I Can’t Help Myself Thursday. The Year End Edition.

Amazon, after my nice husband spent good money on a Kindle for me, you send me this?


Apparently you haven’t read my rant on the Lee sisters. Get with the program!

Things that make Tiger Woods happy while in rehab:


From the wife’s lawyer:

“They’re very much in love. They want to try to work it out and want to have the best shot at doing that,” Brooke Sheen’s attorney, Yale Galanter, told The Associated Press. “These kids are in probably the most loving, nurturing, wholesome, healthy environment I have ever seen,” he said, describing their mother as “doting.”

Well Brooke, if Charlie keeps snapping your eyeglasses in half, you won’t really be able to read the terms of your pre-nup! And that might make the best chance of reconciliation.

In local news, this is a facsimile of a customer seen at one of our favorite local establishments last night:


Note the bad toupee and mustache. Note the eerie resemblance to members of the Third Reich. Note that ROZ our bartender (her code name) has spun on her heel and is ignoring you, because you are standing next to us knocking on the bar (or maybe we are knock, knock knocking on heaven’s door???? ) and waving someone’s empty wine glass in a vain attempt for attention?

ROZ quickly convened in a huddle with us, where upon she declared this idiot was going to be the thirstiest man in the bar, and would remain parched for several more minutes, until she could restrain herself from ripping his face off. Way to go ROZ! You have the makings of a book on bad customers!

Happy New Year faithful readers!

And then there was wrapping paper…..

The stray wrapping paper and bows are being swept away, (I refuse to re-purpose my Christmas paper by ironing it and using it as drawer liners) and another Christmas is over.

The best part of Christmas is having a 7 year old nephew to buy for. Little Matt asked my brother-in-law if Santa and his occasional pipe smoking would set off the smoke detectors. You go Matt, always thinking about strangers and what havoc they can wreak on your house!


I know it looks like Matt is opening a fruitcake, but his cool aunt got him the Crayola Glow Dome instead of the traditional Italian panettone all children love. Wisely, Meg purchased this early in November, and I heard parents were doing battle over it in Target last week.

Here’s another gift Matt loved:


I should have taken a photo of my sister’s plaid Crocs, because they truly are the cozy feet people.

Here’s what Mom gave my sister and I:


The Pioneer Woman cookbook! We can now apply poundage quickly and easily by merely opening up the first chapter.

Lastly, what better way to cap Christmas weekend off than by watching the Sound of Music?


As I watched the movie, I remembered another thing besides that damn harp that I wanted for Christmas:


And think I do have room for a puppet theater. To fit my lonely goatherd on a hill, Ho-de-lay-ho-de-lay Ho-de-loo!

The Best Gifts Ever!

As I attempt to recover from my pre-Christmas adventure, in which several members of our party were picked up on a Western Virginia back road in a blizzard by a man with a shotgun and a bottle of Old Crow next to him, I try and ponder cheery thoughts.

And I think back to my favorite gifts as a kid. Back in the Mesozoic Era, there were no IPOD’s or designer clothes. It was a simpler time, although many Mom’s would have appreciated ordering on-line and having things delivered to their doorstep.

Here’s a winner:


OMG, I loved that View Master! Who didn’t want to see the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World? And I seriously did think there were real Hanging Gardens of Babylon. I was 8, so cut me some slack, OK? The National Parks packet was also a kick-ass experience as well.

(….and the other good thing about Christmas reminiscing is looking at the really great haircuts you and your sister had.)

This gift I remember eventually liking, but it took awhile for me to warm up to:


I wanted a damn harp, and I remember thinking Santa was pretty cruel for not fitting it into the sleigh for me. I did adjust to the tabletop organ, but in my mind’s eye I clearly was meant to play for angels.

As we fling ourselves headlong into Christmas, let us remember the gifts that brought us the most joy and fun are the simple ones.

And honey, if it’s not too late, I think I’ve decided to take up an instrument.

What is a Hokie and other musings…

Tomorrow we travel to Blacksburg, Va for a winter graduation at Virginia Tech, home of the Hokies. The beloved niece has blown through all of her coursework in 3.5 years and is making her escape back to Eastern Virginia, and hopefully a new job.

I’m a little surprised it took me this long to actually ponder what a Hokie is. For some reason, I thought it was a wild bird of some kind that wandered the mountains. Apparently, it comes from an old college cheer, in which invoking the word Hokie is the equivalent of Hooray. That certainly is one of the more interesting college mascot/team names I can think of, although I always thought our local Tufts Jumbos (named after the stuffed circus elephant that you used to be on campus before it got torched) was a really one of the more unique mascots.

Anyway, we are winging our way via Raleigh and heading on to the Tech campus for a few days of celebration, and then back into full Christmas onslaught.

Good work Ginny, and Hooray, (or Hokie) on your graduation with honors!


Brought to you by the Letter D…

Today’s blog entry is brought to you by the letter D. D as in Done Christmas shopping, and D as in Drink. Both are fabulous things. Like whiskers on kittens.

Decorating. Done.

We got some Santas:

A tasteful tree:


Maybe a few more Santa’s?


Shopping. I made my one and only trip to the dreaded MALL. Why does it always feels like a reconnaissance mission??? I map my route out, loop through the obstacle course as fast as I can, and run for my life. Although, yesterday someone gave me a bonus coupon for $10 off my purchase (they couldn’t use it), and another store dug out a 15% that they thought would work! Merry Christmas nice people at the Mall!

Then, we have the ditz factor. Chico’s lady, STOP HOVERING OVER ME. Don’t tell me how unusual this Navy Blue jacket is, so unusual you can’t find a tank top in that color. Ummm, if you look over your shoulder at yonder rack, there are a pile of them. Right in your very own store. I quickly spun on my heel to leave, which was a shame, as I love shopping in stores with sizes 1, 2, and 3.

Williams Sonoma lady, if I want to buy a jar of garlic puree, PLEASE LET ME. Don’t tell me how easy it is to make my own and then proceed to give me your take on how to do it. And yes, I know you can buy chopped garlic at the regular grocery store, but it’s not puree. Which I use every night in the winter, because it keeps vampires at bay. P.S. You might consider promoting your companies products, I think they would really like it.

Luckily for me, I’ve never had to do anything like this at the Mall, for which I’m eternally grateful:
This is my friend Amazing Trips Christmas photo from a few years ago, Let’s just say the kids weren’t digging Santa. But is seriously is the funniest Christmas portrait I’ve ever seen.

So I’m feeling good things are done. Maybe I’ll do a little wrapping later, and oh yes, I think I will indulge with a little D called drink.

Bottoms up!