When I was a little girl, my favorite Christmas present was a big old baby stroller, quilted blue, a flat canopy trimmed with white fuzzy pom-poms, similar to the one in this picture. Beautiful! But the best part of the stroller was that—oh, sit down for this--was that it was a DOUBLE stroller, room for one baby facing forward, the other backward. A feature like that that could make a little pretend mommy dizzy with strolling dreams!
That memory makes me smile because I realize that my deeper desire, beyond taking two baby dolls in and out of their seats hundreds of times, was to nurture a baby. Something about those plastic dolls of my childhood filled my heart with joy, foreshadowing my life to come, when I would be filled with indescribable happiness while holding my own children, and now the twins living in my home. (Oh, the irony! TWO!)
I think that’s often how we approach Christmas, whether we look forward to family meals, giving gifts, children’s excitement, church, music, movies, etc. Something about those activities fills our hearts with joy—and maybe--they foreshadow an even fuller life and celebration to come.
So what are you looking forward to most this year? If you look deeper into that desire, what hope might be embedded in your Christmas wishes and expectations?
Maybe you haven’t thought to articulate your deepest desires because they’re so disguised (wrapped?) in the cultural trappings of Christmas, which we’ve grown to love (or not love, depending on our disappointments). But is it possible that the deepest desire of your heart might include love and peace within your family? Reconciliation with someone? A deep joy? Personal freedom from things that are destroying you? Peace? Forgiveness? Rest? God’s presence? Hope?
If those are the gifts you truly desire for Christmas, they are available to all of us, but you can’t overlook the source--remember the poignancy and significance in the Christmas story when the innkeeper had no room for the babe.
Receive the good tidings of great joy for all people: “The Savior has come; let there be peace on Earth and good will toward men from God!” Let the significance of that sink in; let it shine in dark places and replace despair with hope.
No matter how far-fetched or impossible your hopes and desires might seem, in your heart and in your life, “prepare Him room,” because “Joy to the world—the Lord is come!” Anything is possible!
Let's link up and tour around to see our trees and any special ornaments we might like to feature, OK?
Here's my tree at night. I know I'm missing a topper. The old one didn't match the new decor because we just painted the walls. They were taupe and cranberry; now they're brown and spring green:
Here it is in the daylight. Please note that I have wrapped gifts this early in the game; I am awesome:
And here is an ornament, hand-painted, by someone else, of my parents. They are about to celebrate 69 years of marriage on Dec. 16.
OK, those are my entries. Would you like to share? Please link to the post of your tree and/or ornament so we can see the loveliness. Thanks for participating!
I was in the store the other day and noticed a family of people who were deaf, two parents and a child. For just a moment, I thought about the challenges they must face daily, and I admired their happy demeanors as they chatted aloud and signed in the store. Not a drop of self-consciousness. Made me smile on the inside.
We happened to exit at the same time, and right outside stood a Salvation Army bell ringer. Earlier, I had noticed as I entered the store (as I had also the night before), that his "Merry Christmas" wishes seemed a little off somehow, a little ill-timed, but I had been in a hurry in the snow both times and did not stop to try to figure out what was slightly off-kilter. But on this night, exiting with the family, he did it again, and I looked into his face and realized, "He is blind."
So the people behind me who couldn't hear the bell ringer or the bell, wished the bell ringer, who could not see them, a merry Christmas, and vice-versa.
For some reason, I was very touched by this.
I'm not sure why God had me there at just that moment to witness that, but I think there was a reason. I've been thinking and thinking about it.
What do you think?
Don't forget to come back tomorrow and link up to share a pic of your tree and a significant ornament or two.
Don't know if anyone else is doing this out there in bloggyland this week, but I'd like to see everyone's tree. How about Thursday, December 9th, you come back here and link up to a post of your tree and/or a favorite ornament?
This week Lid asks, "When you were growing up, when did your family put up and decorate the Christmas tree? Was it real or artificial? Who usually decorated it? Were there special decorations? What was on the top? White lights or colored, blinking or steady? How much did your family decorate for the holiday other than the tree (wreaths, dishes, snowglobes, miniature villages, etc.)? Did y'all do outdoor lights? White or colored, blinking or not? Are there special memories associated with decorating for Christmas?"
Here I am, Christmas, 1964, at my little piano which my grandmother gave me. You can see the silver tree in the background; we had that tree for most of my growing up years. My favorite part of Christmas decorating was the wheel of color that turned and shone onto the reflective tree. I would lie on the floor, listen to the whir of the wheel and watch the colors fall over the tree, onto the ceiling and down the wall, over and over. It was magical. Of course, back in those days, we didn't have sensory overload like we do now. I can't imagine anyone but maybe a cat doing that today. Even toddlers are bored by holograms and time travel.
Here I am with my youngest of three brothers, Donnie. He is 56 now. I love him dearly. I don't have many memories of actually decorating except feeling like I couldn't really do it to please my mom. She wasn't as into "hominess" as "prettiness." I get that now. She had to look at it for a month.
My daughter gave me grief this year because I didn't use any of my kids' homemade ornaments, and everything is color-coordinated. Actually, I couldn't FIND their ornaments even if I had desperately wanted to use only those. And here I am at 13, with our sophisticated fake green tree. I thought it was the bomb-diggity. I loved that orchid sweater, too, my favorite color. I can tell by the hair that I was in 7th grade here, and madly in love with a red-headed 8th grade boy at my school. He lives in Philadelphia now.
Check out that gold crushed-velvet chair. Note the lack of lights. I'm not sure we had them on when I was young. I do remember some large ones outside around our picture window. That was about the extent of our decorating; Mom did not go overboard in baking or decorating for holidays. But I loved my Christmases and have very fond memories of footed pajamas, my bothers and their wives coming "home," and Elvis's Blue Christmas on our large console stereo, not my choice of music, but that's what I remember. I wonder how my kids will answer this question someday? ("She wasn't 'into' our ornaments ....")
He's humble, even self-deprecating, yet ambitious, with a professional goal in the medical field, even though the odds seem stacked against him.
He has successfully emancipated himself from both his mother and his boring job and often expresses how much he cherishes his independence. He's a maverick.
He can stand up for himself with high-powered CEO types and rub elbows right along with the common folk in factories.
He can sing, even writes his own tunes when the moment is right, so in addition to being focused professionally, he has a spontaneous, artsy side, as well.
His clothing choices reflect his unique personality; he is no slave to fashion trends. His hair is neat and very stylized. I think Clinton Kelly would approve.
He's not very tall, but that doesn't matter to me. I do care about good teeth, and so does he. I'm talking perfect dental hygiene.
He is the friend of those who are marginalized and misunderstood.
And he's kind to animals. {Dreamy sigh.}
Some people might not appreciate my attraction to his soft-spokeness, his gentile mannerisms, but I've had my fill of the Yukon Corneliuses of this world--so, in the words of The Angels (1963) It's Christmastime and, "Hey la, Hey la, My Boyfriend's Back."
Why don't candy canes taste as good on December 26 as they have for the last four weeks?
Overnight, radio stations have stopped playing Christmas music and resumed regular programming. Shiny packages wrapped with care are now shreds of white with ribbons trailing like puppy leashes. Holiday dinners are now leftovers.
Christmas trees are looking tired, and the glow of the rooftop lights is overshadowed by the prospect of bringing them down. And even as you read this, some are returning gifts they received only yesterday.
Christmas appears to be screeching to a halt if you merely take into account those cultural embellishments that we hang on the holy day like flashy ornaments. Their temporariness reflects the material life we live now, but the true gift of Christmas is eternal.
I remember the days when the morning frenzy would be over by now, but in 2009, two of the five of us are still asleep.
The kids are 23, 20, and 17. I remember when they were little I'd project their ages into the future, and I could not begin to fathom them being the ages they are now. Just like I can't imagine them being 50, 47 and 44. I hope I live to see that day. And I hope for some grandchildren to enjoy Christmas with then. Never thought I'd long for grandchildren, but I can see how it happens now.
My family, or those who would/could come, were at my house last night. Instead of the traditional dinner, we went for a local delicacy that all Muncie ex-pats long for but can't get anywhere else: Pizza King pizza. I know it sounds weird, but trust me, it's way better than ham and sweet potatoes.
The only glitch was that I prepared a few side dishes just in case someone (from Mars) might not want the pizza, and one of those was meatballs in the crock pot. Yesterday morning I rolled them all by hand, baked them and refrigerated them until time to put them in the sauce and heat through.
But I was exhausted around 1:00pm and felt like I couldn't go on without a nap, even though I was a little keyed up about people coming over. I was like Jekyll and Hyde. Before I napped, I asked Katie, 23, to please put the meatballs in the sauce in one hour. She said, "Check."
When I woke up, I checked on the meatballs, and they tasted so good! I was pretty impressed with myself. Then I noticed how "pretty" they were (for being meatballs and all), so perfectly rounded. "Wow," I thought, "maybe this is one hot dish I can actually do like other people."
Then I opened the fridge, and before my eyes sat ... the meatballs.
Twilight zone. And not the vampire kind but the Rod Serling kind, where your head is swirling. Although I think some girls' and their moms' heads swirl over Edward the Vamp.
Anyway.
Meatballs? I looked in the pot again.
"Katie, didn't you use all of my meatballs?"
"Yes, I used them all."
"Why do I have so many left?"
"What?"
"What?"
She had used a bag of frozen meatballs, not knowing I had made ones that morning.
So that explained why they were so GOOD!
Just another Christmas cooking story for ya.
I will say that last night, there was one little glorious moment that took me back in time. Kristin opened a movie that she didn't know she was going to get, and the instant happiness in her eyes and then her eyes looking up at me with a sparkle and slight smile completely melted my heart. My little girl is still there.
They are all three still there. Years pass, people grow, holiday traditions change--all this is as it should be, I know, but it's an indescribable joy to be allowed one little moment the way it used to be.
I'm sure Mary kept those kinds of memories in her heart, too, as her son's life unfolded in ways she didn't expect when he became an adult. I hope she was able to remember his eyes sparkling and his childhood days in her heart, just as she did the miraculous event of his birth.
Cherish every moment with your little ones, today, Moms. Take tons of pictures, and then when you think you've taken enough, take more. Be blessed!
Apparently, our Internet at home is down, so I'm not sure when I'll be back on here. In the meantime, since you came all this way, I'm leaving you with a look at my audition for the part of Buddy the Elf's girlfriend. Oh, white tights. You did the fat knees no favors.
I know ... you're going to think I'm hard and crass when you read this post, so if you're not in the mood for Christmas song tongue in cheek humor (satire alert!) click away. I understand.
OK, for those who remain:
It's the most wonderful time of the year ... for some people. Other people, not so much. Here is my tribute, which I thought was an original, creative idea until I Googled it of course, to the saddest songs of the happy Christmas season. Enjoy.
Or suffer, whichever you prefer.
7. Last Christmas - WHAM! Because what is a 2nd Cup post without the occasional reference to WHAM!?
I'm abridging these lyrics because basically, they're the same throughout the song. But the odd stanza about friends with tired eyes and souls of ice grabs the old ticker, especially with the irreverent use of God's name thrown into a Christmas song. Way to go, George. (Not Crow. Although George Crow also happens to be named "George Michael.") And I have always maintained that the 3rd line should read, "But the very next day, you tore it apart." Better, yes?
Last Christmas I gave you my heart But the very next day you gave it away This year To save me from tears I'll give it to someone special
A crowded room Friends with tired eyes I'm hiding from you And your soul of ice My god I thought you were Someone to rely on Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on
6. Happy Christmas (War is Over) - by John Lennon. Great. A hippie song for Christmas. Oh, OK, peace on Earth and goodwill toward men; I get it. I'm just not a huge Lennon fan. What starts ostensibly as a happy melody gets quickly dampened by these lyrics:
So this is Christmas And what have you done Another year over And a new one just begun And so this is Christmas I hope you have fun The near and the dear ones The old and the young
A very merry Christmas And a happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one Without any fear
Yikes, John. You have to bring fear into a Christmas song? And the first two lines sound like my mom after I ripped the wrapping paper for a peek when I was a kid: "What have you done??!!" You gotta be careful when you copy lyrics. One version of this said, "The near and the dim ones."
5. Blue Christmas - Elvis and the back-up "owl" quartet with the "oooh oooh, oooh oooh" skilz.
I'll have a Blue Christmas without you I'll be so blue thinking about you Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me
And when those blue snowflakes start fallin' That's when those blue memories start callin' You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas
We get it. BLUE. Blue, blue, blue Christmas [insert owl hoot].
4.I'll Be Home for Christmas - various artists
This one also starts out OK but quickly deteriorates into a sarcastic "dream on" in the mind of the listener.
I'm dreamin' tonight of a place I love Even more then I usually do And although I know it's a long road back I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas You can count on me Please have snow and mistletoe And presents under the tree Christmas Eve will find me Where the love light beams I'll be home for Christmas If only in my dreams I'll be home for Christmas If only in my dreams If only in my dreams
"So what you're saying is, you want me to go to all the trouble of arranging snow and mistletoe, but you don't know if you can actually make it. Well that's just great."
3. Please Come Home for Christmas - The Eagles
Nothing like begging someone not to roam to bring on the warm Christmas fuzzies. And somehow "sorrow, grief and pain" are not conducive to egg nogg drinking. At least not Baptist egg nogg.
Bells will be ringing this sad sad New Years Oh what a Christmas to have the blues My baby's gone I have no friends To wish me greetings once again Cries will be singing Silent Night Christmas carols by candlelight Please come home for Christmas Please come home for Christmas If not for Christmas by New Years night Friends and relations send salutations Sure as the stars shine above But this is Christmas yes Christmas my dear The time of year to be with the ones you love So won't you tell me you'll never more roam Christmas and new Years will find you home There'll be no more sorrow no grief and pain And I'll be happy, happy once again Oh there'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain And I'll be happy, Christmas once again
2. And here's one I had never heard until this week: Roy Orbison singing, "Pretty Paper." Like some others, this one starts off in a haze of sepia sentimentality which quickly turns to an oppressive, guilt-inducing fog by the 2nd stanza. If you make it past the 3rd stanza without doubling over in remorse, then your heart is 2 sizes too small, like the Grinch.
Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue Wrap your presents to your darling from you Pretty pencils to write “I love you” Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue
Crowded street, busy feet hustle by him Downtown shoppers, Christmas is nigh There he sits all alone on the sidewalk Hoping that you won’t pass him by
Should you stop? Better not, much too busy You’re in a hurry, my how time does fly In the distance the ringing of laughter And in the midst of the laughter he cries
Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue Wrap your presents to your darling from you Pretty pencils to write “I love you” Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue
And if you think lyrics about ignoring a homeless man are sad, the melody is even more morose.
But the Number One Saddest Christmas Song Ever: The Christmas Shoes recorded by several artists, but the one I've heard is by Newsong.
No, the Christmas shoes do not look like the snazzy one in this picture. These are "Come to Jesus" shoes. A little boy wants his mom to look nice in case she passes away that night.
Part of my problem with this song is that I do not like story songs in the tradition of the worst song ever: Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. My other problem is that listening to it on Youtube just made me want to drop my forehead on the computer desk and cry until I warped the fake wood. I can't imagine slipping this song in between Joy to the World and Frosty the Snowman. It's torturous on many levels. I do have a heart, but I dislike story songs immensely. (Kind of like musicals.)
It was almost Christmas time There I stood in another line Trying to buy that last gift or two Not really in the Christmas mood Standing right in front of me Was a little boy waiting anxiously Pacing around like little boys do And in his hands he held A pair of shoes
And his clothes were worn and old He was dirty from head to toe And when it came his time to pay I couldn't believe what I heard him say
Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry Sir? Daddy says there's not much time You see, she's been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes will make her smile And I want her to look beautiful If Momma meets Jesus, tonight.
He counted pennies for what seem like years And cashier says son there's not enough here He searched his pockets franticly And he turned and he looked at me He said Momma made Christmas good at our house Though most years she just did without Tell me Sir What am I gonna do? Some how I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes
So I layed the money down I just had to help him out And I'll never forget The look on his face When he said Momma's gonna look so great.
Sir I wanna buy these shoes, for my Momma please It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry Sir? Daddy says there's not much time You see, she's been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes will make her smile And I want her to look beautiful, If Momma meets Jesus tonight.
I knew I caught a glimpse of heavens love as he thanked me and ran out. I know that God had sent that little boy to remind me What Christmas is all about
Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry Sir? Daddy says there's not much time You see she's been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes will make her smile And I want her to look beautiful If Momma meets Jesus tonight
I want her to look beautiful If Momma meets Jesus tonight
OK, these are my nominations. Do you know any sad Christmas songs?
Definitely for, if we're talking baking/decorating. Eating? That's a bit iffy. Go light on the nutmeg, and I'm OK.
2. Is it important to you to always stay (live) close to family?
It is more important now than ever. My parents (thanks for helping me celebrate yesterday, by the way) are elderly, and my kids go to a nearby university. I love my girlfriends and my job ... why would I want to move? (Ask me again in slushy March when I'm longing to live on Anna Maria Island, FL).
3. Which holiday pretend character do you wish really existed?
Prancer, from the movie. And then Frosty.
4. Which holiday movie best represents how you feel about Christmas or life?
"It's a Wonderful Life." Every clinically depressed, suicidal person should have to watch this as part of therapy.
5. Is there a particular Christmas song that you're enjoying now? Any that you're tired of?
Here's the thing. I love Christmas music. I'm the one who wants to listen in October but waits until Thanksgiving, only to be chastised by Thanksgiving purists. However, this year, it is not working for me. I get so frustrated at all the radio stations playing all Christmas, all the time 3 weeks early. I'm feeling a little bit like "Groundhog Day" every time I hear the opening chords in some. There are some new ones I've found on AOL Christmas music, though, that I'm enjoying. And for some reason, this year I like Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You." I'm REALLY tired of "Grown Up Christmas List."
6. What is your favorite way to remember those less fortunate at Christmastime?
I like the organizations that allow you to purchase livestock for families in developing countries that will help sustain those families. I like to give chickens. Anyone who knows me knows that secretly I would like to receive chickens, as well.
7. Does it upset you to see "Xmas" instead of Christmas? How about "Happy Holidays" etc., instead of "Merry Christmas?"
If there were some law passed which prohibited my use of "Merry Christmas," I would be all upset. As it is, it just doesn't bother me like it does a lot of people. I feel like "Xmas" is just shorthand. People don't usually literally greet each other with "Xmas wishes!!!" anyway. And sometimes you just say "Merry Christmas" so much that you like an alternative just for variety's sake. I see nothing wrong with "Happy Holidays." "Winter Solstice" is so lame that it's funny.
8. How many Christmas programs are you attending this month?
It was going to be three, but it has been merely two. I'm keenly aware, as I have only one child left in school, that these Christmas programs are limited in number. When your kids are little, it seems as though they will never end. So I kid about how looooong each program is, but my girl knows I cherish every minute of it.
9. Are you dreaming of a white Christmas? Any chance of that dream becoming a reality?
In East Central Indiana, there is a good chance. I'm not dreaming of it this year, however, which is a sure sign of oldness.
10. Tell me about a Christmas present you received as a child. Pics are always nice.
Loved my Baby First Steps and Baby First Skate. Here is a pic of me with "Skate." Notice how clean the bottoms of my footie pajamas are: a testament to my mother's cleaning routine, a variation on the injunction to "Pray without ceasing" as in: "Clean without ceasing."
11. How many Christmas parties are you attending this month?
About four or five. Two pound weight gain for each party, I'm sure.
12. How do you keep yourself centered on the significance of Christmas?
I'm struggling a little bit, to be honest. But I am so looking forward to the Christmas Eve service, which I usually never get to attend. This year will probably be different, so I'm happy about that.
TOMORROW: Come back to read one of my favorite things I've written in a while: The Six Saddest Songs of Christmas.
I had my questions all ready for this week and left my notes in a notebook at work, so I'm winging it. If these questions aren't up to the usual level of complexity, nuances, irony, wit and analytical satire that you've become so accustomed to, well, golly wiggins, I'm sorry. You'll just have to humor me. Because I like humor.
1. Gingerbread: For or against? Discuss.
2. Is it important to you to always stay (live) close to family?
3. Which holiday pretend character do you wish really existed?
4. Which holiday movie best represents how you feel about Christmas or life?
5. Is there a particular Christmas song that you're enjoying now? Any that you're tired of?
6. What is your favorite way to remember those less fortunate at Christmastime?
7. Does it upset you to see "Xmas" instead of Christmas? How about "Happy Holidays" etc., instead of "Merry Christmas?"
8. How many Christmas programs are you attending this month?
9. Are you dreaming of a white Christmas? Any chance of that dream becoming a reality?
10. Tell me about a Christmas present you received as a child. Pics are always nice.
11. How many Christmas parties are you attending this month?
12. How do you keep yourself centered on the significance of Christmas?
Today's post was almost done sans pictures because Kristin has commandeered the main computer in the family room for homework reasons. (Ooh, she's so selfish!) But at 9:09 pm, I kicked her off and uploaded some pics just for you. I have my priorities.
All day long that girl has been working on a writing project due tomorrow that calls for two paragraphs on 10 different historical documents/speeches, such as the Preamble and JFK's big speech. To keep her at it, Jorge and I have been allotting her exactly two Skittles all day whenever she completes two paragraphs, kinda like potty training. No other food. Our wisdom astounds us. We should write a parenting book.
I think she's craving some protein, though. I guess Skittles just don't stay with you that long. Maybe I should make some more buckeyes, since the peanut butter has protein. Sounds like a good excuse reason to make another triple batch to me.
I hope you had a great weekend.
Mine was not so great.
I can't even remember Friday, but Saturday we had big plans with our small group to do a walking tour of a replica of an 1836 Prairie Village at Conner Prairie Interactive Historic Park which is about an hour from us. I had been looking forward to this event for about four weeks.
Included in this tour was a chance to see all of the gingerbread houses in a Conner Prairie competition. You all know (esp. from last year) how I LOVE gingerbread competitions. In fact, I recently set my DVR to tape any show that features the word "gingerbread" in the title. Gotta catch 'em all, Pokemon! So this night was going to be ... pure bliss!
So Saturday afternoon, after a surprise 50th birthday party for a friend (Happy Birthday, Kathy!) I headed home to dress in long underwear and big woolen scarves to prepare for the night of nights in frigid weather.
Only as I left the party, the room started to spin.
I drove home and realized I was making myself "car sick" which most people cannot do to themselves, but is a skill that I can boast of. Yay, me.
I never recovered. I took all kinds of antacids and did whatever I could to make the bad go away, but it lingered.
All the way to Conner Prairie.
I staggered through the gingerbread house display, snapping pictures like wild paparazzi because I knew I had to work fast and then throw up and die. Here ya go:
So just as our group was about to begin the holiday tour of Christmas 1836-style, Jorge had to help me to the car, and we drove home with me holding a Walmart bag to my face and my scarf tied around my head and eyes to keep out the lights of oncoming headlights, etc. I sort of looked like a nauseated ninja.
Jorge said he was afraid he would get pulled over because he was apparently kidnapping a blindfolded hyperventilating woman.
We made it home with a little gagging but no actual relief, whereupon I fell into the bed and woke this morning (Sunday, actually, as I type this) perfectly fine.
What are the chances that I would become horribly nauseated just long enough to miss the event I've been looking forward to as "the" Christmas event of 2009?
Oh, about the same chance as getting the first parking spot in the mall lot on a December Saturday, I'd say, but it happened.
This evening we did enjoy a small town Christmas event about 20 minutes away, where Kristin sang in the high school women's advanced choir in a tiny, TINY (so tiny that the word in all caps dwarfs the actual church) church while people roamed the streets outside picking up free warm cookies, peanuts, brownies, soups and cider all along the shops. It was a little like Gilmore Girls' Stars Hollow, only not as quaint, but it was hard to tell that in the dark, so it was all good.
And that's the weekend wrap up, my "gift" to you. How was yours? It has to be a better story than this, no matter what you did, unless you actually threw up or got kidnapped.
Please click on the pic to read the important message.
You know, it feels weird to post this recipe because I feel as though I'm Mrs. Obvious, posting a recipe for something as common as a peanut butter jelly sandwich. But to my shock and disbelief, there are some of you who have uttered the words (in print) "What is a buckeye?" I checked, and no, you weren't being facetious. You really wanted the recipe.
Seriously? Are you the pod progeny of health nuts from Mars or something? (And I mean that in the most respectful way.)
Essentially, buckeyes could be likened to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Except you can't run down to the Dollar General and pick them up for $.50. NO, you have to work for them, which probably makes devouring them like a python swallowing a baby kangaroo even more enjoyable.
Basically, you have to roll little balls of sugar and peanut butter together and dip them in melted chocolate.
Excuse me while I pull myself together.
Buckeyes are a weak spot for me, a personal Kryptonite, if you will. So once a year, sometimes bi-annually because the havoc is so devastating, I make a batch. And then I try not to eat them ALL before Christmas. Epic FAIL.
Directions: 1. In a large bowl, mix together the peanut butter, butter, vanilla and confectioners' sugar. The dough will look dry. Roll into 1 inch balls and place on a waxed paper-lined cookie sheet. 2. Press a toothpick into the top of each ball (to be used later as the handle for dipping) and chill in freezer until firm, about 30 minutes. 3. Melt chocolate chips in a double boiler or in a bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water. Stir frequently until smooth. You can add a little vegetable oil if you like to make the chocolate thinner and smoother. 4. Dip frozen peanut butter balls in chocolate holding onto the toothpick. Leave a small portion of peanut butter showing at the top to make them look like Buckeyes. Put back on the cookie sheet and refrigerate until serving.
Or tell yourself you will refrigerate them until a certain date, knowing full well you will eat several each night until there are none left for the poor losers who got "The Buckeye Shaft of 2009."
Oh, and look! I have the exact same number of hairs on my head at 47 as I did at 2! Isn't that precious?!
1. Which physical trait do you now accept--maybe not love, but accept--and no longer feel extremely self-conscious about?
I shall choose one: my nose, which, as you can see in the pic above, was fine as a child. But when puberty hit, so did the ugly. My kids told me I had a witch's bump once. Niiiice. A doc told me it has definitely been broken at least once, maybe twice. He said he could fix it for me. And I have large nostrils, for some reason. My whole life I was self-conscious, and I still don't love it, but I've accepted it. Now, in reference to last week's question about cosmetic surgery, let me reiterate here that I have nothing against it. And if someday I want to do something to myself, I would appreciate not being judged by the more "pious" community, if you know what I mean. Keepin' it real here.
2. This week Meredith Baxter Birney, best known as the mom on the favorite 80s sitcom "Family Ties" came out of the closet, which led me to formulate this question: Who do you think is/was the best TV mom?
You know, none of them seemed really "warm" to me. I guess they couldn't match my mom (who, in oxymoronic fashion was both warm AND critical of me, including critical of the nose. Hard to reconcile, I know, but it's true. She was lovingly critical?) Anyway, I pick Shirley Jones on the Partridge Family. I loved her demeanor.
3. Do you speak any foreign languages? Are there any you'd like to learn?
I can read French and I remember small phrases. I could not conjugate a verb, though. Yes, I'd like to learn French and Spanish.
4. Who is your personal hero?
Right now, there is a little 16 year old girl whom I've written about here who is hospitalized for critical care as a result a grave immune deficiency disease. You can read her sister's blog, Dancing Through the Rain if you would like a swift kick in the rear that will make you appreciate your life today. Both girls are fighting for their lives. Only 11 people in the world have this disease. Karly Koch, you are my hero. Kelsey, you too, Sweetie.
5. What is one holiday food that you find extremely difficult to resist over- indulging in?
How many times can I work the word "Buckeyes" into consecutive posts? Tomorrow, I post the recipe. They are killing. me.
6. Tell me about a Christmas decoration that has special meaning or sentimental value.
Last year, my sister-in-law Cathy asked us to take a photo of our house and send it to her, without any explanation. At Christmas, she presented us with a hand-painted ornament that was an exact representation of our house. I will always treasure it.
7. How do you feel about snow?
I love it. I will be tired of it soon, but I get excited every year when the first fall happens and when the city virtually shuts down due to heavy snow. The older I get, though, the more I notice my enthusiasm waning. That's oldness for you.
8. On average, how many hours of sleep do you get each night? Not that I'm jealous of any number over three or anything.
Probably 6, which should be enough, I know, but it's not.
9. Tell me about your first crush.
OH Lid. Do you want the first one or the first real one. Because the first one happened when I was so little I don't even know how I knew he was a boy and I was a girl. He was our pastor's son, and I'll bet I hadn't been to kindergarten yet. That sounds crazy, but I can honestly aver that I have never had any confusion about gender preference. My poor parents. I was born crushing on someone. But later there was a Brett S., a Bryan W., a Bryan C., a Brett A. ... and a couple more before Jorge the Jabanero.
10. You're stuck in a room for 2 hours with only a chalkboard and chalk. What will you write/draw?
When I doodle in staff meetings, I draw wildflowers and squares. But if I'm gonna be there 2 hours, I might write a blog post. Only ... how would I get it transferred?
11. Do you dress for the current temp or for the day's forecast?
This question stems from a conflict of opinions I shared with a high school friend years ago. She dressed for the forecast. I dressed for the moment I was walking out the door. She was smart. I was ... inevitably too cold, hot or wet.
12. Favorite Christmas movie is?
It's a Wonderful Life. And for the record, the moment at the telephone when Sam Wainwright calls and Mary and George are face to face at the phone? They don't make passionate scenes like that anymore. Woo. Hoooooo. Sometimes less is SO much more! I also love The Bishop's Wife with Cary Grant.
Welcome to ISWYS Christmas Edition, 2008! Can I get a "Woo-to-the-Hoo?!"
Bi'ness: Please be sure to link directly to your video post below so that viewers go to your video and not to your shopping list or New Year's resolutions list or something like that, although I'm sure your resolutions are interesting and completely rational and attainable, as all resolutions always are. On the day you make them.
However, if you vlogged your resolutions, I think that was a great idea because you will be memorable to us, and we will check back with you in 12 weeks or so to see how you're doing with those promises that you made before the world. Just another service I provide: unsolicited accountability. You're welcome.
To those of you reprising your roles in your stunning videos from September 30: I cannot tell you how excited I am to see you again! You are veterans now, captivating Vlog-land ingenues all of you, well, except for Greg, who cannot strictly speaking be an ingenue, so I'll just call him a "heroic luminary for our troubled times" instead. To those of you debuting today: I cannot tell you how excited I am to "meet" you! Break a leg, etc., etc.
So here is my video, complete with bloopers at the end, expertly edited by my wonderful spouse, Jorge, who worked many hours to sync up our new computer with our older camera. He is the man. Oh, I could kiss him. (That will be funny in a minute or two.)
You will notice about three seconds of our kids in a van singing Dexy's Midnight Runners' "Come on Eileen" (1982) on our way back from summer vacation, but hey, we meant that to be there. Think of it as a musical interlude. OH, Just go with it, OK?
First of all, ARE YOU READY? "I See What You're Saying, Christmas Edition" is this coming TUESDAY! You've still got plenty of time to tape 60-120 seconds of a video telling everyone hello and Happy New Year, if you want to get in on the fun.
I do have to confess that although my video is done and ready to post, actually posting it may be another matter. Remember recently that my computer died and we purchased a brand new one? Well, apparently, our new stuck-up computer is not speaking to our camera or something technical like that. Jorge has gone to great lengths to straighten this mess out, but so far, it's a no-go. We have one or two more options before we put up the white flag, though. I'll keep you posted. Literally.
HOWEVER, if I cannot post, it does not mean that we cannot have the carnival, because of course, you can still post and link here at the hub, and people will still be able to find you. You'll just be spared the threat of another sadistic mini-series of my creation wherein you are forced to hear embarrassing stories about my husband's vasectomy and watch me lip sync to musicals. (Come to think of it, how do I know my husband is telling me the truth about this so-called noncompatibility between machines? I mean, maybe he just wants to shut me up before I tell how he played the role of the elf, "Blue Top," in his parochial grade school school musical. It's all becoming a little clearer now, I think!)
Here is my immediate family at my brother's house: Jorge, Kristin, Moi, Jordan, Katie and her BF, Shad.
And here is Miss Zoe with her "mom," who looks like she has a tool belt full of cookies and pie around her middle. This must go. So today, out go the sweets! (Except for the little sweetie I'm holding!) Hope you had a wonderful Christmas--now go shoot that video!
When I was a little girl, my favorite Christmas present was a big old baby stroller, quilted blue, a flat canopy trimmed with white fuzzy pom-poms, similar to the one in this picture. Beautiful! But the best part of the stroller was that—oh, sit down for this--was that it was a DOUBLE stroller, room for one baby facing forward, the other backward. A feature like that that could make a little pretend mommy dizzy with strolling dreams! 
