Tag: holiday

decorative

Epiphany, or 20CMB10 as we like to call it

It’s Three Kings Day – Epiphany! We acknowledged the 12 Days of Christmas by being lazy about cleaning up our tree and then this morning, all four of us stepped outside in the frozen tundra of the desert (the lows last night must have been in the 40s — BURR!) to bless the house.

God of Light, bless our house and our family. May this be a place of peace and health. May each member of this family cultivate the gifts and graces you have bestowed, dedicating our talents and works for the good of all.

Make this house a shelter in the storm and a haven of rest for all in need of your warmth and care. And when we go out from this place, may we never lose sight of that Epiphany star.

As we go about our work, our study, our play, keep us in its light and in your love.

It’s a Methodist prayer and we are Episcopalian, but like God really cares. I also don’t think God cares that the marking of the door with the date and initials of the kings should be done in chalk and over the door. We don’t have chalk. My kids’ teachers use dry erase and it seems to work miracles in the classroom. It looks good, right?


This version has the added benefit of being mobile. When the landlords kick us out so they can move in (whenever that will be because they just let us know things are “progressing slower than expected”), we’ll just take our blessing with us. That tile is a gift from my boss. She’s way cool like that and I say so knowing full well she doesn’t read this blog.

Kings’ Day means no more tree. What a mess! Better get out the vacuum.


Wah, wah, waaaaaaah.


I replaced the broken belt with a new one, which quickly burned through like the first after I made a big show to the kids that they had to learn to fix such things. Stink and smoke later, both kids stared at me with bitter disappointment in their eyes. I’m going to try a third belt to salvage the vacuum because maybe I didn’t make entirely sure that the brush was rotating properly. Also, I have to show everyone I’m right and that buying a new vacuum would be wasteful. Until then, the broom does an adequate job.

Christmas is cleaned up. Thank you letters, where appropriate (only to the most elderly of family members), are written. Presents put away. Sadly, the end of Christmas means no more of these (from a former boss),


or worse, no more of these (from the attendance clerk at my son’s school).


I like my gifties. Maybe I can craft a convincing argument that all my friends and family should resolve that in 2010, they will give me awesome gifts all year long. Maybe Hawt Mz could send home another empty bag of these cookies.

Anyone? Anyone?

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Christmas Gifts

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Gifts we gave. We made all our gifts this year, including zipper pulls for the cousins’ backpacks.


Gifts for the kids. The tree is propped up by presents especially selected by our loved ones for us. Some of us were excited and some of us played it cool.

The leather jacket emphasizes the cool, don’t you think?


Gifts for the dog. Toys marked “chew me” don’t last long around these parts.


Gifts for the future. I pray that I have enough of my children’s great grandmother’s genes to look this good in my mid 80s. She works out every day. Bleh.


Gifts to make me cry. Caddo Artist also gave handmade gifts. It’s too bad I couldn’t catch the detail on the beading along with the way it catches the light. Then again, all I’m trying to pass along is that people not on her Christmas list should be jealous. I’m jealous of myself!

My mom told me that I would have to wait until she died to get this scarf, just like she had to wait until my grandmother died. I didn’t have to wait and how nice is it that my mom is alive? She also recounted in a lovely illuminated letter the story of the scarf and a childhood trip with her mother to San Francisco.


Dreams of our new year. I can count my blessings at Thanksgiving, but I learn so much more about giving at Christmas. Between now and the new year, I’ll be considering the generosity of my family by birth and by choice. This season I’ve been put on notice that the world has the capacity to be beautiful, kind, and creative. I must respond likewise. I’ll have challenges, but I’ll have support. In this way, I (you are welcome on the journey) can continue to dream for a world in which every day we celebrate the best in each other (after you quit gagging, of course).

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Christmas Giving

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Now that we’ve gotten past the food and many of us have exorcised our inner shopping demons, I’d like to provide, as so many others have, alternative thoughts on gift giving at Christmas. My brother-in-law has requested a no spending policy between our families this season and I’m more than pleased to oblige. We did agree that no spending could mean finding our inner craftster, however, I’m unlikely to make this for his kiddos:


This Tampon Angel arrived in my Facebook inbox from a most unlikely source. I’m not saying it’s my Senior Warden because if she had wanted folks to know about her inner subversive, surely she would have posted it on her own wall. Then again I told her I wanted to post it post-turkey and with her reply of, “I dare ya!” she cast herself as a provocateur. For this reason, I will allude to the identity of the sender rather than state outright it was the Senior Warden, who would also have you know about the Grace St. Paul Alternative Christmas Fair on December 13. Last year they had Just Coffee, handmade items, and sales that benefited not-for-profit organizations.

Wise Bread also offers strategies to keep you in budget this year. If you are considering pulling out the plastic, consult this post from Pimp Your Finances. Man Vs. Debt challenges his giving policy — something most of us can afford to reexamine.

Christmas shouldn’t be a drag. I plan to get my kiddos that Shoot ‘Em Up Pet Shop Pokémon Heavy Metal Glitter Goo-gaw. I certainly learned from my own family that getting that one oh so materialistic as to be painfully obscene gift does bring joy to all involved. I also know that the Christmas we had relatively few presents, but ate a huge breakfast and watched black and white footage from my dad’s childhood was one of my favorite Christmases — though I liked the Barbie Dream House too.

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Mother Earth Day

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About mid-way between Earth Day and Mother’s Day, Caddo Artist sent me this:


Caddo Care Carton Contents:

Sandy Springs Buffalo Meat Jerky, Hinton, OK
Pepper Creek Farms Dip Mix, Lawton, OK
EEMB Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookie Mix & Peanut Butter Brownie, Lexington, OK
Lasley Roasted Peanuts, Eakly, OK
Scott Farms Tortilla Soup Mix & Reds, Rice, & Spice, Altus, OK
Sooners Salsa, Amigo’s Salsa, Ardmore, OK
Native Roots Market Bumper Sticker, Norman, OK

That there first item was done et straight’way. The brownie soon follered and the salsa wern’t long for this world. I’m not saying that Caddo is fattening me up for reunion slaughter; I am saying I haven’t exhibited much self-control.

Caddo included a card with the quotation, “There is nothing more honorable than motherhood.” I have plans in the coming days to disprove this, but for now, I am embracing the honorific. A separate note read, in part, “I wanted to send the apple pie, it was a party in your mouth with every bite!” The tease! I guess there is honor in motherhood, but cruelty in friendship.

Okay, while she did everything as I have written, the expanded contents of the note were personal, touching, inspiring, and directed straight my way. Perhaps there is nothing more honorable than motherhood, but for sure there’s nothing more humbling than reflective generosity. This mother of three who takes care of her family and friends so well is certainly most honorable.

A Breath of Fresh Air

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Those who know and love me understand that I am going to let them down at the holidays. It’s just not my thing – not that I haven’t tried. Not that I haven’t tried to do it up, that is, not not that I haven’t tried to let folks down. It’s inevitable that I let you down, because even though I try, I’m not that good at doing it up. Huh?

Point is, I suck at holidays regardless of my intention, but I’m a spectacular holiday voyeur. If I were to do Valentine’s Day for all ya’ll, I’d give you the gift of clean, fresh air. TreeHugger just posted a list of the plants I would consider for you. How cute is this Philodendron oxycardium (in lay terms, heartleaf philodendron)? It’s perfect for Valentine’s Day and a good air filterer to boot (whatever “to boot” means). Incidentally, you can buy a whole book, How to Grow Fresh Air: 50 House Plants that Purify Your Home or Office, on this subject. Maybe you could even pair the plant and book.*

I’m sure that I’m breaking some bloggy rule by reposting for a third year in a row an excerpt from a Valentine’s Day past post, but no one is paying attention anyway. This year, I think I might rather like some Garbage Soup.

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February 12, 2007

Please don’t go out on Valentine’s Day and drop a chunk of change on flowers that were coated in pesticides, kept in a green house, and shipped across the country. What is that supposed to say? “I love you so muchly that I’m giving you something unnaturally begotten. Also, in its making a part of the world was poisoned. Lastly, even with the aspirin dissolving in the water, it’s doomed to die leaving nothing to show for the cash. THIS is the symbol of my love for you.” Please. Save your money.**

…

I am compelled to request that you forget the expensive roses! Instead, share this recipe for Garbage Soup, from Dining with the Desert Museum* (with editorial). It would be good for your wallet, the environment, and an honest statement about the longevity of love.

INGREDIENTS:
water (the elixir of life)
vegetable waste (eggplant sounds like elegant fare for a Valentine dinner, but gack!)
coffee grounds (from the pot you shared over morning breath)
eggshells (you already walked on them so they are nicely crushed)
other similar kitchen waste (so not the shit you sling at each other like monkeys after the kids are in bed)
not grease (this is about living plants not the yummy goodness of slaughtered lambs)

DIRECTIONS: Chop waste in food processor or blender with equal parts water. Mix it up until it’s as convoluted as your fights. Bury soup around outer edges of plants along side the hatchet.

Commercial fertilizers can kill beneficial microorganisms in the soil. This recipe for plants can be used in lieu of those fertilizers. Can you feel the love?

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* Did I mention I am a sell-out, er, Amazon Associate?

** Populist, perhaps you could illuminate for us the reasons why guys buy temporary tokens of their love as you told me outright last year, “Your understanding about why men give Valentine’s gifts is obviously different from mine.” I’m willing to wager dollar to dime even in this recession that you know a damn sight more on the subject than I do. What would Grace think?

SUCK IT!

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I guess I was supposed to make a big “to-do” about my 100th post. Oh, well. YAY for you last post I posted! Anyway, onward and onward.

I couldn’t have predicted my adventish anticipation for January 20th. Inauguration is also the 100th day of school for my children and both their schools are planning celebrations. Plus, Arizona just made it to the Superbowl. Additionally, I just adore my friends. I have spectacular friends. My friends are great because they give me stuff. Good stuff. Stuff I bet you wish you had. A la la la.

Magical Martha, who can make anything happen and does, gave me lemons from her tree. Not only that, she gave me freshly squozen lemon juice and promises of a rockin’ lemonade recipe. THEN, our neighbors dropped by with more lemons. We are flush with the fruit. OMG! I want to make lemon everything! Got a good recipe?

Next up is the tale of my own greed and gluttony. A member of my book club, whose hubby heads up some biodiesel group here in town, gets fry grease from local restaurants and turns it into gas in their backyard for her car. The byproduct of this process is glycerin. Yup. Soap. They’ve packaged it as Grease Monkey soap and I think they should totally make it a commercial venture. I’m so in awe of this process because the oil was 1) used to cook food, 2) used to power a car, and 3) used to wash up, which means that it’s used, reused, and rereused with NO WASTE LEFT OVER. When her book club holiday exchange gift was Grease Monkey soap, well, I sorta threw a hissy fit. “I want some!” She’s a better person than I am (let’s face it, most people are), and made more soap – enough for our whole group.

And not related to my friends who are generous, I just want to do a quick shout out to Robyn. If you don’t know her, you should. Life would be gray and dull without her. I know this unequivocally. I watched her sew today and that was, it was, the penultimate.

Wanna know what I give my friends? NOTHING! HA! Suck it! Perhaps I should feel badly that I inspire such generosity without being generous myself – but I don’t! So, while some look at their buddies and wonder “what have they done for me lately?”, I’m going to suck a lemon, take a shower, and call Robyn to schedule a Superbowl clatch.

Resolution 1 – Keep Tongue in Cheek

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My buddy posted a photo of me on Facebook with my tongue sticking out. The hubster has posted a photo on Facebook and My Space of me with my tongue sticking out. All embarrassment aside about why I’d have “My Face” accounts, I really need to examine my tendency to sabotage photos with my tongue.

My mother used to say, “I wouldn’t want that nasty thing in my mouth either.” In today’s parlance, I think that means, “Whatever.” While she found the stuck out tongue offensive, in one of my most memorable photos of her mother, the tongue is out. Apparently, I’m passing the proclivity on to my own progeny.

Tongue Twisters

This is my kids’ favorite:
Unique New York

This is Guinness’s hardest:
The sixth sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick.

This is the least appropriate for children:
I’m not the pheasant plucker, I’m the pheasant plucker’s son,
And I’m only plucking pheasants till the pheasant pluckers come!

Are these facts true?

* If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee. Anyone wanna come over for a piping hot brew?

* The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds. That’s sad news for bottom feeders.

* Every person has a unique tongue print, though I am sure the blotters don’t taste all that great.

Great Tongues Behave Alike


Mental Note

Sticking out your tongue isn’t the only way to goof in a photo. In the New Year, I will place my tongue more firmly in my cheek in favor of less bacterial photos.

New Year’s Kiss Off!

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You see that? THAT is how I feel about the new year thus far. It’s only puke, cleaning up puke, and being flipped off at the In-N-Out on New Year’s Eve. Okay, that latter part is actually quite funny, don’t you think? The hubster is HILARIOUS.

I spent forever on an end of the year photo retrospective. It was going to be awesome and you would have loved it. Sadly, I never saved the project and it was gone in a flash. So, too bad for all of you ’cause it would have been the bome (inside joke – too bad for you again)!

Did I mention the puke? As in clean it up with a dustpan volumes of puke. Puke from every member of the family except the person who had to clean it all up – me. Puke in the minivan, which requires 24/7 open windows. Puke on the carpet, which has had to be shampooed twice in the last two days. Puke that you slip on when you hit the concrete floors. Puke. That reminds me, I’m not feeling so well.

Speaking of bodily functions, I visited Milk Breath today. She posts about Google Analytics and requests key word search information from other bloggers. Overwhelmingly, poop brings people here. My most viewed page is the chocolate chip cookie post. It would be easier to just look at the bag of chips for the recipe. In any event, I hope poop searches have nothing to do with my cookies.

That cookie post is about accepting imperfections. Having recently returned home from home, I am reaquainted with all my imperfections past and present. If I cared about continuity in writing, I’d say it makes me feel “pukey”, but really it feels like shame. Shame, shame, everyone knows your name. I wondered about this today with a friend. I’ve done a thing or two that I can’t be proud of, but overall I’ve worked hard to be honorable. WHY do I have to feel shame and why is the shame illusive and not tied into a particular event? My friend said it’s because people have a fixed frame of reference. It’s the you 20 years ago that they can’t let go because it’s familiar. That past you was still trying to figure out how to be and they don’t know the current you. Perhaps, but that’s their problem. Why do I have to feel the shame?

Two days into the new year and here I am. Spinning wheels, puked on, poop reputed, and shamed. Pluck you 2009! I’m resolving to outlast all 365 damn days of you.

This Girl Can GIVE!

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HO-LY COW! I got an e-mail from my friend Tracy about her giving this year. I’ve wanted to hear expressions of appreciation for memorable, meaningful gifts. Partly because I don’t want to give away what I’m giving and partly because I’m so frequently the recipient of gifts made of pure awesome. Once I read her message for, oh, the bazillionth time thinking that this is a woman who KNOWS how to give, I asked her if I could digest her Christmas list on my blog.

You may recall from a previous post that Tracy is a Caddo artist specializing in fan making. Fans aren’t the only thing she can make. These are traditional Caddo necklaces. “Yes, they took a looong time to make. But, they are gonna look great on my girls!”

Not to be outdone, her son made a necklace for each of his sisters and his father. Like his mother he considers each bead and the eventual design it will make. That is quite some bit of work for a tyke. “It is funny to watch him picking out which bead is next. He really has a “thing” with colors.” He has plans to make two more. Go little P!

These are traditional Caddo Dushtoohs. “I made new ones because my girls keep growing! I wish they would quit that. So inconsiderate to grow out of the clothes and regalia I make.” Not being Caddo, I’ve never had a Dushtooh. Makes me feel a little sorry for myself. I did have a traditional pair of Nikes once. They were purple and I pronounced them with a long I and a silent E. I think Dushtoohs are prettier, but I’m still not sure how to pronounce them.

She also donated over 250K feet of reel-to-reel audio recordings her grandparents made of Caddo dancing, singing, and talking along with 45 pounds of written language, notes, and journals migrated to CDs. Sam Noble Oklahoma Museum of Natural History, one of my favorite places on earth, recognized this act as more than a simple archival donation. Many tribal languages like Caddo die out with the elders. The museum already found a Ph.D. candidate in Linguistics to start working on it. Do you think refrigerator drawings of guys picking their noses and eating their buggers would be as happily received? Hell no! Tracy comes from a family with weight and the entire world will benefit from her gift.

I’m not giving away any more of her presents with a presence. For one, I don’t want her fam to know what they are getting and for another I’m going to steal her ideas. Just trust me, it pays to be a member of her family. And yes, Tracy, you pass. I’m thinking of something more special for you than molted chicken feathers.

I still want to hear your stories of receiving. I went shopping today with an evil woman who allowed $200ish to slide right out of my wallet. I feel the spirit of giving creeping right into my bones.