A New Year's Message from My Cat

Have a Happy New Year or Imma hurt you.

The Dead Zone

Not that kind of Dead.

A friend of mine used to refer to the week between Christmas and New Year's as "the dead zone,"  the time when one set of festivities is over and the next one has not yet begun.  My friend used to throw a party during the dead zone, giving us all something to do besides wait for the ball to drop later in the week. 

But I'm older now, and I don't mind a little quiet time.  I've got my calendar and planner organized for the coming year, the Chrismas decorations are put away, and my jewelry work area (which was taken apart to make way for cookie baking) is back in the corner of the living room.

I've been spending time listening to music, or to the wind, or to the calls of the crows outside.  I've been drawing, and thinking about new jewelry designs.  I've been getting in bed early with the first of the Palliser novels.

It's been lovely.

Words of Wisdom, Christmas Edition: Charles Dickens

"This boy is Ignorance.  This girl is Want.  Beware of them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.  Deny it!... And bide the end."

 A Christmas Carol

Merry Christmas, Gentle Readers!  May Ignorance and Want be kept from your door today and always.  May you instead, find peace, prosperity and good company in the new year.

Deck The Halls

"Do you want to come over and help me decorate?" my grandmother would call to ask my siblings and me on a Saturday morning early in December.  And yes, as a matter of fact, we did.  It was the most eagerly anticipated day in the Christmas seasons of my childhood next to Christmas Day itself.

Boxes and boxes of decorations would come out of storage in the eaves behind my grandfather's closet.  There was a long garland of plastic poinsettias to be wound around the bannister on the stairs.  There was gold tinsel garland and scratchy white fake snow that I wasn't allowed to touch (it was probably toxic, come to think of it) to festoon the mantel, where a plastic sleigh with Santa and some wrapped gifts would be pulled by eight tiny reindeer and a Rudolph that was bigger than the rest and didn't match them.

There was a manger scene with all the usual fixings, including an angel holding a banner that said "Gloria," which when I was very little I thought was her name.  My mom has the manger scene now, which she puts up every year and enjoys at least as much as my grandmother did.  When I told her about Gloria one recent Christmas, my mother looked at me quizzically and said "Didn't you think of the carol with the words 'gloria in excelsis deo'?"  Nope.  I was a precocious reader, but more or less average in the understanding of Latin words department. 

At Gram's house, the barn for the manger scene was carefully placed on the itchy, scratchy snow.  I was allowed, as I got a little older, to place the figures in the scene -- which was a grave responsibility, both because of the fragile nature of the figures and the need for traditional accuracy in the placement -- with repeated warnings not to touch the snow (what was that stuff)?  Next to the barn was placed a white church with a steeple that had lighted stained-glass windows and tiny carolers outside it, holding hymnals with their mouths permanently painted in Os.

There were tinsel garlands to festoon doorways, and a huge brandy snifter to fill with colored glass balls and place on the kitchen table.  There were little Christmas figures for the top of the TV (what was already there was removed from its crocheted doily and stored for the season).  Decorations for every room in the house came out of those boxes.  But the scariest ornament of all -- to me as a little kid, anyway -- was the plastic mistletoe that hung in the doorway to the living room.  It was attached to a styrofoam ball decorated with beads and ribbons.

This is a bell, not a ball, but you get the idea.

It wasn't scary looking, but it was very scary to a shy little kid because proximity to it meant getting kissed.  Or having to kiss someone you really didn't want to, like your brother, for instance (on the cheek, but still).  I used to pause about six feet from the doorway, make a visual reconnaissance of the area, and then run through the doorway at top speed once the coast was clear.  I would be sternly reminded not to run in the house, but it was worth it, and in any case the grownups tended to be more lenient with the antics of excitable children at holiday time.

Despite my childhood anxieties, when I found a bunch of plastic mistletoe among the boxes of Christmas things I saved from going to  the Johnston landfill, I had to keep it.  It's hanging in the doorway between my sunroom and living room and in the unlikely event anyone tries to kiss me when I don't want them to, they will get, as my mother would say, a punch in the snoot.

Two Blogs, Two Etsy Pages

Let's face it: just as I have too much fabulousness for one blog, I have too much fabulousness for one Etsy page.  I'm still making and selling my handmade vintage, repurposed, and reclaimed jewelry at Sow's Ear Jewelry, and now I'm also selling fun vintage items at Carmen Miranda's Vintage & Kitsch. I seem to have an eye for kitschy vintage stuff.  Who knew? 

Right now I'm focusing on finding new homes for some vintage Christmas ornaments that I rescued before they went to the landfill.

This Vintage Koestal ornament is handcrafted with handpainted wax heads.  It's from about the 1940s.  No way was I going to let this end up in the trash.  It's even cuter in person.

This is an awesome example of 1960s beaded crafts.  It's a handmade angel ornament that's nine inches tall and can stand or hang.  What's more awesome than baby blue paillettes?

Maybe a faux-Faberge egg ornament made from turquoise flocked material and dozens of faux-pearl beads.   It's really pretty from every angle.

Of course, nothing says Christmas like a pair of demented choirboys in your floral display.  You can quote me on that.

Dear, sweet, two-pound Baby Jesus is beautifully proportioned.  It feels like you're holding a (small) real baby.  I'm actually getting kind of attached to this one, so I hope somebody buys it soon.  I might end up being the crazy lady pushing a baby Jesus statue in a pram, and nobody wants that.

Helping To Make Your Season Bright

 


During this stressful time of year, what could brighten your day more than William Shatner? (Or as I like to call him, "The Shat" -- and yes, I do know what that is the past tense of, thank you very much.) Here he sings Bohemian Rhapsody with such dramatic pauses, such hilarious pathos, such utter... Shatnerness that your heart will be filled with joy. Or at least you'll laugh for five minutes and forty seconds. Enjoy!

Happy Thanksgiving!

My table centerpiece: a bowl my brother made me filled with colorful fallen leaves.

Happy Thanksgiving, Gentle Readers.  I'm thankful to each and every one of you for taking time out of your busy days to read the crazy goings-on in my life and in my head. 

Veteran's Day

The Army Dude is old school: photos from below the name tape down only.

I know I tease the Army Dude a lot on my blogs, but the truth is I am fortunate to know someone who is not only a squared-away soldier, but an excellent human being. 

Thank you for your service, Army Dude.  And thank you to everyone who puts his or her life on the line for the rest of us.

Happy Halloween!

I totally stole this from someone on Facebook.

Tonight I'm going to my friend's house as I do every Halloween.  She lives on a busy street and gets a bazillion trick-or-treaters.  What's more fun on Halloween night than sitting on the porch drinking tea and handing out candy to a bunch of cute kids in costume?

Dressing up to hand out candy, that's what.  I usually think of this approximately five minutes before leaving the house.  Last year, my friend loaned me a plush moose hat and all evening people kept saying it was too early for reindeer.  That was annoying.

This year, I've got a costume all ready to go.  I'm going to get someone to take my picture and I'll post it here because obviously I have no shame about posting pictures in which I look silly.  I'll give you a hint: I'm dressing as an Aunt of Literature.

And no, it's not Auntie Em.

Merry Christmas!

"If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blessed in a laugh than Scrooge's nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I'll cultivate his acquaintance."

Charles Dickens

A Christmas Carol

Gentle readers, I wish you a very Merry Christmas, filled with laughter and good cheer. Enjoy the day, my friends. You are all awesome and deserve the very best the holiday has to offer.

Presents of Mind

This is what I've been doing instead of blogging.

I know this is a cliche, my friends, but wasn't last Christmas about a month ago? I guess time flies when you're blogging about the important issues of the day -- such as rat whispering, catalog shopping, and the outcome of Project Runway.

This week has been a blur of cookie making and gift wrapping until the wee hours. I don't remember the last time I was this tired. Oh wait, yes I do: last Christmas.

Auntie Spends The Day Making Cookies

This is what happens to Old Maids after day-long exposure to children.

Christmas In Rhode Island

You've got to love people who go the extra mile with their Christmas decorations. The Army Dude sent this photo to me yesterday morning and I immediately forwarded it to my brother and sister. It's what we do.

Hiding Out At Home

About a week ago, the Army Dude asked me if I wanted to get up really early on the Friday after Thanksgiving and go shopping. My response was "Have you met me?


Hell no, I don't want to go shopping on the busiest retail day of the year. There is nothing I need or want so badly that I would get up while it is still dark and fight crowds for it. Nothing. Not even at Tiffany's. I started my Yuletide shopping weeks ago to avoid just this sort of panic.


Instead, I have spent the day doing yoga, napping, reading, browsing catalogs, and getting my holiday baking plan organized. (Oh, and I also showered. Go me!) Tonight, I'm going to eat leftover lasagne and watch a movie in my pajamas.


Now that's how you spend a bonus day off.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Army Dude and I are repeating last year's tradition of Pajama Pants Thanksgiving, which involves a lot of sitting on the couch and watching TV.

The Army Dude will NOT be wearing pajama pants that look like this -- for which I am truly thankful.

It's A MAJOR Award!

I have an ongoing quest to bring the most obnoxious gift possible to my company's annual Christmas Yankee Swap. I'm not sure why. It could be because I resent having to go to three different company Christmas parties and the swap in the office is the last one. Or it could be because one year a friend brought a reindeer hitch cover to the swap and I thought it was hilarious.


My first attempt was a huge Christmas snow globe with snowmen and reindeer inside. It played eleven different Christmas songs. It lit up. The lights changed color. The "snow" was made of little balls of styrofoam. At the party, the son of one of my co-workers fell in love with the thing so his dad had to swap for it. The person he took it from was actually disappointed.


Last year I purchased a calendar with vintage pinup gals from the 1940s. I taped some lottery tickets to it and I warned the ladies I work with which gift to avoid. I thought it would be like a hot potato but the boys fought to get it.


This year I'm bringing a leg lamp from A Christmas Story. It looks exactly like the one in the movie, except it's smaller and therefore more tasteful. Well, it's smaller anyway. Nobody could possibly want that. Could they?