Snow

A week just got away from me and I'm certain I don't know where it went. Maybe south, with the snow-birds, to warmer climes. Because winter's fury is heading our way and we're ready.

Plenty of milk, eggs, and bread. Firewood stacked and ready. Butter softening to make cookies. And a new plastic toboggan waiting to be christened by an enthusiastic eight year old.

I love snow. Especially this early in winter. I love the snowball fights, the peaceful quiet of the falling snow. The holiday lights reflecting in the snow. And then coming in for hot chocolate with whipped cream. Chocolate AND vanilla whipped cream.  YUM.

What I don't like is the hype. The news and forecasts are full of this "blizzard" heading our way. People get panicky and flock to the stores. I stopped into the grocery store earlier for a package of rolls, turned around and walked right back out. It was ridiculous.

And I will live without the rolls.

But not the cookies. Of course, I have to make them first.

Details.

If snow is headed your way, I hope you're safe and warm.

Musings on Soccer and Alcohol

Yesterday was sunny and not too cold. We were supposed to get our Christmas tree.
We didn't.

Today is overcast, supposed to rain, and my son has his first indoor soccer game. And we have to get our tree today (since we didn't get it yesterday - see above). But we have to do it before it rains. And, did I mention, my son has his first indoor soccer game. Today. Right after lunch. In the middle of the afternoon. So we have to run out this morning and get a tree so it's not all wet and drippy when we bring it in the house.

WHY?

We signed up for indoor soccer because, historically, it starts in January and runs for six Sundays. It's a good opportunity for the kids to run around for an hour when otherwise stuck inside due to frigid temperatures. This may be New England, but we're wimps, and frigid temps are the best reason to stay inside. Preferably with a Hot Toddie.

 I want to meet the genius who decided it was a good idea to start indoor soccer two weeks before Christmas, the third day of Hanukkah, in the midst of holiday preparations and gatherings. It's already an incredibly hectic time, trying to arrange schedules and searching for a little downtime. Aw hell, who needs downtime? I don't need to lower my blood pressure.

OY!

I guess I'm a little stressed. Perhaps it's time for a cocktail. Or a mimosa since it's not even 10:00 AM yet. Mimosas are a wonderful reason to drink in the morning. I've never been a Bloody Mary kinda girl. Never could stand the smell or taste of vodka. I prefer tequila. And champagne, of course.

Whatever it is, you add a little orange juice and call it breakfast.

Hmmm, just writing about it has helped me take a deep breath - and made me thirsty. But now it's back to reality - soccer games and Christmas trees. And trains all over the damn house.

And dreams of that bottle of prosecco chilling in the fridge.

Christmas Carols

Christmas is approaching and Carols are on the brain of my eight year old. He spontaneously bursts into his version of Deck The Halls, Joy To The World, Jingle Bells and the theme song to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

When I say "his version" what I mean is that he will make up his own lyrics to a song when he can't quite make out what they are. Or he'll just kind of hum.

Jingles Bells has been on his brain for months, but lately a different version has emerged. Perhaps you know it better this way:

Jingle Bells
Batman Smells
Robin laid and egg
The batmobile has lost a wheel
And Joker does ballet

An oldie but goodie. I'd heard this one, but more familiar to me is this version:

Jingle Bells
Santa smells
Rudolf laid an egg

(that's all I got)

My personal favorites are equally irreverent; I'm partial to the South Park Christmas album. Whenever I'm alone in the car, I put it in the cd player, crank up the volume and sing along full volume. It's very satisfying.

Tonight, when the Cub Scouts gather outside on the green to decorate a tree for the town, there will be hot chocolate and caroling. I'm sure it will be very sweet, and I can't wait to hear all about it, since I'll be staying warm at home and not dealing with Cub Scout moms.

Talk about cold.

Here's hoping you see some lights and hear some carols to warm your heart on these (cold) winter days.

Pathetic

Last Sunday, in balmy 55+ degree weather, I hung Christmas lights on my deck around the railing. I love the lights and I was so excited to have the outdoor lights done. When it gets dark out and we turn them on, I just sit and stare.

Only last week, when I plugged them in... nothing. The outdoor outlet which has been working fine, is not working. We can't seem to reset it. So everynight when it gets dark, I look out at the deck and see the lights not lit. Except by the floodlight on the corner of the deck. Not exactly what I had in mind.

And then, last night, it snowed. Not much. Just a dusting. But I was out there, in the dark, having a snowball fight. We had a great time and laughed a lot. But I kept looking forlornly at my unilluminated lights and wishing I could solve the problem.

I love it when it snows and the lights get covered by it and they make the snow glow.

So I made a plan. The plan was that today, I would put out some of the other outdoor lights I wasn't planning on putting out. I put out some candy canes with lights inside. I put out the little "holographic" presents. I went and purchased a big old plastic Santa and put him on the front stoop. And I wrapped more my old fashioned colored Christmas lights around a barren little tree in the front yard that did not ask for this indignity.

But it got it anyway. Of course, today it was only about 37 degrees out. And windy. And the ground was wet and a little crunchy where the snow hadn't melted. But now that it's dark outside, I can look out and see my pathetic little tree standing alone as a beacon of light in the darkness.

And Bunnicula, the painted pumkin, is sitting on the front stoop with Santa, and smiling.

Countdown

Now that we're officially into Christmas season, my son regularly asks "how many days until Christmas." He's been working on his wishlist for months and continues to add to it.  Today he can stop asking me, because today he starts eating the chocolate in his advent calendar. And he can figure out how many days until Christmas by how much chocolate he hasn't eaten yet. Maybe. The math they're teaching kids these days isn't the math that I learned. No simple equations for these kids, nosireebob.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, I have been decorating. I put out the ceramic tree that lights up. The really cool tree that has trains going around it and plays Christmas carols. The wood and metal trees that do nothing, but add to the overall festive ambiance. There are candy canes and colored lights. I put lights and "greenery" on my mantle in the living room too. From a distance it looks like greenery. From close up it looks like plastic and wire.

When I was a girl my dad had a silver tinsel tree decorating the showroom of his business. That was the coolest tree. It had one of those rotating lights with the different colored gels focused at it so it would change color. For some reason, in those long-ago days of yore, fire code did not allow businesses to put lights directly on the tree. Or, maybe my dad just told me that to shut me up.

For me, Christmas was, and is, all about the lights. Colored lights. None of those bland, tasteful white lights for me. I want to see color in the dark. And I want to see that color reflected in the tinsel. My husband doesn't like the tinsel and whines about it every year. But frankly, I don't think he has any right to complain since he never really helps with the tree or any of the decorating.

My husbands uncle's wife (not to be confused for my husband's aunt - she's younger than me) puts up her Christmas decorations the day after Halloween. It must be a massive undertaking and I have to assume it takes days. I couldn't stand to look at Christmas that long. Apparently, neither can she, for they all come day the day after Christmas.

Our decorating tastes run in different directions. Mine are more traditional, less fiber-optic than hers. I like a formerly live tree, and the old fashioned lights that raise the temperature in the living room by at least five degrees, with the tinsel that you throw at the tree and it sits there in lovely unkempt clumps. Her tree is huge, artificial, and tastefully decorated. Her taste in general runs more toward country. Mine is more funky/eclectic which translates into the post-college-ran-out-of money-for-nice-furnishings category. Never mind that I don't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of years I've been out of college. There are one or two nice pieces. Some really good art and photos, and way too many books.

Maybe Santa will bring something nice for my home this year. Especially when he sees how nice my tree will look. Unless, of course, he trips over the trains on the floor. Then I may only get a law suit for Christmas.