Tag: holiday

Presents with a Presence

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This is a participatory post, so you lazy lurkers put on your big kid pants and help a girl out.

I’ve changed my mind about hand-made pledges at Christmas. I tried it last year, but the store has good stuff too. I think “presents with a presence pledge” would be more appropriate for me. To ease into the holiday spirit and to put giving in the proper perspective, I plan to spend the next few weeks reflecting on gifts that affected me in a fundamental way. That includes the Molly Pitcher sheet music, gold-cup strung necklace, and “¿Eso si, que es?/SOCKS” (This gift here, what does it mean?) I mentioned in my previous post. I want YOU to leave a comment or a link to your blog post on meaningful giving.

I’ll get us started. Yesterday I was looking for love notes from the Hubster. I didn’t find any, but that’s something to hash out over dinner when it’s time to make the children cry. Instead I found the leather bound blank book my 6 YO girl’s great aunt sent to her, in which she wrote funny stories of her brother/my daughter’s grandfather. I was taken aback at how affected my daughter was by her grandfather’s passing all things considered. The two of them were lovely together and she took his passing hard. The journal from her great-aunt wasn’t just a way to pass on family history, but rather it honored the connection between a grandfather and granddaughter.

For Locals

I’ve just stepped off the curb with my “He Lives” sign and I’m all high on Jesus. I appreciate the welcome to ALL people (including Republicans) and, once a year, pets at my place of worship and want to give them a shout out for two of their upcoming events.

December 7th, Grace St. Paul’s is hosting an alternative craft fair. After the 8 and 10 a.m. services, tables will be set up offering you the opportunity to buy mosquito nets from the Episcopal Relief and Development to help prevent malaria in Sub-Saharan Africa, a flock of chickens for a family in South America from Heifer Project International, or you can buy lovely handmade and unique crafts from African Team Ministries. Additionally, if you are crafty and would possibly like to have a table, it’s an open fair. But it’s THIS Sunday so call quickly, 327-6857.

December 14th, Grace St. Paul’s is having a Blue Christmas service for people who tend more toward depression than celebration this time of year.

These Gifts Knocked My Socks Off

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Every so often someone surprises me with a gift so special that I can’t possibly express my gratitude. After I was presented a Molly Pitcher award, which is unquestionably the highest honor I’ve ever received and an embarrassment of riches I did not deserve, my father-in-law enlisted my sister-in-law’s help to purchase sheet music to the Molly Pitcher song he sang as a child. It wasn’t the sheet music that was touching, but what it represented. Acceptance from in-laws doesn’t come easy. That’s one thing you can’t buy at the Walmarts.

I can appreciate an expensive gift as easily as an affordable one if the thought is there. My parents and brother gave me a necklace one pearl at a time over 20 years to commemorate big days in my life. Last year Mom strung my pearls in a gold cup pattern (that’s like a tin cup only instead of singles, the pearls are in groups of two and three). I did earn this gift and it was presented to me over time by three people who know virtually every rotten thing I’ve ever done in life and politely don’t mention them. I don’t know if I’ve seen anything so beautiful EVER as my necklace and my kids had better not let it go in a tag sale upon my death.

I am again the lucky recipient of yet another gift to remember for the rest of my days. Today, my daughter’s teacher, who was also my daughter’s teacher last year and my son’s for the two years prior to that, gave me a pair of socks. These are the most fantastic socks I have ever or will ever own. They are colorful and comfortable and hand knitted by a woman so committed to children, families, and community that it’s folly for her to waste time on me. She used Japanese wool that she had been saving for a special project. As she knitted, loop by loop, she thought of me and the cold weather I encounter when going home for Christmas.


The teacher shared the socks with her students at “Tree Talk”, her version of show and tell. After school, my daughter joined her teacher to witness the giving. As I waited for my surprise, I tried to pry the secret from my daughter who was looking up at me with her sparkling eyes and an expression of pride. She would not tell, but the silly grin on her mug showed that she was excited.

Here again, the thought and meaning behind a gift launches it into the forever of my memory and teaches me about being more engaged in giving. The socks are indeed warm, gorgeous, and fit just right. The socks represent that another person in this world sees me and thinks of me when I’m not around. The gift of these socks elevated me in my daughter’s eyes. How could I ever express my appreciation to a woman who is already such a part of so much of what is good with my children? The woman who got my son through his father’s deployment, the woman who welcomed my daughter into her class before she was even a student, the woman who lets me into her class and share in the breakthroughs of her students. It’s impossible.

Thank you.

Halloween Snapshot

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Okay, I wanted to blog all this stuff about Halloween, but I neglected to attend to one of the more important tenants of publishing – deadlines. Of course for a blog, I don’t have to plan as far ahead as traditional publishing, but perhaps some of this would have been more interesting/useful BEFORE Halloween. It’s highly unlikely that my three readers would take a look at this today. In any event and without further ado, here are my Halloween snapshots.

First, we picked pumpkins. This was a time for funny faces and produce bigger than my baby. In AZ, we sell our pumpkins alongside dried chilies.

On to the massacre. The Weisers continue to invite us to Pumpkinpalooza in spite of the fact that we ALWAYS come. Robyn is a great pal who shows us a good time and feeds us well. Chili – YUM! I took a photo of my dinner. This year, I let the ankle biters carve their own designs with actual knives. No trips to the ER. Phew!


The 8 YO boy carved a bat in flight and the 6 YO girl carved a kitten cat. I scored a surplus pumpkin for free because someone dropped it. I carved snakes coming out of the resultant crack, which I had enlarged. We coated our pumpkins with Vaseline so that they would keep. We didn’t do such a great job this year and that, partnered with the heat, saw two of our pumpkins turn gross-out mushy.

I painted the girl’s fingernails orange, but it didn’t last. Then we roasted our pumpkin seeds. We washed the 3 or so cups of seeds, boiled them for 10 minutes in 14 cups of water and 14 tablespoons of salt, then coated them in olive oil and roasted them at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. YUM! Better than I thought, though I’m not the sort who cares for the outer shell.

Finally, we are looking forward to Dia de los Muertos. The kids made sugar skulls at one of the school’s fundraisers. Cute huh? These were made sans glue, so they are entirely edible.

Anna and I have been talking about how fun and inspiring Dia de los Muertos is in comparison to the more somber Memorial Day. They each have their place. Grace St. Paul’s Episcopal Church is celebrating the Feast of All Saints on November 1st and the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed (All Souls’ Day) on November 2nd. I’m looking forward to bringing photos of my loved ones who’ve passed on to the services.

Check out posts from last year. Here, Here, Here, and Here.

We’ve Been BOOed!

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The hubster and I endeavored to teach our kids the time-honored tradition of ding-dong ditch. We called it something else when I was a kid and though it was alliterate, it wasn’t very nice. Pranking isn’t part of the value system we normally teach our children, but with Halloween coming and all we were happy for the chance provided by some goblins at my daughter’s school – the happiest place on earth with all due respect to Disneyland. We were BOOed, you see. It’s a cool tradition even if it does smack reminiscent of chain letters.

The other night as we fought over homework, there was a frantic knock on the door, but no one visible through the peephole. JEEPERS! A mystery! Upon opening the door, we saw a sack full of candy and a note that read, “You’ve been BOOed! Blah blah blah. You have to BOO two other families.” As we read the note, there was another knock. The thing is you are supposed to put a note on your door stating that you’ve been BOOed to prevent spam BOOings, but you can’t do that if you are still in the act of reading the directions. More intrigue! Upon opening the door that second time, we had a pumpkin full of Tom’s children’s toothpaste and toothbrushes, among other stuff. How cool! Why, oh why can’t we be BOOed all the time? Oh, yeah, the chain part.

The kids and I went shopping for spooky gifts to pass on. We made sweet little bundles and set out with the master of delinquency, their father. Heh heh. First house, darn! Door’s open and barking dog spies the kids through the screen door. The 6 YO girl shouts her brother’s non-standard name. RUN! The door answerer squinted through the dark as the kids ran to our vehicle.

On to door number 2. The kids are fighting about whether or not the gifts are placed close enough to the door and when the bell should be rung. DING DONG DOH! The door answerer through the bushes spied the 8 YO boy attempting conversation outside the driver side door to his father who urged, “Get in the car! Get in the car!” Fortunately, by house 3, we had the procedure down.

Ding-dong ditch, easy peasy lemon squeazy heavily laced with adrenaline.

Happy Birthday to Me!

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For some reason I dressed all in shades of brown with black and white highlights today. I likely look like a monkey, but as my big bro points out, I don’t have to smell like one too. I could shower. But I didn’t, because it’s my birthday and I didn’t want to. Happy birthday to me, I live in a zoo, I look like a monkey, and I smell like one too. Oh, wouldn’t it be awful if I smelled like “one/TWO”? Eegads! Then again, I’d fit in at the park where I cruse the homeless cliques in my never ending search for a good source of TB.

I also didn’t want to drive the kids to school so the hubster did it. I stayed in my jammies until 9:30 in the a. to the m. Then I bought myself a full-fat iced mocha from a local joint who gave me a 15% discount on account of how awesome I am (and how I rocked my Catcard). Heck, for all I know the coffee wasn’t even Fair Trade and it came in a one-time use (but recyclable) plastic cup that didn’t even drip on my shirt. Afterward, I went to my son’s school on the premise that I would train to volunteer in the library. I was really only going to hang out with Anna who was casual cool in a Japanese coy T. We went to lunch.

Food was a big part of my big dia. I got some backyard tomaters from Molly and popsicles for FOUR kids plus myself from Kathy and hung out with Cassandra and Yvonne. Then Todd-o and Jesse took me and the ankle biters out for dinner. YUM-O and no dishes bitches! Please excuse my tone. I think my husband’s near beer has gone to my head. Luckily, he limited himself at one. That was his joke, btw. He’s hilarious.

Even the chickens helped me celebrate. They each gave me a perfectly shaped and colored egg. Thoughtfully, Flower treated me to an egg from the nest and not one randomly left in cacti or the coop floor. Jesse’s aunt sent me a pewter photo frame and of course my grandmother sent me a check for $25. Kari sent me a cardi and so did the dentist and a restaurant. My dad wished me happy birthday on his blog and my mother sent me a “card is in the mail” e-mail. I live a fat life!

Finally, because it’s my birthday, I’m not going to bother with “visual interest” on my blog. Now it’s time to leave you now (right bro?).

Who Lives Down There?

For Earth Day I taught 300 Borton children and adults how to determine “what lives down there?” Here I am.

My daughter is the noticeably bored kid in blue. The first language of the kid staring at the ground up front is Kurdish. I’m hoping they don’t represent how miserable everyone else was at the only station in full sun.

For three years, I’ve been visiting the bird sanctuary at my children’s school and staring at a variety of ground holes. The first year, I walked around a couple of times watching Anna and betts struggle with irrigation while noticing the subterranean homes of the desert critters. Jesse was in Iraq and so my attention was divided. Mostly I remember the striped shirt I wore on both visits. The second year was focused on pulling buffel grass and looking at ground holes. I don’t remember what I wore. This third year we’ve worked on getting children and families into the bird sanctuary. Since I’d spent three years thinking of Wonderland down those rabbit holes, I was elected to run a station on ground hole identification. I wore a striped skirt.

Here’s your minilesson:
1) Where is the hole located? Is it elevated or level with the ground? Is it out in the open or under a bush or between rocks?
2) How big is the hole? Is it small for insects or ants? Is it medium sized for a rodent of some sort? Is it large enough to accommodate a coyote? Measure the height/width of the entrance for more precise identification. In general you’ll look for holes smaller than 3 inches, between 3 and 8 inches, and greater than 8 inches in diameter.
3) What shape is the hole? Circular holes typically belong to rodents. You’re likely to find lizards in semicircular holes. Ovular holes will house tortoises, for example.

You can take note of other details too like if it has a silky barrier to it (you can expect a spider in that hole) or whether the homeowner is tidy or messy. Sometimes another animal will move into an abandoned hole. I showed the kids all kinds of photos of animals with their holes, including burrowing owls and kangaroo rats.

At this point, I asked the kids to look around the sanctuary to see if they can guess “who lives down there?” If they wrote down the answers to the three questions I gave them and send a letter to me using the school’s post office, I would help them identify ground holes in their yards or nearby parks. The kids were pretty cool, but the adults giggled when I invited everyone to tell me about their holes. I have received no letters thus far.

Check out more pix of our awesome Earth Day. Sadly, the composting station didn’t get photographed. The kids really got into worm poop.

Garbage Soup Redeux

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I’m reposting a excerpt from a blog I wrote last year about Valentine’s Day. Partly because it got a good response and I like praise and partly because the holiday is a loser holiday for Jesse as I am never materially satisfied. Either it’s too much or not enough.

In the next few days I plan to come up with gift suggestions to make Jesse’s life easier like fair trade organic chocolate or bath and body products I might actually use or maybe a Prius limo. Honestly, I think I might like a composter even though I have no clue what I’d do with good dirt out here in the desert. Maybe one of you will see something to put on your list.

And now for old news…

++++++++++++++

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. Buy a plant. I hear that bamboo palm is good for taking formaldehyde out of the air.

…

I am compelled to request that you forget the expensive roses! Instead, share this recipe for Garbage Soup, from a Sonoran Desert cookbook (with editorial from me). 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?

Kakefuda Furoshiki

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I haven’t, and may not find time to, wrap my Christmas gifts. Maybe that’s a good thing because I just stumbled across this You Tube video.

This is furoshiki, the Japanese art of gift wrap. Kakefuda in Kyoto, Japan is such a cool place. Judging by the website, that is. Go see it. I visited Kyoto in 1991, but was so busy looking for a McDonald’s that I never saw such a store! Not that I would have had money to shop, but I could have looked.

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Black Friday: A Mad, Mad World

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My kids have their toy catalogs circled in fat sharpie. Family have requested the lists. I know at least two people who plan to get a 4 a.m. head start on Black Friday. Bah Humbug. Sigh, not really. I like buying stuff and I’m not immune to marketing. I’m thinking about my shopping to-do list too.

I will do most of my purchasing for kids at Kid’s Center, which is nearly the best place on earth. Their website isn’t that exciting, but their tiny store is incredible. Their sales staff knows every thing about every great, fantastic, spectacular toy and book ever. Kid’s Center is pricey, but soooo worth it. I’ll do a fair amount of shopping at other places.

A Greater Gift has a catalog of fair trade items from around the world. Purchases benefit the artisans directly. I have bought clever wooden puzzles and a few other things and have been pleased with the value and quality. It’s like shopping at the UNICEF store. For fair trade clothing, I shop at Fair Indigo. Think Land’s End with a conscience. Not much organic, but we all start somewhere.

Speaking of green choices, my sister-in-law Jennifer, the one in CA and not the one in TX, though I don’t think the one in TX would be opposed, just that I have two sisters-in-law named Jennifer and the one in CA turned me onto Greener Choices. It’s a Consumer Reports site that should aid in determining if a product is truly green or if it’s a green wash. The easiest green gift guide I have found is, of course, at Tree Hugger. You browse by the interest of the person on your list.

Heifer International has been my place to go for wedding presents of late, but not everyone appreciates a rabbit trio they don’t get to keep. Then again, if you are thinking of getting my kids rabbits, we would like to have them kenneled in another country. Donations to charities are perfect this time of year and great for the taxes in April. Speaking of which, I know a church in need of $90K towards their HVAC. You might be able to find their link to the left (the GSP website is temporarily down).

A Borton parent/pal, Alex, put me onto Etsy where people sell their folk art. You can even look at artists near you and purchase locally. There’s plenty of knitery, jewelry, and stuff you wouldn’t want. But there are also beautiful quilts, funky accessories, and, uh, stuff. I wouldn’t have a use for these gloves but you have to admit they are CLEVER.

In the past, I’ve tried to ask people to not buy us stuff. We don’t have the room, it sends the wrong message, blah blah blah, whatever my reasoning was. In retrospect, that’s a ridiculous selfish request because people like to give, especially at Christmas. Darned everyone’s generosity! I can only control my own choices and I won’t be fighting the crowd at the mall grabbing one of a million factory produced doo-dads that we “must have” and try to pass it off as specially chosen for the special people in my life. I will try to focus on the people on either end of my purchases – those from whom I buy and to whom I give.

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Halloween Isn’t for Bores

It looks like Brittany Spears has a new Halloween costume. I saw on Perez Hilton that she’s got those Hollywood leach lips. She’s also got a head start on her tricks as she ran over the foot of a photographer on her way out of the doctor’s office. Hmm, the mind reels with possibilities for dressing up to honor this inspiring falling star.

My favorite costume ever was bestowed upon me by my big bro waaaay over a decade ago and I’ve seen it plenty since. I taped a giant gift bow to my shirt and attached an over-sized card that read, “To the World: From God.” But then Jack assures me that he really thinks I am God’s gift to the world.

Jack is great at costuming because he never buys anything pre-made. He also adds a sick twist on his costumes. He might, for example, take something sweet and innocent like the Easter Bunny and make it sinister. He might give it vampire fangs or a thorny crown. Maybe that’s too sinister. Sorry Jesus. Thank God I can get forgiveness on Sunday.

Going along with my boring ideas about helping others and staying healthy and not polluting the planet, I hoped that my 30 friends, excluding Tom because he really doesn’t talk to me anymore, might get inspired and make costumes this year. Keep your money in your pocket and stay away from the vinal – unless you want to do some dominatrix stuff. You know, I don’t want to judge.

If you need help coming up with an idea, here are a few from Heckel on The Daily Camera:
* Smear black mascara under an eye and tape a pea to your chest. You’re a black-eyed pea.
* Wear all black, except for one arm. You’re the Def Leppard drummer’s severed arm.
* Duct-tape your body sticky-side-out and cover in popcorn and candy wrappers and look like a movie theater floor.
* Tape mirrors on your body, and you can be everyone else.
* Wear pink and tape a shoe to your head. Say you are used bubble gum.
* Instead of pretending you are a cat but are really just wearing your underwear and looking like a stripper, why not be honest? Be a stripper.

And I hope to see pix of each of you. You can post them here or on your own website, but let me see them. I’m thinking of being a soccer mom this year. Hold on… van, check, soccer balls, check, grassy socks all over the place, check, half consumed water bottles with flotsam floating in them, check. Oops. I’m already a soccer mom.