Christmas and traditions. Can't have one without the other, right? Or can you? What are your traditions or are you among the mortals who "gasp" don't have any? Let's discuss......
It's okay. THE big holiday is over. We've made it through another one. Now we can sit back and be honest about it. I'll start...(deep breath)...
Word's Christmas traditions are boring. There's no carroling by the fire. There's no horse drawn sled ride through the snowy winterscape. There's no fabulously unique, original, write home to grandma about, tradition of grandeur at our house. There's just us, a tree with a hodge podge of ornaments and mismatched lights, a wreath for the door, and about a thousand or so Christmas Cookies (give or take).
I remember the first Christmas my husband and I shared as a married couple. I desperately wanted to establish something unique and special that could be passed down for years to come by our yet unborn children. I made a list of all the wonderful Christmassy things we'd do. It would be magic. UHG! It felt like I was role playing. Where was the magic of my youth?
Because it takes Word a couple of times of getting hit in the head with a brick before she finally gets it - this went on for at least three or four years. Finally, finally, I got it. Traditions are not planned or contrived. They happen when you least expect them.....if you let them. The best Christmas traditions are born out of laughter. Out of just being ourselves.
I'm 40 this year. AND finally there is a tradition that has attached itself to my family. It wasn't planned. It isn't even something I would necessarily choose to be remembered for. But there it is - (another deep breath) - drum roll please!
Word's super wonderful fabulous unique Christmas Tradition is - cookies. Now wait - you know me. There must be more to it than just cookies, right? Well there is. It's not the cookies so much as it is the way they are packaged. Let me explain. A few years ago, I was looking for a way to honor family and special people in my life with a gift. Now since we have long since decided not to exchange gifts among the adults in our big family Christmas get-togethers, I was stumped about how to let my parents, brothers and sisters know how much they are appreciated as well as how much my children appreciate the abundance of gifts they get from them.
Cookies were my answer. The kids and I would make cookies. Enough for everyone. Enough to feed all the starving children in China. Cookies galore! But when? We'd have to get started early. Right after Thanksgiving. But how would I keep all these cookies fresh and tasty. No freezer burn allowed for these cookies. They had to be perfect.
I'd individually wrap them in that self sticking saran wrap stuff....then double bag them in air tight ziplock freezer bags and stick them in the freezer.
Are you getting the picture yet? I'll wrap it up...pun intended. I, of course, take the cookies out of the freezer bags and put them in gift bags, but they stay wrapped up tight in that saran wrap stuff. Basically they are IMPENETRABLE. It takes an hour to get even one unwrapped before you can eat it. Oh it's fresh and tasty all right. Just nearly impossible to get to.
So - yes - I finally have my Christmas Tradition. Word's family is known as the giver of the impossible to eat Christmas Cookies. I'm so proud!
Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and I'm wishing you much happiness in 2008
Friday, December 28, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Cawffee Talk - Beware The Man Crush
Hi all! Welcome back. Sit down, kick back, and let's dicuss! This weeks topic -
There is a new phenomenon sweeping the nation, ladies. One that must be controlled and directed, lest it get out of control. This phenomenon is, of course, THE MAN CRUSH. Many of you will nod your heads knowingly, as your significant other has experienced said crush. For those of you that are scratching your heads, I will define.
THE MAN CRUSH: n. An intense infatuation usually exhibited by a man reaching the "Yeah, I know, I’m workin’ on it," age. The object of infatuation is generally red, made of metal and has lots of nifty buttons, at least two wheels, and is capable of making lots of noise. Symptoms include but are not limited to:
1. A sudden drop of checking account assets or....
2. A sudden increase in credit card debt or....
3. A sudden urge to imitate the object’s language. i.e "Vrrrroooooooooommmm chugga chugga vrooooom chugga chugga"
4. Personification of inanimate object. i.e. "Be right in hun, just gotta give Milly her rub down."
Word’s house was recently visited by THE MAN CRUSH. Now, I’ll admit, I wondered how I would ever be able to compete. I mean come on, she was everything my husband ever dreamed of -bright red, sleek, powerful, and loud. She even had a name. Mildred. And she could blow with gusto...snow that is. Mildred is his brand spankin’ new Toro snow-blower.
But yanno, THE MAN CRUSH, turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. My driveway is clear. My sidewalks are clear. Our backs and shoulders don’t ache. My husband is smiling again. The other morning, he even cheffed up a breakfast normally reserved for Mother’s Day - after he had his testosterone fix ridding driveway of the 6 inch accumulation.
He loves Mildred. I kinda like her too. ;-)
The Man Crush
There is a new phenomenon sweeping the nation, ladies. One that must be controlled and directed, lest it get out of control. This phenomenon is, of course, THE MAN CRUSH. Many of you will nod your heads knowingly, as your significant other has experienced said crush. For those of you that are scratching your heads, I will define.
THE MAN CRUSH: n. An intense infatuation usually exhibited by a man reaching the "Yeah, I know, I’m workin’ on it," age. The object of infatuation is generally red, made of metal and has lots of nifty buttons, at least two wheels, and is capable of making lots of noise. Symptoms include but are not limited to:
1. A sudden drop of checking account assets or....
2. A sudden increase in credit card debt or....
3. A sudden urge to imitate the object’s language. i.e "Vrrrroooooooooommmm chugga chugga vrooooom chugga chugga"
4. Personification of inanimate object. i.e. "Be right in hun, just gotta give Milly her rub down."
Word’s house was recently visited by THE MAN CRUSH. Now, I’ll admit, I wondered how I would ever be able to compete. I mean come on, she was everything my husband ever dreamed of -bright red, sleek, powerful, and loud. She even had a name. Mildred. And she could blow with gusto...snow that is. Mildred is his brand spankin’ new Toro snow-blower.
But yanno, THE MAN CRUSH, turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. My driveway is clear. My sidewalks are clear. Our backs and shoulders don’t ache. My husband is smiling again. The other morning, he even cheffed up a breakfast normally reserved for Mother’s Day - after he had his testosterone fix ridding driveway of the 6 inch accumulation.
He loves Mildred. I kinda like her too. ;-)
Friday, December 7, 2007
Cawfee Talk
In the grand tradition of Church Lady - I bring you Cawfee Talk. Cawfee Talk is a place for all of you WIPs out there to stop in - have a cup-o-joe - and chat about whetver the heck I decide we will be talking about. Because, well, I am Word. And I always have the last one....word that is....the last word....I get it....not you. Humph.
Today's discussion: Laughing at inappropriate times. Ever done it? Word has. Let's discuss.
If there ever was a time not to laugh, this was it. The preist's monotone voice chanted, "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." over and over and over again. I stood in the back of the room packed with relatives I knew and relatives I didn't. Most were old. Except for in the back of the room. That's where I stood along with my sister, brothers, and cousins.
Grandma was in the casket. Mom and my aunt and uncle were kneeling before her - rosaries in hand. I'd never seen such anguish rest itself on my mother's face before. The tears I cried that day were for my mother first, grandma second.
I moved my thumb and forefinger over the next bead on my pink rosary. "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." A familiar sound trupeted over the prayer. Did somebody turn a television on someplace? I looked at my cousin. His angelic face turned a harsh shade of red. He began to frantically tug at his watch. Pushing buttons. Nope. The theme song to The Dukes of Hazard was going full throttle. He shoved his hand in his pocket to muffle the sound his watch was making. It didn't work.
I felt it then. The grin. It was coming. Oh no. My uncle gave my cousin "the look". Uncanny how my uncle's "look" was the exact male version of my mother's "look". It did me in. I couldn't stop. I was in full out laughter that would not stop.
"Hail Mary. ((snort laugh)) Full of Grace."
Today's discussion: Laughing at inappropriate times. Ever done it? Word has. Let's discuss.
If there ever was a time not to laugh, this was it. The preist's monotone voice chanted, "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." over and over and over again. I stood in the back of the room packed with relatives I knew and relatives I didn't. Most were old. Except for in the back of the room. That's where I stood along with my sister, brothers, and cousins.
Grandma was in the casket. Mom and my aunt and uncle were kneeling before her - rosaries in hand. I'd never seen such anguish rest itself on my mother's face before. The tears I cried that day were for my mother first, grandma second.
I moved my thumb and forefinger over the next bead on my pink rosary. "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." A familiar sound trupeted over the prayer. Did somebody turn a television on someplace? I looked at my cousin. His angelic face turned a harsh shade of red. He began to frantically tug at his watch. Pushing buttons. Nope. The theme song to The Dukes of Hazard was going full throttle. He shoved his hand in his pocket to muffle the sound his watch was making. It didn't work.
I felt it then. The grin. It was coming. Oh no. My uncle gave my cousin "the look". Uncanny how my uncle's "look" was the exact male version of my mother's "look". It did me in. I couldn't stop. I was in full out laughter that would not stop.
"Hail Mary. ((snort laugh)) Full of Grace."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)