Is Kelly Lucky Or What (Especially At Christmas)

We were married on New Year’s Day, a Monday, a new beginning in many ways. Since then, I’ve described myself as the luckiest man on earth, and that remains true.

 

I am lucky to have Kelly, but here’s a modest reminder of how lucky she is to have me, a man who likes having someone to do things for.

 

 

One night, after a long day of shopping the flea markets, she set up this lovely display of her plates on our bedroom wall. She was unhappy to leave “a hole” where one more plate should go, but she was nearly falling over for want of sleep. I’ve lived with her long enough to know that once she gets to that point, she is useless for anything but sleep. As I tucked her in, she whispered, “If you loved me you would put up one more plate….” And then she was out.

I figured it couldn’t be that hard. Kelly had put up 11 plates already, and only broke two, so I could probably manage. But she was out of plates, and out of the wire racks to hang one with. So I did the next best thing, what any man in love would do to prove his devotion. I went downstairs to the cupboard and found the exactly right shaped and patterned paper plate to fill in for the time being, until we could make another trip to the thrift stores.

 

When Kelly awoke the next morning, she noticed the plate first thing, and showered me with affection. She was so excited, so pleased, that she took photos to share with her friends in Blogland. She is still so happy with my act of kindness, these many months later, that she refuses my offer to put up a real plate in place of the paper one. She's sentimental that way.

 

While installing Christmas decorations a few weeks ago, we found a small pink tree that our daughter Carrie left behind. With her permission, I set it up for Kelly in our sitting room, because I know she loves pink Christmas trees and I know how much she loves the twinkle lights. Few things bring Kelly as much joy as sock monkeys, so I thought “what better for this little tree than her favorite sock monkey,” this pink little guy with the big smile. Kelly came in and saw the tree, then saw the toy on top, and she squealed with delight. More kisses came my way, I’ll tell you that.

 

Kelly’s new favorite place to sit is right under this tree, with the monkey man watching. While there has been talk of having to take down all the trees and decorations in the rest of the house here in a couple of days, she has not mentioned taking down the pink tree. It just means too much to her. She's sentimental that way.

 

On the porch, we have a white tree, another flea market find, which Kelly says she has always wanted. The ornaments are all pretty, but they are plastic, because they are exposed to the sun and wind and rain. The topper on this tree, a colorful keepsake from one of our many trips to Wendy’s, a family favorite, has become a tradition for us, and a reminder of what really matters.

 

This disposable display is highlighted by a used paper cup. The neighbors might call it trash, but to us it represents the true meaning of holiday celebrations. Ultimately, everything we have is disposable, and all the gifts and foods and trappings of Christmas mean little. Some people may have a perfect Martha Stewart magazine-cover Christmas, but neglect each other. What matters, what really lasts, is our family, each person, each individual. The love and kindness that we share, the bonds we form that will never be broken, that is what Christmas really means, and the humble little tree on our humble little porch helps us to never forget.

 

Here, Aubrey shows that she has learned the lesson, too. Awwww….

 

So I ask you. Is Kelly lucky or what?

Enough Already With The Ancient Christmas Carols

 

One drudgery of Christmas season – which, as you know, is much, much too long, starting in mid-October – is the tired old Christmas carols the stores insist on playing. Perhaps they assume it makes people more, what, festive, to hear those sleigh bells in the snow, but mostly it just annoys people.

We need some new Christmas music, not just more tedious remakes by whatever singers happen to be popular today.

Every year I try to buy one or two Christmas CDs, or downloads the past two years, hopeful that the new recordings will make a difference, but generally they do not. This year was an exception, as I came across some pretty good music, and added two songs to my favorites list.

First was Christmas Cello by Steven Sharp Nelson, aka one of The Piano Guys. The entire set is wonderful, perfect for decorating the tree, as we did (at least one of our trees), or for just having as background while reading, or talking, or doing dishes. My favorite is Simple Gifts, which is simply beautiful.

Next was Christmas Island by the one and only LeonRedbone. The title track is excellent, but my favorite, barely beating out That Old Christmas Moon, is Christmas Ball Blues. Great for dancing in the kitchen with the one you love, and if you ender up under the mistletoe, even better.

So here’s my updated list of Five Favorite Christmas Songs, with a tie for the bottom spot:

 

1. Merry Christmas Baby, Elvis Presley (another great one for dancing in the kitchen, when the kids aren’t home)
2. You’re All I Want For Christmas, Brook Benton
3. Baby, It’s Cold Outside, Brian Setzer and Ann-Margret (although the Ann-Margret Al Hirt version is much more sensual)
   
4. Christmas Ball Blues, Leon Redbone
5. Christmas Wish, She & Him
   Simple Gifts, Steven Sharp Nelson

What are your favorites?

White Christmas Is A Scam

WARNING! FRAUD ALERT! If you are about to snuggle up in front of the DVD player to watch WhiteChristmas, be warned that it is not a Christmas movie. Except for the opening minutes where Bing Crosby sings the song, and then, of course, the closing minutes where the women in those beautiful red robes join in the singing, there is no mention of Christmas. None. The plot has nothing to do with Christmas. The story line is not about Christmas. Except for one brief mention of doing their show on Christmas Eve, NO ONE SAYS A WORD ABOUT CHRISTMAS in the entire movie. It’s a scam.

These movies are more about Christmas than White Christmas because they mention Christmas or have more Christmas decorations in them:

Die Hard

Lethal Weapon

Dirty Harry

Gremlins

Trading Places

Goodfellas

When Harry Met Sally

Edward Scissorhands

Brazil

Batman Returns

The Godfather for Pete’s sake.

Or even Life Of Brian.

I’m not saying White Christmas is not a good movie. I’m just asking you to not be fooled. Watch Crosby sing White Christmas on YouTube if you must, but then go watch a real Christmas movie, like Steve Martin in Mixed Nuts. You’ll thank me for it. Ho ho ho.

Another Christmas Tree For My Brother's Birthday

 

Today is my older brother’s birthday, which has many fond memories because December 17 was the day our mother finally let us put up the Christmas tree. It never crossed my mind that Gary Jo  might have thought he was cheated, having a birthday so close to, you know, the BIG holiday, and having his party overshadowed by trimming the tree. If it bothered him, I never knew it.

Nor would I have cared, because getting the tree and decorating it was a BIG deal at our house, and we waited for it for months. Four of the six of us shared one big room, half of our basement, and we used to count down the last 65 days until Christmas. And before that, we would count down the days until October 22, when we could start counting down.

As the 17th approached, one of us would get to ride along with dad to Heck’s IGA, where they had a rack of bundled trees leaning up against the building every year. Dad would carefully check each one to get the one that seemed just right, and he always did get it right. We never had a bad tree.

One year, when I was 12, dad let me pick the tree, and it was a thrilling and terrible responsibility. He never minded the mess of needles and sap. He loved the smell and the texture. Our decorations were simple: bright red and blue and green and white and yellow lights as big as his thumb, hand-glittered glass ornaments, and 20 boxes of tensel, placed carefully and evenly, one strand at a time.

Every tree we had growing up was fabulous, but no matter how fabulous, my mom had them down and out on the trash heap by noon, December 26.

 

 

Now, on the other hand, we feel bad taking any of our seven trees down before February, and I admit there was at least one year it was still up on April Fool’s Day. This year, so far, anyway, we have a white tree on the porch, the big green tree in the living room, another white tree in the dinning room, a silver tree in the baking kitchen, a pink tree in our bedroom, a mulit-colored tree in Libby's room and another silver one in Aubrey's room. The other green tree, we gave to Lydia for her new house. That's normal. Right?

 

 

Kelly Is Going To Kill Me When She Wakes Up In The Morning

 

I couldn't help myself, her pie is that good.

Walmart: The True Meaning Behind Thanksgiving

We didn’t shop on Thanksgiving, not wanting to be responsible for anyone having to work who would rather be home with family.

Nor did we shop on Black Friday, or Moron Day, as I like to call it, not wanting to be out with the crazy people, like those who stood in line with more than 500 other, um, shoppers, waiting to get into Toys R Us.

 

But we did shop for groceries on Wednesday, thick in the swarm of last-minute  food buyers looking for that last treat or two to top off their Turkey Day celebration. For us, grocery shopping almost always means Walmart. Here are some thoughts on my time in the store.

Those handful of people complaining so loudly that Walmart was out of big turkeys by 3 pm on Wednesday really don’t have anything to gripe about. It’s not like they didn’t know Thanksgiving was coming up.

You can buy turkey seasoning that comes with a hypodermic needle and syringe that lets you inject the stuff (ha ha) right into the bird. Doesn’t that seem wrong, somehow?

 

 

All of the frozen desert bins were hit hard, with lots of empty shelf space and very few of the really good pies left. Across the aisle, the so-called healthy frozen dinners-Smart Ones, Healthy Choice-had not been touched. Throughout the frozen entre section, most still looked fully stocked, except for the turkey dinners, which were mostly gone, too.

I made the assumption that anyone eating a frozen TV turkey dinner was likely alone for Thanksgiving. Is that a fair conclusion? It made me sad that so many people had nowhere better to go for the holiday than to the freezer for a Stouffer’s dinner.

Even turkey pot pies were nearly sold out, not just the Marie Callender’s, which are pretty good, but also the 88-cent Banquet pies. That really made me sad and kinda lonely as I pictured some elderly woman all on her own, again, or some college freshman, far from home and all by himself for the first time.

Then I realized that I was wrong. They may have been alone, but at least they had something. Even a cheap pot pie alone is better than nothing. It wasn’t that many years ago, alone in an empty duplex in some strange town, that all I had for Thanksgiving was generic grape jelly and a long, long weekend.

 

I’m thankful that has changed, and wish everyone had it as good as I do.

 

____

Images swiped from here, here, here, and here.

 

 

Say Trick Or Treat, Say Thank You

 

The first time I took a child out trick or treating on Halloween, Thriller was the top album,  ET was the big movie, and Commodore 64 was the hot, new computer. John Belushi and Grace Kelly were both alive, and the Cardinals had just won the World Series. I’ve done it and loved it every year since, rain or shine, warm or cold, one kid or seven.

 

 

I thought I would miss it last night, not going out with a costumed kiddie, but we had too much fun to notice. I missed the kids, yes, a lot, and I miss the grandkids, but I didn’t miss carrying the toddlers and wheeling them in the stroller and worrying about traffic and standing on the sidewalk and reminding them to say “trick or treat” and “thank you.” I enjoyed all that, and am grateful for all those years of fun, and I miss the kids – did I mention that? - but I didn’t miss it. I watched the parents as they came to our door, and I have to say it is fun from the front, too.

 

 

 

Kelly and I were thrilled watching the wide-eyed little ones walk up, the pirates and soldiers and princesses and witches and super heroes, that one kid dressed up like a police call box, so happy, so excited, so filled with wonder at what was happening.

 

We live in a neighborhood that dresses up for Halloween. People come from all over town, even from nearby towns, to see it all, to be part of it. We usually have around 1,200 goblins come to our door. That may seem like a typo, but it’s not. From 4:30 to 9:30 last night, we gave away 44 pounds of candy. It is common to have 20 or more children lined up on our sidewalk, hour after hour, and the fun doesn’t stop.

 

 

Kelly always puts out a nice spread for the friends who come over before the door-to-door action.

 

She always decorates inside the house, subtle touches of holiday made personal for and to our family. I like that about her.

 

It doesn't look like much, 44 pounds of candy, but it sure was popular. Some people in the neighborhood give out full-sized Snickers bars. We aren't one of those families. But we have tableclothes for every holiday, every occassion. I like that.

 

I decorate the outside of the house, based on a photo Kelly found in one of her many holiday magazines.

 

The calm before the stampede: the Purple English Teacher waiting to pass out the goodies. She said "great costume" and "happy Halloween" so much last night that she woke up hoarse.

 

 

Part of the queue. It is like this at every house, up and down the street. Fun, fun, fun. 

 

One of the parents said that she got married in our house, 26 years ago. We invited her in, with part of her her large family, and she seemed very pleased. We took pictures of her behind our stair rail, just as she stood back in 1986. That was cool.

 

Our windows always get a lot of attention, and a lot of favorable comments, another idea from one of Kelly's holiday magazines. One woman said she has a photo of our house on her Facebook opening page. That seems weird.

You Gotta Love Halloween, Even Though The Grandkiddies And Most Of The Kids Are A Thousand Miles Away

 

I love Halloween, and some of the girls have had a chance to celebrate earlier in the week. Here are photos, starting with Brianne and Callie (I think, anyway), dressed up for a pre-holiday party. Everyone was thrillered. Ha ha....

Lucy got two costumes, both adorable, a baterina and Hello Kitty, only cuter. Kelly made this one.

 

Baby Aspen in her Halloween jammies. Let's hope she is more alert tonight.

 

 

 

This just in: our little Sadie, cute as can be. She reminds me of that old saying, "I can't wait until tomorrow, because you get cuter every day." Am I right? 



 

Of course, here's me with my very own Purple English Teacher, heading off to class. Of course, she gets cuter every day, too. Woo hoo!

 

Am I lucky or what. Everybody have a fun, safe night.

Presidential Issue 4: Holiday Decorations In Stores Months Before The Holiday

 

“Retailers are rolling out aggressive sales earlier this holiday season to lure consumers,” reports The Washington Post. It gets worse every year, and we need a president who will finally do something about it. I didn’t hear it mentioned in the debate last night. Did you?

 

In mid-August, all we should see in stores is back-to-school supplies, not Halloween candy, and certainly not Christmas decorations. But by early September we could buy candy corn and costumes, and by late September, yet again, there were plastic holly and twinkle lights and shiny plastic ornaments up and down the aisles. Which means that awful music won’t be far behind. In fact, one of my children is already listening to it on the radio.

 

This is too soon, too soon. No wonder we are all so sick of any holiday by the time the big day arrives.

I’m not saying it’s your fault, but according to the National Retail Federation,  it is, because 20 percent – one in five of you – have already started shopping. Shame, shame, shame. There are even houses with Christmas lights up already.

The least you can do is vote for a presidential candidate who will take action to stop this madness.

Move Over, Dickens, Seuss, And O’Henry, There’s A New Holiday Classic In Town

 

If they can put Christmas decorations in the stores in September, then surely it isn’t too early to recommend a Christmas book. Christopher Moore's The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror is an original, a great read, imaginative and funny.

 

The story begins in sunny, warm California, the traditional setting for Christmas action. A little boy, shortcutting home through a stand of pine trees, sees an unhappy wife smack her husband, dressed as Santa, in the head with a shovel. Afraid to tell anyone, and afraid that Christmas is ruined, the boy is visited by the Archangel Raziel, sent to Earth following a string of botched assignments.

 

That’s enough set up. You will want to read it straight through, it is that good. I guarantee you will laugh, too. Ho ho ho.


Note: I just learned that The Stupidest Angel is available as a Kindle book for $1.99. Now there's a deal.

John Moe May Never Understand But The Star -Spangled Banner Moves Me

Like you, I like my country. I actually do pledge allegiance to the flag, because those words mean something to me. So does the national anthem.

I’ve volunteered at our local minor league baseball stadium this summer, working the concessions stands. We are swamped when the gates open at 6, but everything stops when that song starts at 7:05. I love to watch the crowd standing so still, many with hands across their hearts, mouthing the words, heads turned toward center field. Even the kids pay attention.

The volunteer singers always do an excellent job with the difficult tune, and I love how the power of the words and the emotion of the voices always wash over me. “… oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave….”

Self-proclaimed liberals like John Moe may mock, deride, but the event always moves me. Perhaps we seem less indivisible these days, polarized by the press into red states and blue states, but I say we are united still. Our real differences are more minor than major. One trip to the ball park proves it.

Happy Kids Day

How many times have you heard this:

“Mom, Dad, if we have Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, when is Kids Day?”

Well, at our house, it’s today, Friday the 13^th.

With children all over the country, getting them all in the same
room at the same time is a challenge. Libby is missing from
the top photo, and Lydia is missing from this one. Two of
the grandchildren are missing, too.

Years ago, I figured why not have a day to show appreciation for the kids, and why not make it on a day that used to represent something unpleasant.

We mostly do small things, like a Kids Day Cake, or a Kids Day trip to the grocery store to let each of them buy their own box of favorite cereal. A couple of times there have been Kids Day movies or trips to the park or the ice cream place, or small gifts, maybe hair pretties or a pair of socks.

These days, with everyone so spread out, and half of them with kids of their own, Kids Day is mostly a text message from me, but we try to do something with the girls still at home.

Do any of you have similar traditions?

_____

So I got this photo from Jessica on Friday night, with 75 percent of our grandchildren enjoying a Kids Day cupcake. Hi girls!