Yeah, talkative today. I'm kind of hyper - I always get hyper before a Big Weather Event (and I did as a kid, when there was a chance of a S*N*O*W D*A*Y)

Two things:

first, not spam, Lynn. My spam policy is this: if you're a regular commenter or someone I know as a regular reader, and you post a link to something referenced in the post (or even if you're NOT a regular commenter/reader and you post a link like yours) it's not Spam, it's Helping.

It actually would not have occurred to me to go "Hey, I could buy some inexpensive but not-explicitly-sold-for-embroidering-on cotton pillowcases from Amazon or somewhere." Sometimes I have little donut holes in my common sense.

However, if it's someone I DON'T know, and they post a link wildly unrelated to what I have been saying (ESPECIALLY if it's to an online dating site), then it's Spam and I hope the Karma Fairy poops on them.

Anyway.

****

I'm in a fairly good mood right now. And I don't think I'm going to be doing the usual Valentine's Day omphaloskepsis/whining. No, not because I have a new man in my life or anything...I actually figured out my distress with the day:

"Here is a holiday, and yet I cannot find any way to celebrate it that works for how I live. I am left out."

SO I thought: how to make myself feel not-left-out and have some fun with the day? And I remembered the silly little cards - you know, the ones that were common in the 1970s-1980s in grade school? (And earlier, I'm sure, that's just my experience)

You know the ones, with silly puns on them?

Like this?:



Well, it occurred to me that a number of the people I am "friends" with on one of my Ravelry groups are (a) not shy about sharing their mailing address with a relative stranger and (b) like me, unlikely to receive an actual valentine this year. So I made the offer: hey, if you want a silly valentine with a picture of SpongeBob or a duck on it, send me your address and I'll send you one.

I got a nice response. Not an unwieldy one (I was secretly afraid, having made the offer, of being smacked with 100 requests). And you know, it makes me happy...I went out and bought a couple boxes of cards, I have my list of addresses at the ready when it gets a bit closer to the day. I feel like I'm doing something to celebrate the day, and maybe, by being a bit silly and funny and celebrating friendship, I'm kicking a little sand back in the eye of the bully that says ONLY ROMANTIC LOVE MATTERS YOU IDIOT.

And you know? I do have some cards unspoken for. So if you'd like to get a valentine with a fuzzy animal and a bad pun on it, and you're comfortable e-mailing me your address...I'd be happy to send one out. It will give my mailman something to think about.

I don't think I'll quite go ALL the way and buy one of those big cans of "red" flavored Hi-C and cupcakes with pink frosting, like we had at grade school Valentine's parties. But it does make me happy to do a little something to mark the day, a little something to celebrate.

Happy Easter to all who celebrate!

One of my great memories of Easter is the Sunrise Service that used to be held on the village green in the town where I grew up. The town I grew up in was, in some ways, a midwestern town trying to be a Ye Olde New England town (it has to do with the history of the place, so they come about it authentically). Anyway, we had a village green with a bandstand and a clock tower.

And most years, there was an Easter sunrise service. I don't remember if different churches ran it year to year, or if it was just the one my family and I belonged to that did it, or if it was kind of a generalized Protestant Easter service. But I remember it as being very special.

Now, this was northeastern Ohio, so lots of years it was kind of cold Easter morning. I remember some years being a little disappointed about having to wear a heavy coat over my Easter dress (and not knowing what to do with the corsage - many years my dad would by my mom and me orchid corsages to wear on Easter).

But it was still special being outside for the service. Usually it really WAS a Sunrise service, held very early in the morning. (I remember the pattern in my family was that my brother and I were allowed to look at our Easter baskets briefly, but not really dig into them until after we got back from services. And somehow, the Easter bunny always knew to wait to hide the eggs until after we got back...I think it must have happened while my brother and I were standing out on the porch while my dad took pictures of us).

But it was special, standing out in the wet grass, singing the old hymns, hearing the same words I had heard every Easter morning probably since before I was old enough to know what the words meant. And to rejoice again, to feel like the world had been made new again. To sense the sigh of forgiveness again, and to be reminded that everything would, somehow, eventually be OK. That good would triumph over evil, in fact that it had already, evil just didn't know it yet.

It's funny that the really harrowing aspects of Good Friday never really hit me - I never really understood them until I was an adult. Perhaps in a way that was a good thing, to protect me from them when I was young. Of course, with no Good Friday there is no Easter, but I think as a kid I understood Easter better than I did Good Friday.

At some point they stopped doing the sunrise services - I don't know if it was after a couple of years of it being rained out, or if the people who organized it didn't have time to plan it any more, or if too many people complained it was too early (and I still think that was part of the specialness of it), or what - but I still think an Easter service in a church is not quite the same as one outside, in the cool damp of the morning. It somehow made hearing what Mary Magdalene and the other women saw seem more immediate, more vivid.

Most years after the service we'd go home, hunt for the dyed hard boiled eggs (and neither my brother nor I liked hard-boiled eggs. My parents must have been very patient to let us dye a dozen of them, knowing they'd be eating egg salad or eggs cut up on sandwiches for days), look at the stuff in our Easter basket, and then either go out to brunch/lunch somewhere (if we could get reservations far enough in advance) or have something at home (if not, or if we decided we'd rather eat at home that year. I know a lot of years we had the traditional ham on Easter).

Easter candy tended to hang around for a while. Usually the "Peeps" (those marshmallow things - it seems people either love them or loathe them) got eaten first (I love Peeps and always wait for them to arrive in the stores every spring. And yes, I still buy them as an adult) and the chocolate went, but some of the other stuff hung around for a while. And if I was particularly lucky in a given year, I'd get a small stuffed toy rabbit or chicken in the basket. Not always, but it was nice when it happened.

Now as an adult, I go to church. That's the important thing. I didn't have a new dress this year, or an orchid corsage, or an Easter basket for that matter. But that's not what's important - just as now for me Christmas seems to really come during the Christmas Eve service, the important part of Easter is being in the big church and singing the familiar hymns and hearing yet again the words that I have heard, as I said, every year since before I was old enough to know what they meant.

And once again to sigh that sigh - that things WILL ultimately be all right. Maybe not here, maybe not right now. But they will be.

The rest of the day is a fairly quiet day. I'm doing some hand quilting and thinking about sewing the rest of the current quilt top together.

this might be kind of a cute idea, especially if you sang "All of Me, Why not take All of Me" while you delivered them. (That said: the uterus, and whatever that green thing is (gall bladder?) squicks me out a little.)

There's also a pattern for a semi-anatomically correct heart out there as well.

I think I choose to focus on the weird this Valentine's day so as to avoid being poisoned by the Tide of Pink and Flowery.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I hope everyone who celebrates had a wonderful, blessed Christmas full of fun and love.

There have to be robins, for Christmas, because I love the British Christmas traditions:




And I hope "Santa" brought you some of the things on your list.


Victorian clip art courtesy of Averyl's Attic: Averyl's Attic.

It's Christmas Eve!

Best wishes to all of you out there in blogland. If you celebrate Christmas, I hope you get something very nice in your stocking.

And here, following a tradition I've heard about but never experienced, is a bit of the WPIX Yule log:

(Roman mosaic of a menorah; 3rd to 5th century AD)

Happy Chanukah to all of my friends who celebrate it!

And a more modern, and I hope not disrespectful, image:

Another Merry Christmas thing that makes me enormously happy.

I know I post this every year but in a way, I am just decorating my blog for Christmas the way you might decorate a tree.

As I said earlier, Christmas decorations make me the happiest when they are just a wee bit tacky. So here you are:

This is coming to you from the PAST! Through the magic of post-embargoing....this was written before I left town, of course.


1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?

I really don't care. Both have their merits. Bags are nice because you can re-use them if you're careful with them. But it is also nice to have a few gifts where you can tear the paper off and reveal the gift slowly.

2. Real tree or artificial?

My "personal" tree (in my house) is a little artificial tree, but my parents have always had a real one. Even though it sets off everyone's allergies.

3. When do you put up the tree?

My little tree: before Thanksgiving. My parents' tree: we probably haven't done it yet. (My dad always remembers the family tradition from his family of putting the tree up on Christmas Eve - and at that, the kids weren't allowed to participate!)

4. When do you take the tree down?

My little tree gets put away when I get home in early January; usually my parents' tree is before that because I tend to get roped into helping take it down.

5. Do you like eggnog?

Not particularly. I'd rather have a cold glass of milk or a nice cup of cocoa.

6. Favorite gifts received as a child?

A giant handmade Raggedy Ann doll I got when I was about 3 and was told "Mrs. Claus" made just for me. The Fisher-Price castle playset. The Fisher-Price farm. A Noah's Ark set, that I played with for YEARS, that was made by Samsonite, of all people. "Scooter" from the Muppet show.

When I got older? A big big set of colored pencils that I got from my dad one year. I still have them and have used them at times for making hand-drawn graphs.


7. Hardest person to buy for?

Either my dad or my brother.

8. Easiest person to buy for?

My mom, because our tastes are so similar.

9. Do you have a nativity scene?

Personally? Only a tiny one as an ornament on my tree. I have yet to find a Nativity set I like that is within my price range. My parents have an old porcelain one they've had for years.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?

I am a Luddite in this respect. Definite preference for the ink-and-paper, "real" Christmas cards.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?

I don't really have a "worst" but the oddest was one of those little things you carry on your keychain and that is a spring-loaded dealie that will break the glass in the car window if it is an emergency and you're trapped in your car.

I appreciate that the person who gave it to me wants me to be safe, but it just seems like a strange thing to give at Christmas.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie?

This will have to be a list:

It's a Wonderful Life
A Christmas Story
The ORIGINAL Miracle on 34th Street (which is arguably as much a Thanksgiving movie seeing as the Macy's parade is a big part of it)
The Bishop's Wife
The Patrick Stewart version of "A Christmas Carol"
Elf
And I'd also count all of those Rankin-Bass Christmas specials as well.

Oh, and for pure nostalgia: Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. That was actually the first version I ever saw, years and years before I actually read the story.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?

Often in the summer, if I'm traveling somewhere interesting and happen to see something that would be a good gift for someone. I'm actually probably never NOT shopping for Christmas

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?

This year, I was given one of those scented candle things and an exploratory sniff of the wax told me it would set off my allergies, so I passed it on to someone who likes those things. I've done it other times, I once re-gifted a big fancy Christmas themed cookie jar I got at one gift party to someone at another gift party (there was no overlap between the groups so I figured it was OK).

I tend to figure if it's an "anonymous" type gift - where someone is buying blind for someone that might be any member of a group - it's OK to regift it. I'd be more leery of doing it with a gift from a family member.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

This is the only time of the year I will buy those Lindor truffles because they are the only food I don't have sufficient self-control with. I can go through a bag of those in a week; most chocolates will sit for a month or more.

I also enjoy cookies.

And Clementine oranges. I tend to associate them with Christmas because that's when they are most common in the store and when we were kids, my dad used to put them in our stockings, I suppose in memory of his having got oranges when he was little.

Oh, and Stollen, the German Christmas bread. My mom only makes it at Christmas so again, it's one of those enjoy it for a limited time things.


16. Lights on the tree?

My preference is for multicolored. I think that is partly because that's what we had when I was a kid, and partly as a rebellion against all the "tasteful" people who do only plain white lights (and often ONLY plain white lights, no ornaments even). Christmas decorations make me happiest when they're just a wee bit tacky.

17. Favorite Christmas song?

I like a lot of the old traditional British carols like the Sussex carol and the Coventry carol, in part because they haven't been co-opted by advertisers yet. ("Carol of the Bells" has been utterly ruined for me by Garmin. Thanks a lot, Garmin.). The Wassail Song ("God bless you and send you a Happy New Year"). The Christmas Song (the Nat King Cole version, as I noted a month or so ago, is my very favorite).

Also, any of the old Bing Crosby versions of things. And the Gene Autry version of both Rudolph and "Santa Claus is Coming To Town." I can hear that and be transported back to age 6 again, and I mean that in a good way.

And the soundtrack to the Charlie Brown Christmas special never fails to put me in a good mood. (Oh, and maybe this time next year, I'll be able to play "Linus and Lucy" on the piano!)

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?

Three weeks break, plus family living far away - you do the math.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?

Yes, and I maintain that the correct name of Reindeer #7 is "Donder" (German for "thunder") and NOT "Donner."

20. Angel on the tree top or a star?

A small crocheted angel on my tree; a vintage angel (it came from my dad's parents') on my parents' tree. (In fact - and this is perhaps where I am overly observant of things - if you look VERY closely in the scene of "The Bishop's Wife" where Dudley and Julia are in the Professor's little apartment, and he has a tree up - the angel on the tree, as best I can tell, is the SAME style as what my dad has from his parents. The movie was made in '47 so that seems reasonable.)

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?

We've always done Christmas morning in my family. I don't think Christmas Eve would feel quite right at this point (not to mention we are usually busy with church services Christmas Eve night).

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?

People who complain about "having" to buy presents for people they "hate." Kind of sucks the fun out of it, to be roaming the Target looking for last minute stuff and having to hear someone rant about it. (And may I suggest: if they are such a burden to buy gifts for, either suggest ending the gift exchange or buy a gift card for them?).

People who are in general crabs or wet-blankets about things. I've heard it all, from the plaints of over-commercialism (which is probably the one I'd be most amenable to listen to), to the people who say it's unfair to those who follow different faith paths, to the people who say "in this bad economy" or "with a war on" it is wrong to celebrate (they don't know their history too well, methinks), those who endlessly natter about the calories and fat in all the tasty foods (YOU don't need to eat them, you know, but please let those of us who would indulge enjoy it). Even people arguing we should not celebrate because Jesus was not actually literally born on the 25th of December, but sometime in the spring instead, and that this is just an old Catholic papering-over of a pagan celebration.

And meh. I like to take my happiness where I find it, and I prefer it unalloyed with guilt or fear or whatever else people may try to inject into it.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color?

Whatever I (or My Family) Likes. That's pretty much the theme for the family tree - some glass balls, some stars, some angels, some old, old ornaments from when I was a child, some newer ornaments people have given as gifts over the years. Just a big mix but that is what everyone in my family likes, it is what makes us happy.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?

Recently, we have had standing rib roast (the ONLY time I get it in a year), Yorkshire pudding (ditto), various vegetable dishes, and my mom's good green-tomato mincemeat pie.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year?

The tangible things: some books I haven't read, perhaps some new clothes, craft supplies. Good tea, good soap, chocolate, maybe some kind of small toy (I still like getting some kind of a toy at Christmas). Maybe a dvd of a movie or television show I love. My wants are pretty simple.

The intangible: a year of good health and happiness for those I love, time to do the things I want to do, the ability to winnow out criticism that will improve me from criticism that is trying to "put me in my place," the ability to disregard the rude or unfounded things people say to me when they are lashing out because of something bad in THEIR lives or because they are simply being mean, to stop worrying so much about what people think of me.

I sent my Christmas cards yesterday (though I see now, looking at the church directory, there are probably a couple more I should send).

I still do this. Even though it sometimes seems like a custom leftover from another era - I know people who send exclusively e-cards, either because (a) it's easier, (b) it's cheaper, or (c) it's more "environmentally friendly" because there's no paper, no stuff having to be carried on a mail truck (though I would argue that the ads from "instant credit" places* and flooring stores that I get burn through far more fossil fuels than the cards I get and send, on sheer volume alone)

(*"Mr. Burns: Oh, it's a hobby. I'm not in this for any personal gain, heavens no! By the way, are you acquainted with our state's stringent usury laws?
Homer: Us-ury?
Mr. Burns: Oh, silly me! I must have just made up a word that doesn't exist. Now, what is the purpose of this loan?")

But I like sending cards, probably because I enjoy getting them.

So I send them out every year. I don't send a lot, my list varies somewhere in the vicinity of 20 to 30 cards.

I remember when I was a young teenager, my mom would hire me to type the address labels for the cards. It took forever (though that was good; more funds to buy Christmas presents). I think there were something like 150 names on her list at that time (she's since pared it back). I learned the conventions of etiquette for addressing things that way; that you addressed (at least in those days) cards to couples as "Mr. and Mrs. Hisfirstname Hislastname" and widows as "Mrs. Herfirstname Hislastname" and families as "The Lastname Family." Single people were either Mr. Hisname or Miss Hername. (Yes, we used Miss back in those days).

Oh, she had a few nonconformist friends where the woman kept her maiden name, or where the kids had a different surname from the couple (usually second marriages). So there were some special notations in the address book to follow.

(Nowadays, I'm less formal. I usually use "The Lastname Family" if it is a couple with children yet at home; otherwise, I use "Hisname and Hername Lastname" for couples. And no, I don't currently have any "Hisname and Hisname" or "Hername and Hername" couples on the list. Not sure what I would have made of those when I was 11 and typing out address labels).

Then, once the envelopes were ready, she would sit down with the cards and painstakingly write a message on each one. (Yes. She would handwrite notes for most of the 150 or so cards. Now they use one of those much-maligned newsletter things, but back in the day, she wrote out every single darn card).

And then, if I wanted to earn another buck or two, I sat next to her with the envelopes, and the stamps, and one of those office-supply squeeze bottles full of water (so I didn't have to lick the envelopes) and I'd put the card in its appropriate envelope, seal it up, apply the stamp and return-address label.

And then she would take them down to the post office - arranged in numerical order of ZIP code. (something I still do today). And they'd go off to their destinations.

And we'd start receiving cards. Usually she had a big basket we put them in; I keep thinking for the cards I receive I should string up a line like I've seen some people do and peg them on it (I think that looks kind of neat and nostalgic) but I don't ever seem to get around to it.

After Christmas, the nicer cards we'd cut up to use as gift tags for the next year, or even in some cases to use as tree ornaments. And she'd update her book with any new return addresses, or make changes happy (a couple going to "The Lastname Family" status thanks to the birth of their first child) or sad (removing people from the list who died, or splitting couples into two separate addresses in the case of divorce).

And it was a big ritual for the year, and sometimes when I was a teenager, it seemed kind of unnecessary to me.

But I do it now. I don't have nearly as many contacts as my mom had - a few people from grad school I still communicate with, family, friends who have moved away. Most of my list is people from my own church (I like to send cards to everyone who prepared supper for the Youth Group over the year and thank them).

A lot of the people from my past have kind of fallen away - we both moved in the same year and addresses got lost, or maybe they pruned me off their list, or something. It makes me a little sad that my mom still sends cards to people she has known literally since she was 10, and I have almost no one (unless you count relatives and one set of longtime family friends) like that.

It's also sad - this year I had to take a few people off my list because they passed on. (I did send a card to the adult daughter of my aunt - she lived with my aunt and helped her during her last years, and is still living in her house. I didn't put "Merry Christmas" on it but I did put "Thinking of you this Christmas season." Because I think it's still awfully soon to have lost someone that important to you and that much of your life, and have people wishing you a merry Christmas).

But I also added a few people. And maybe that's what you count as a win in this life: if your Christmas card list remains the same size or even grows in a year.

Choosing the cards is an important issue too. I do not like tacky-looking cards, cards that look like you were out at the Menards'* buying spigot covers or ant poison and you happened to remember you needed cards, so you grabbed the first thing off the display of boxes.

And there are an awful lot of tacky cards out there. I know, I rejected a lot of them as my Christmas cards for this year.

(*a chain we do not actually have around here)

I finally chose ones of a Victorian snow scene, with glitter on it. (No, glitter is NOT tacky. Hush up.) It didn't have a dumb poem on the inside (I hate sending cards with dumb poems in them, the sort of treacly sentiment forced into a meter and rhyme-scheme). And they mentioned "Christmas" by name.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It's really not a militant Christian thing. It's a hatred-of-genericization thing. Where all holidays become "Happy Season" and there's a lot of hand-waving and eliding and not-mentioning. And while that's fine for the public sphere, in my own private celebration, I want my cards to be specific.

If I have a friend or relative who does not celebrate Christmas, I will find a special appropriate card for them, and I will pick that appropriate card for them - whether it be a Chanukah card, or a Yule/Solstice card (I have known people who had faith paths where they celebrated the Winter Solstice instead of Christmas), or a Happy New Year card.

So anyway. I don't do the "newsletter" thing; most of the people I send cards to know pretty well what I've been doing over the past year. In that case, I just write a short message and sign my name. For the people further away - the old grad-school friends get a rundown of research and stuff like that from the past year; relatives may get more detail of other things going on in my life. I like being able to tailor the notes to each person. (And I think since I'm clearly handwriting them, I can be forgiven for being briefer than a person writing a general newsletter would be).

I did the cards while proctoring my general Bio exam yesterday: class of 7 where they all spontaneously sit far apart from each other and I can clearly see each person from the front of the room, so I can tell there's no cheating going on. (Today's exam is a full class in a packed room, so I'm trying to figure out what kind of low-concentration knitting where I can tuck the ball of yarn under my arm as I work and roam about the room will work. Possibly the Cobblestone pullover, though with alternating balls of yarn, it's harder to tuck them up in your armpit).

So after that, I ran over to the post office (for once, no line!) and got stamps (and yes, I got the special Christmas stamps), and stamped all the addressed cards, and tossed the half that are for my friends in-town into the "Durant Mail Only" slot, and the half for friends and relatives out of town into the "out of town mail" slot.

So, another step towards Christmas is completed.

****

Saw this on the Craft blog: Tuxedo sweater for a baby. Alas, I know of no one with a male child on the way that would appreciate this. I don't know if it's too crazy-cat-lady to consider making one of the smaller sizes to put on one of my teddy bears or the largish stuffed toy cat I have.

In Japan, even the food is cute:



This is a little knitted onigiri (rice ball with nori seaweed - that's what the black strip where the "face" is is). It's from a free pattern here.

It's very fast to knit up - most of the knitting on this I did Sunday night while watching "The Bishop's Wife" (which is fast becoming one of my favorite Christmas movies*)

This is perhaps a slight imposter (odd, Firefox treats that as a misspelled word) as rice balls go...it's mainly knit of a soy yarn. I used Paton's SWS for the main body and a bit of wool-ease for the nori strip.

I had originally wanted to fill it with those plastic pellet things but I couldn't find the bag I thought I had, so I just went ahead and stuffed it. I think a set of three of these, maybe with a few pellets for weight, would make a fun juggling set.


(*Heck, I have a LOT of "favorite" Christmas-themed movies: "It's a Wonderful Life" (of course), "The Bishop's Wife," "Miracle on 34th Street" (but I will grumpily observe I prefer the non-colorized version of the original), "A Christmas Story," "Elf" (which is newer but is very cute and funny and has what I think is a surprisingly acynical message for a modern comedy), the various versions of "A Christmas Carol" (though of late I prefer the version with Patrick Stewart as Scrooge), and even "Scrooged" which is silly and a little cringe-y in places but it also has Bill Murray...)

And I also finished the funny little thing that I happened to think of yesterday afternoon. It is a very simple modification of the onigiri pattern, but it has some seasonal appeal.

Meet "Nat":



Nat is, in case it's not clear, a chestnut.

(Why name the chestnut Nat? This is why, in case your mind doesn't make the odd connections mine does:



(And that counts as my Christmas link for today! And this is one of my favorite of the "secular" Christmas songs.)

I suppose I could have just as justifiably (and perhaps some would argue with more justification) named the chestnut Mel, as he is the one who actually wrote the song:



However, for me at least, Nat King Cole "owns" The Christmas Song. (And, I have to admit, I like Cole's voice better than Torme's.)

I found the energy to do some stuff this weekend.

First, I got the daffodil and crocus bulbs in the ground. I had been concerned about this, that it would get too late and be too cold to plant them. (I find I worry almost as much about not getting this kind of thing done as I worry about work.)

I had a 25-bulb "bargain bag" of mixed daffodils. (I think it was a "bargain bag" because most of them had secondary bulbs growing off the main bulb. I divided a few of the larger ones but left most intact). It will be interesting next spring to see what I got - I tend to like "grab bags" like that where you don't know exactly what you're getting. I also planted 15 "tete-a-tete" variety daffodils, which are a smaller variety. And a bunch of crocus.

I also took the time to drain and put up the hoses and to put the winter covers over the spigots as we were supposed to get a hard freeze last night (I don't think we actually did).

Then today, after church, I made a batch of split-pea soup (why didn't anyone tell me how EASY split pea soup is to make? Unlike typical bean soup, you don't have to do the boil-then-rinse and let-sit process. It does take about an hour to make split pea soup but the vast majority of that is unattended cooking time). So I have soup in my fridge for the rest of the week. I used to hate leftovers but I find as I've gotten busier, I'd rather do my cooking on the weekend and then eat leftovers the rest of the week than stress about how I'll find a half-hour to cook something during the week.

I also found the energy to put up my Christmas decorations. I put on the "holiday music" channel on the digital cable - it's kind of Christmas at Motown day, which actually I think is preferable for me right now than listening to the old familiar CDs I have...it was one of those that set me off the other night. (I did sniffle a little when "The Christmas Song" came on...you know, the one about the chestnuts roasting on an open fire). It may just take a little while yet.

I started with the mantel. I hadn't cleared the decorations I put up back in spring off yet, so this was a big change from what it had been.






These little glasses are new to me; they were an antique store purchase. I just liked them; I wasn't thinking about decorating with them for Christmas at the time. (They have gold pine cones and sort of blue-green pine boughs on them; I realize now they don't show up that well in the photo).

I also dug out all my different Christmas-themed pillows and pillow-like objects.



These "flatsy" dolls - this is Paddington bear and a little Scots girl with her dog, all dressed up for Christmas - are sort of representative of a type of toy that was very common when I was a child. You could buy them in any fabric store, sew them together and stuff them. I know I had a pink cat named Charlie, and a blue teddy bear, and a giraffe I called George (I still have George; he's in the bedroom I sleep in when I visit my parents). It's funny - when I was a tiny child I loved these things, but as I got older I kind of rejected them because, well, they're flat - the perspective is kind of funny sometimes (George's legs, I remember...the "off side" legs looked very funny because they were behind the "front side" legs). But now I kind of like them again; they ALMOST qualify as pillows but they are still teddy bears or toys or whatever.

I think they still sell some of these kind of flat printed toys in the fabric stores but I've not looked recently.

They also used to make these a lot as advertising promotions. I had a Tony the Tiger doll that my mom sent away for (I remember loving that Tony the Tiger when I was about 4; he was the toy I took with me when my family went on trips). And I had a Green Giant. And there were lots and lots of others made over the years, starting many many years ago (I think there are some of those toys that were made in the 1920s and before).

And I decorated the tree. I tend to believe that if some is good, too much is even better when it comes to things like this. So I put on most of the decorations I have.



Most of them are the standard glass balls and bells (most of which are made in Mexico, now, it seems, judging from the packages. Or maybe that's just where I live.)

I also have some more whimsical things on the tree.


I've had this Snoopy ornament a long time; I think it came off a box of Whitman's chocolate.


I also have Hello Kitty on the tree. Yes, Hello Kitty. Yes, I know she has even less of a connection to Christmas than Snoopy but then again, Christmas trees aren't exactly out of the Bible, you know? Besides, I like her. She amuses me.



I also lined up some of the critters under the tree. You can see that Rupert is making an appearance again. Hi, Rupert!


Some of my surprisingly-large collection of bears. The bear in the green sweater is a souvenir of Aer Lingus (the Irish airline); my mother bought it for me a couple years ago when they went to Britain.


I also got the binding put on the fall-foliage themed quilt:




I used the same fabric to bind it that I used as the inner border. I didn't think I'd have enough, but I did, and I'm glad because I think it's the best looking binding. (The other option was to use some of the yellow left from the block background, but I don't think that would have looked as good).

Today is also Fat Tuesday. Or as I knew it better growing up, Pancake Day. Or Paczki day (Paczki, usually pronounced "pooch-key," are a type of Polish donut).

I could go for a donut this morning (even though I've been on an eating-healthier kick).

The idea behind the pancakes (which are typically an Episcopalian/Anglican/British thing) and the paczki are the using-up of eggs, rich milk, and butter, before the abstinence of Lent.

Yeah, Lent kind of sneaked up on me this year. I don't have any plans in mind for some kind of deep reflective thing or some kind of faith-testing thing. I'm thinking maybe what I NEED to do is work on being less hard on myself, though my inner critic says that's just being self-indulgent.

(So maybe I DO need to work on it.)

But I really COULD go for a donut, or some pancakes, or something like that. Or a piece of King Cake, which I normally don't care too much for, because the typical King Cakes you get around here from the supermarket are just their typical blah white-bread dough with some sugar added to it.

The local Episcopalian church is doing a pancake day, but this is going to be a busy busy day (2 meetings on top of the usual class work), so I don't imagine I'll be able to get away. And I have to find time sometime to get to the grocery as I am nearly out of milk and orange juice. (Maybe they'll have something good, I don't know).

Diann: your letter is "J".
****

And here are a couple of "Wednesday 'Whaaat?'" items:

First:



Regia yarn is "dimensionally stable." Which is great, because I know I hate it when my projects go blipping off to the 8th dimension or somewhere.

(What do they really mean? Is this some kind of "It won't stretch out of shape" statement?)

And second:



When stickers get stuck in the 1970s! It's a pig! With a heart! With a rainbow! And a sweater made out of rainbows! ("Imagi-NATION!" says SpongeBob)

This was on a valentine's box (fig cookies) from my mom. I'm not sure if she intended the sticker ironically or not.

Which actually, that provides me with a little bit of a segue (and that is the correct spelling. It is not, dear goodness, "segway," as I have seen some type it.)

Valentine's Day. I think I pinpointed some of my frustration with what the holiday has become.

One of the local news-bunnies, this morning, said in a very pettish childish voice, "I'm still WAITING on my flowers!" You silly old trout - for one thing, it's six freaking thirty in the morning. I realize you were trying to be funny, but taking that kind of tone - which I would consider childish coming from a six year old - just set my teeth on edge.

And it made me realize: the whole day has turned into a minefield. There's tremendous pressure to find the 'right' gift, and the implication is that it's PERFECTLY OKAY to be ungrateful and even offended if your "beloved" doesn't pick out the exact thing your heart desires. Women are allowed - and even encouraged - to behave like six year olds if they don't get flowers or jewelry or who knows what.

(And I will leave it to others to draw the feminist implications of women being encouraged to act like spoiled children.)

And that's just not fair. Especially because the other implication seems to be "If he REALLY loved you, he'd be able to read your mind and get exactly what you want."

And there's really no attention given to the other side of the equation - it's not at all clear to me if it's understood you will buy a gift for your man (provided you have one), or if there's some other kind of, ahem, return that's expected.

There's also the issue that there seems to be an escalation in money spent - while I haven't seen car ads suggesting you buy your love a car for V-Day, I'm sure they are coming.

And it all makes me want to do the headdesk thing. How did we get from, say, third grade in 1978, where we made shoeboxes and got little paper cards with Mickey Mouse or Superman on them, and drank red Hi-C punch, and ate cupcakes with pink frosting, to "I'm still WAITING on my flowers!" and "She'll think you spent weeks planning it, when it's really just a mouseclick away."

I don't know. We seem to be awfully good at screwing up gift-giving occasions in this society, in either allowing Madison Avenue to take over and ramp up the expectations to the "unrealistic" level, or to expect whatever sorry little gift* to make up for a world of inattention, missed communication, and lack of loving behavior the rest of the year.

(*And I maintain: if you have not love, a $25,000 diamond necklace is NOT compensation. If you are rude or dismissive or take the person you love for granted, there is no thing you could buy that will compensate for that. And on the flip side: if you do have love, if you make an effort to be kind and to listen and to thank the person when they go above-and-beyond, no gift is really necessary, I think, other than more of the same.)

But what do I know? I'm always on the outside looking in on these things. Maybe everyone's perfectly happy playing a part in what looks to me like a big mash-up of deception and quid pro quo. If that's the truth, then I don't feel so bad about not being part of a couple.

Still - it would be kind of nice to have a cupcake with pink frosting on it. And maybe even a silly card with Pooh Bear on it that said something like "Bee my Honey."

****

And it is still my birthday month. In less than two weeks, I am considered a year older.

And I found this on another site. Usually I kind of roll my eyes at Ogden Nash - he's too flip, his verse seems tossed off in a lot of cases - but this one very nearly had me crying at the end:

A Lady Who Thinks She is Thirty

Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.

Miranda in Miranda’s sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.

Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.

Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.

Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What’s a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?

Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then—
How old is Spring, Miranda?

--Ogden Nash