Tag Archives: Christmas

As Sleep Creeps In

Sometimes Christmas feels a bit melancholy, and I once despised David Benoit’s tunes for The Peanuts that reminded me so. Now I love them, thankfully. Here’s another somewhat melancholy tune because melancholia sounds better when sung in French, from retro times past.

It was just Christmas a blink of an eye ago, and I was smiling internally all the morning through as I caught glimpses of the accumulated snow out my windows. Standing in the kitchen, I pressed down on a lemon, beginning to roll it along the cutting board to release all its juice before cutting into it for the sweet ginger syrup I was making for the blackberries. I’d just finished preparing an incredibly decadent Butterfinger pie the likes of which Bart would be proud. As I pressed, I looked down to find my hand wet and stinging, juice having found an invisible cut along my index. A first time for everything, there is, juice shot outta the skin of a lemon not yet cut- strength on my part or a lethargic lemon throwing in the towel early- you choose.

Squirrels are just daytime rats with a penchant for nuts. I gathered this while attempting to walk past the recycling bins this morning on the way to the car. I say attempt, because were YOU to be wearing my shoes on the (sneakily) icy pavement, you too may’ve spun ‘round twice, stumbled, and recovered just as I did. A solid 8.5!

I’m reluctant to stop watching holiday movies, as I started late this year. There’s one on in the background, even now. Someone’s late night/early morning shower has started in the building somewhere, which I find soothing to hear- the white noise of it, maybe. Trying not to be afraid of the new year ahead because there’s no use in that, but nevertheless. Hope brought me snow on Christmas, it can bring a heckuva a lot more. I want new and good things for my loved ones to start. ♦

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Perspective

“Jingle”

I’ve got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle. Eh, not really. So I just Googled “no Christmas spirit as an adult.” It’s lacking this year, and I’m curious what the world has to say about it. The top search returns? Adult hospice events. Yikes! Turns out I typed in “ni” instead of “no” which connected me with “Northern Ireland Hospice Care.” A lack of spirit doesn’t seem quite so bad now. ♦

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When Your Umbrella Keeps Opening In the Front Seat

And that’s how my week started off. Favorite umbrella, sporadic releasing mechanism, passenger’s side, freeway, crikey! Multiple openings, and though my lane control may’ve suffered momentarily, I’ve lived to tell about it. And still love umbrellas!

Gonna take a moment from wrap-wrap-wrapping to switch to a little write-write-writing. My home smells like spices- rich, Christmasey, and comforting. I’ll have to fend off an evening nap soon, I’m sure. I swear my eyes were just open, it was merely September, I’ve blinked and ka-plow!- Christmas next week! Only threw up some garland, bows, a few lights and a little greenery this time around.

“Candy

Here stands the humble and lovely tree, fake though it may be. First fake tree ever! Bah-flippin’-humbug! I ALWAYS have a real one as the main tree! Harumpf. Fake ones are welcome in other rooms as long as they boast something fakely fun in the color, tinsel, or flockery department. I didn’t have the heart to pester my Dad and his now sore knees nor Shane to help lug the tree upstairs and into place, though I know they’d both have done so. Shane and Bean bought a house and just got moved in several weeks ago so they’re a tad busy. In faux tree contrast, this was THE YEAR of people heading up into the woods to chop one down and bring it home, it seems. Never gone that route. Next year. Next yearing life away.

“Festive

“Kitschy

Spotted this fun Christmas kitsch near a hitch while lunching with some ladies yesterday. This is the first year I’ve not put a wreath on my car. Glad to see they’ve done so. Step it up, Davis! Time to return to all the wrapping, and forego the napping despite the settee demanding attention. ♦

“Languish”

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Fried Gold

“Thwhack

“Thwhack

“Thwhack

“Thwhack

One must be prepared in all things when growing their family, so thought I’d help Shane out in protecting the home front with a gift this past Christmas. Found these gorgeous cricket bats etched with the plan from Shaun of the Dead. The designer acquired a number of them from the UK ranging in age anywhere between the 1930s to the 1970s. It arrived wrapped in burlap and smelled so ding-dang good. ♦

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To What End

I don’t like not writing and sharing, at the very least, a little. Been trying to post on Instagram the last few months and I’m awful at it. Have had an account for years lying dormant, so thought I’d (finally) give it a go, but after a time, ten likes feel the same as fifty and who the heck cares.

“To

I’ve a backlog of photos I’d like to post that were supposed to find their way to Instagram, but I haven’t tended to business. Yet. I’m more concerned with the photos I’ve let pass by in recent times like the car key that landed perpendicularly onto the elevator crack. Had it landed parallel (onto it), a photo wouldn’t have done any good in capturing the abyss beyond.

“To

I made some pretty nifty zombie heads in jars to celebrate a Walking Dead themed work celebration that deserved a pic or two. Zombies used to scare the poopella outta me, blame it on the release of the 1990 version of Night of the Living Dead. The plodding methodical body with no mind to reason with nor to outmaneuver. Zombies were second only to anything in a mask. Obscure the eyes, cover the nuance of movement upon the face, leave nothing to be “read”? Michael Meyers embodies both the methodical plodding AND an engulfing mask. Love what you fear.

“To

“To

Oh, and that time the engine nearly fell out of my car wiping the oil pan out entirely and was salvaged only by a portion of a passenger-side floorboard. That was meant for a photo, but I was just glad to not have injured anyone. Now a mere two weeks later, all is again safe and up to speed quite literally. My lovely little Beetle lives on.

“To

Did manage to capture my favorite gift wrap job from a mucho talented friend.

“To

“To

“To

“To

“To

“To

“To

“To

“To

And I’ve taken some holiday photos for the sharing. Christmas feels like a marathon this year and I’m one pie crust behind. A different kinda tree here, a bit of a Charlie Brown up and off the ground so Julian’s little body can have free reign to move about without fear of a tree mishap, like accidentally donning the thing. He’s not a cat after all (resists temptation to post video of felines harassing holiday foliage).

Speaking of little bodies, I’m an aunt! Sure, I have a little over five months more till we meet, but aunt, I am. Bean calls the baby Button. There’s much speculation over whether Button is a boy or a girl, and I say, “Don’t worry, we’ll ask her when she gets here.” Yes, Bee, Bean and Button.

Still wondering where I belong in the world overall. Thankful for the pockets I fit here and there. Wish I had an everloving clue on where to look and what to seek, cuz it’s getting late(r) in the game, and it’s all going so fast. ♦

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