Fa, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra.
-I made it through the holiday meal with Hubby’s dysfunctional family Saturday without losing my Attitude of Gratitude bracelet, only to have to start all over on the 21 day thing Sunday. A certain sixteen-year-old pushed my buttons until I lost my temper and my gratitude for having a teenager. On a positive note, I made it seven whole days before I had to start over, which is way better than I thought I would do. Joy to the world!
-I have an even bigger holiday meal with Hubby’s dysfunctional family Saturday. Hubby won’t be able to go because someone will need to stay with Papa T., and Teen Angel has to work, so I will be on my own in that hot mess. It will be another opportunity to test my attitude. Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
-I tried a new four layer coconut cake recipe this week for a party we’re having tomorrow night. It’s one of those cakes that has to sit in a sealed container for three days before you eat it. It is all I can do not to break the seal on that thing and run my finger down the middle of it. It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
-The temperatures have dipped into the teens here, and I’m trying not to bellyache about it. It sucks way more to be in Iowa or Wisconsin right now, but gosh, I hate winter. The only good thing about winter, in my opinion, is that it forces snakes into hibernation. I’m Mister Icicle, I’m Mister Ten Below.
-I have bought one Christmas present so far. One stinkin’ gift and I have no idea when I’m going to be able to shop. To say I’m a little behind is like saying Tiger Woods is having a bad day. At least I see a way out of my mess. Tiger? Hmm, not so much. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire……

Ho Ho Ho

Roses are red, holly is too, Santa came to my house, did he comes to yours, too? Top gift goes to Teen Angel. This now makes three guitars. That's enough, I think. I hope she can pay her way through college with weekend gigs.

I asked all of my family to give me money and gift certificates so I can buy myself a nice camera, but I did get those pajamas from Target I dropped 9,000 hints about. They're just so..me.

And guess who got matching footie PJ's?

And guess who would rather be naked except for his diaper. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, too. Tell me your favorite gift, please.

Away in a Manger

In the United Methodist Church in this part of the country we have a tradition called March to the Manger. On the Sunday before Christmas we march to the front of the church, usually to the sounds of O Come All ye Faithful to lay a special offering in a manger. The gifts are often wrapped in Christmas paper and bows. Members of the congregation portray Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels and sometimes the wise men. The role of baby Jesus is traditionally given to the newest baby in the congregation with his parents serving as Mary and Joseph. Growing up, I always looked forward to the March to the Manger, laying my little wrapped package near the creche and glimpsing at the baby who was usually snoozing on his mama's lap. To this day, it still feels special to file to the front of the church, singing multiple verses of O come All ye Faithful and looking into the face of the baby chosen to portray the newborn Jesus.


This year was even more special because Special Delivery was picked to play Jesus at the church I grew up in. The March to the Manger was incorporated into the church's Christmas cantata, so Special D., Mrs. Scrubs and Super Cop had to sit still for a long time while the choir and the children sang numerous songs. Now I know I might be just a teensy biased, but I think he was the cutest little baby savior I've ever seen. See?
And he was so good. He slept through most of the program but started to come alive about forty minutes into the program. We saw his eyes pop open, his mouth form a big yawn and then his little arm stretch out long. I glanced at the program and saw that we still had two long songs to go. I hoped he wasn't hungry because he will certainly let you know if he's hungry. Apparently, he wasn't. However, he was gassy. Mrs. Scrubs says she thought he was pooping his pants during the last round of singing. He didn't, but let's just say that while we were greatly singing o'er the plains, he was repeating the sounding joy. The smell in the manger wasn't the sheep. His bright little eyes stayed glued to the bling on the three kings and the spotlight in the loft. He bounced on Mrs. Scrubs knee quietly until the program was over, as if he knew his special role. And just like that, his first starring role was over. His adoring fans rushed forward for a few pics and a chance to hold him before we had to go home. What a sweet moment in this Christmas season. I will however, have to have a talk with Super Cop about his choice of sandals.

Lost and Found

It's no secret I've had trouble finding the holiday spirit this year. If you've read any of my other December posts it's pretty obvious I've been a little short on ho, ho, ho. Frankly, I've been feeling overwhelmed at how fast Christmas is approaching. Oh, I didn't give up. I kept plugging away because I knew that spirit was down in me somewhere. It was just a little lost, a little misplaced. I was searching for it to no avail, apparently, in all the wrong places.

I oversee a community holiday lighting display and food drive. Knowing that the economy might hamper donations this year, I asked area schools to hold canned food drives at their schools and offered a prize for the winning school in order to supplement our usual collection. Each school was given a large industrial grade bin to hold their goods. When full of canned food a bin can hold between 1000 and 1400 pounds. The contest ended this week, and we picked up food at three of the ten schools yesterday. We were thrilled with the amount we collected. Armed with a moving van, a pallet jack and four strong men I headed out early this morning for pick ups at the rest of the schools. I'll admit I was pretty tired before I started the day and had no idea what to expect. I knew it would be a long day, but I was eager to see what was waiting for us. The first four stops went pretty fast, and the stack of food grew bigger at each stop. At each school we found a full bin and lots of smiling children. By 10am I had lost my weariness and was feeling really upbeat.

I was anxious to get to the fifth stop because I had an inkling they had done very well. They had already filled their bin once last week and seemed really inspired. I had no idea just how inspired. When we arrived they had two more full bins and sacks and sacks of food stacked around the bins. Outside each classroom was more food. We had to take two grocery carts around the building to pick up the food at the classrooms. We were at the school for about an hour, packing, loading and trying to figure out how to get it all out of the building. We also had to take the bar out of the double doors in order to pull out the pallets of food. As I stood there in amazement I suddenly felt overwhelmed again. This time I was overwhelmed in a good way. My heart just melted at the smiles on the faces of dozens of children who didn't even know what prize they were competing for. They were simply excited about helping other people. Y'all know what a crybaby I can be. It was all I could do not to fall apart. I finally stepped outside "to take a phone call" and get myself together. Before we left the building I slipped in the restroom "for a pit stop" aka blowing my nose and wiping my eyes. I stood against the sink, looked into the mirror and smiled. It took me until December 19th, only six days before Christmas before I found that spirit. But I did. Finally. With the help of 391 elementary school children who have no idea how much they gave today. Oh, they know how much food they gave to the hungry. They just don't know how much they gave to this starving soul. Bring on Christmas my friends, I'm finally ready.

Jingle All The Way Home

Why I love a 70% off sale....original price, $369. Take home price, $114. Merry Christmas to me! Suddenly, I have a little more ho, ho, ho in my holiday attitude. It makes the best frozen drinks evah, be it a margarita or a good old cherry slushie, and I've been eyeballin' this puppy ever since the Going Out of Business Sale started at Linens 'N Things about six weeks ago. I would have waited a little longer, because I can be as tight as the bark on a tree when it comes to frivolous toys, but this was the last one, and they were getting ready to ship it somewhere else. Jingle bells, jingle bells.........everybody sing along.

Holiday Photo #3

Oh, how this photo makes me smile. That little fuzzy headed fella' in the lower right corner is my baby brother, Handy Man when he was about two years old. That would make this around 1976, the year of the bicentennial. The year our grade school marching band instructor made us wear knickers and tri-corner hats, but that's another post for another time. This picture was taken at a church function, and that raggedy looking Santa had Handy Man scared. Some children find Santa, clowns and all types of mascot costumes scary. I was never one of those children, but I'll admit, this guy was a little unnerving. I think it was the scraggly beard.

Everyone has his own odd Santa moment. Mine came the last year Teen Angel sat on Santa's lap at the mall. When she got settled onto his leg, he patted his other leg and suggestively offered me the opportunity to sit down, too. Ugh. I sharply said no, we quickly snapped a picture and got out of there.

So, here's what I want to know today dear readers. I want to hear your Santa story. What incident did you have with the jolly one that left you smiling, crying or puzzling your puzzler as the Grinch would say?

Ho, Ho, Ho!

Yesterday I got this call from Madd Maxx down in Louisiana who had been playing catch up on my blog and saw the last string of posts. He was all, "Giiiirl, what is YOUR problem? What's with all that dry skin, bad sinuses bah humbug waaa, waaa, waaa business? You need to put some ho, ho, ho in your mo jo and get down with Christmas." And I was all, "I KNOW I have a bad attitude, I know. I'm workin' on it. I got online and bought three presents and I put up the tree dammit." He declared his phone call a holiday intervention and cheered me up with some conversation about how he was supposed to get snow last night, and everybody in Cajun country was going nuts because they never get snow. I promised to straighten out my attitude and jingle my bells, and he promised not to hit me with a yule log. I jumped in the car for the commute home, turned on the radio and lo and behold a Christmas song was playing. It was a sign from God, I tell ya'. It was Alvin and the Chipmunks, so I'm not sure what the the Big Guy was trying to tell me, but I think it had something to do with smiles. That, or he was reminding me for the 20th time to make that dental appointment. Anyhooo, in an effort to show my holiday spirit, I'm posting a few old Christmas pictures. After all, what's funnier than old family photos taken during holidays past with those flash bulbs that burned your retinas? Exactly. Today's selection? 1972-The Year of The Dog. Make that dogs. 13 to be exact. That is me and Super Cop under the tree. He is about three in this picture. Look at those cute little cheeks. I'm eight, and we were in the process of selling our Irish Setter puppies. She had thirteen puppies that winter in a refrigerator box in our basement. Twelve survived. The smallest was crushed by the rest of them. It was my first lesson in survival of the fittest. I wanted to keep at least one of the puppies, but mama said no. We had already sold a couple of them by the time we got the grand idea to load them into a laundry basket and take a picture. It's not really the dogs that make me smile in this picture. Take note of the other things in this picture. 1. My pretzel pants. I thought these were the coolest pants ever. That and the orange paisley dress I wore in kindergarten were probably the two earliest signs of the twisted sense of fashion that would follow me into adulthood. Good thing I became an adult in the 80's. Mama made these pants and fortunately, she managed to avoid the baggy crotch issue she had at the time with the pants she made for Super Cop.

2. The Christmas tree. Is that not the sorriest tree you've ever seen? That was in the early days of artificial trees when they didn't look anything like a real tree. It appears that we asked to decorate the tree, and mama said "Ah, what the heck, knock yourself out". And we made a few homemade snowflakes, got bored with the whole mess, and quit early. Or another likely scenario is that I put myself in charge of the whole thing and bossed Super Cop around until he got mad and quit.

3. The container for the puppies. Nothing says Christmas like a worn out laundry basket. We made absolutely no effort at class with that one did we?

4. And my all time favorite Christmas decoration (next to Aunt June's aluminum tree with the rotating colored light wheel)...ta da! The cardboard fireplace. I loved that thing and thought it was the neatest thing ever. Funny thing, though. I have asked dozens of people my age over the years if they had a cardboard Christmas fireplace, and they all looked at me like I was crazy.

So to jump start my ho ho ho and in the spirit of all things merry and bright, I want you to tell me dear readers about the tackiest decoration of childhood holidays. Let's hear about your cardboard fireplaces or your pink flocked trees. Share, make me smile and help me dodge that yule log.

Stop!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, holy mother of Elmo this week has been out of control crazy work has been insane and involved spearheading numerous projects including a food drive a pep rally at an elementary school presentations at another school building a float for the Christmas parade oh my the first Christmas party of the season how could I possibly eat so much no time to exercise I have to walk in the parade tonight Teen Angel's choir program is tomorrow after church there's another party Monday night and I haven't even started my Christmas shopping glad most everyone wants gift certificates crap I need to get those cards mailed and I still don't have a tree up will anyone notice if we don't have a tree oh yes Teen Angel will mount an insurgence if we don't put up a tree blog what's a blog Calgon take me away well the band fruit is here and gee whiz aren't the holidays fun somebody remind me what we're celebrating this season oh yeah the Kind of Peace. Sigh.