Thanksgiving Day Plus One.

I would venture a guess that there are Thanksgiving left-overs in refrigerators all over the country. On the day after Thanksgiving, just about everyone is probably eating some sort of food that was cooked for yesterday's feast.

Instead of the usual whole turkey, I roasted a bone-in turkey breast.... easier to handle than the whole bird, and my husband isn't a fan of the dark meat anyway, so I don't see the point in buying an entire turkey just to make a Norman Rockwell centerpiece for the dining room table.

Thanksgiving isn't complete without pumpkin pie and sweet potatoes, in my opinion.... and if it were up to me, I'd be having lobster on Thanksgiving. Not much prettier than a turkey, but it tastes a lot better.  We were watching a cooking show and they featured a restaurant in Maine that made broiled stuffed lobsters. Now there's a Thanksgiving dinner for you!

Gorgeous day today.... it's getting warmer every day, and by the middle of next week, we'll be back up to 75 degrees, which means I can just wear one sweater, not two.  Don't laugh.  After months of 100 degrees, you'd be feeling the cold too when the thermometer drops down into the 40s during a cold snap.

Our friends V and B have recently moved from Texas to Colorado.... talk about cold.  V is a southern girl..... by the time they get two feet of snow in front of their new home, V is going to be wanting to learn how to knit.  My guess is that she'll knit a cocoon that will cover her from head to toe, and she won't want to come out of there till next July. 

 Thanksgiving "firsts" this year...... V and B with their first Thanksgiving in Colorado, and friends V and S just celebrated their first Thanksgiving with their new grandbaby.

More Black Friday Madness

This goes into the "Now I've Heard Everything" category......

On CNN this morning, there was a report about people already camping out in tents in front of the "Best Buy" stores.  They had generators to keep warm, food to eat, cots to sleep on.  As if that wasn't madness enough... and if adults want to do that, then fine, knock yourself out..... but they had their children with them. Small children bundled up in snow-suits and boots and hats and scarves.  One question for all of those adults:  "Are you out of your freaking mind?!"

So here's the Thanksgiving memory those parents are giving to their children:  Sleeping and eating in a tent in the parking lot of Best Buy for three days before Thanksgiving.  (And what are they doing for bathroom facilities when the store closes at night?)

And here's what those parents probably don't know:   Prices are inflated in those stores all year long, the planning of which begins the day after this Black Friday, so they'll be all set for next year's Black Friday.  So when they cut prices for this so-called best shopping day of the year, those prices are so inflated that even with the door-busting price tags, the stores are still making a huge profit.  And the losers are the customers, who more than likely are using credit cards and racking up bills..... and if they can't pay those bills in full by the end of January, they are wiping out whatever small percentage they think they have saved.

Honestly, is all of that worth sleeping in a tent on a concrete parking lot?  Give me a blessed break.

I absolutely hate, hate, hate what the retail world is doing to all of the holidays, with Christmas being at the top of that list.  But until everyone stays home and enjoys a Thanksgiving dinner with their family and friends, stores will continue to open their doors before most of us have had a slice of pumpkin pie after the turkey dinner.

"The Paper Bag Christmas"

I just finished reading this book last night, written by Kevin Alan Milne.  I found it in the thrift store last week, on their shelf filled with Christmas books, and it caught my eye because of the author's last name.  When I worked at the library up in New York, that was the last name of one of the librarians.  He was related to A. A. Milne, in a 'far off branch of the family tree,' as he used to say.  GM has passed away now... he was one of the nicest people to work with at that library, and I'm sure that his wife still misses her Prince, as she called him.

"The Paper Bag Christmas" is such a sweet and heart-warming story.  Two young brothers find out just what Christmas really means, and they learn what's most important to give as a gift or to write down on a list of suggestions for what they'd like Santa to bring them on Christmas Eve.  And there's a Christmas pageant in this story that will totally melt your heart.

This book had me laughing out loud in some chapters, and reaching for the tissues in others.  The characters are totally believable, and by the end of the book you'll be wishing that you could meet the two young boys and their family, and that the Santa character in the story could be your next-door neighbor.

This is just such a very nice book, to buy for yourself or to give as a gift. My copy is now upstairs in our third-floor library, on the shelf with my other Christmas books that I re-read every year from early November till after New Year's.  And, in case you're counting, there are just 31 days left till Christmas.

"What are you reading now?"

That's the question my husband always asks me when he sees me reading... and not a day goes by that I'm not reading.  I just finished "The First Phone Call From Heaven," by Mitch Albom.  Definitely a book that will now go up to the shelves in my third-floor library, alongside all of Albom's other books.

Ever since "Tuesdays With Morrie," I've read all books by this author.  His stories are all wonderful because they make you think, and all of them are filled with hope. What could be better than that?

I don't like to give away endings of books, so I won't talk much about "The First Phone Call...."  The title and the author's name got me to buy the book, the essence of the story and its characters made it hard to put the book down, and the hope and belief that the premise of the story could be true is what made me think. And think again.

No one wants a loved one to die. No matter what you believe about death and what comes after that last breath, it's the not really knowing for certain is what makes everyone so afraid.

That old song by The Beatles came to mind while I was reading this book....  the words "Love is all there is...."

And one sentence from this book that won't leave me for a while:  "When you believe, you don't need proof."

If you haven't read any of Mitch Albom's books, start by reading "Tuesdays With Morrie."  Whenever I find a copy of that book (or any of his others) I buy it and put it in my "Free Books To a Good Home" basket that I keep in the kitchen by the back door.  I'm always telling friends and neighbors to "take a book.... take two!"   And I always smile when they pick up one of Albom's.

Christmas Decorators Anonymous.

If there's a 12-step program for people who can't stop decorating for Christmas, then I think I may need to sign up.  Christmas has exploded in this house, and I am guilty as charged.

First came the Christmas mice.  I had just two porcelain Christmas mouse figurines, as cute as can be, bought years and years ago in New York.  They were made by Josef Originals, and are very collectible and sought after on eBay.  Last year, I found three more porcelain Christmas mice in the thrift store..... last week, I found five more.  They're not Josef Originals, but they're vintage and adorable, and of course they'll never see my booth at the antique shop because I don't plan on selling them.  Especially because I found this little porcelain plaque at the thrift store this morning that says "Not a creature was stirring..."   Well, if that doesn't belong with my parade of Christmas mice..... and that's where it is right now.  In order to get the full effect of the little plaque and all the mice, I had to do some serious re-arranging on the tables in the living room.

Then.... just when I thought it was safe to go back into that living room...... this afternoon, our neighbor G gave me two boxes of vintage mercury glass ornaments.... each round ornament has the tiniest tear-drop shape at the bottom, and a dusting of glass snow at the top, near the hook of the ornament.  Very different, very old, and so very worthy of their own tree.  I have a gold feather tree in the living room, and I had vintage beaded satin ornaments on that tree.... the kind made in the 1950s and 1960s, with beads and sequins and pins.  My aunts used to make those years ago, so when I found a box of them at an estate sale, I decided to keep them all for that gold tree.

However..... the antique glass ornaments from G.... they're now hanging on that gold feather tree and looking as if they were always meant to be right where they are.  All of the beaded ornaments are now in a box, and I will sell those at my antique shop booth. (25 ornaments in, 25 ornaments out.)

The house looks beautiful... decorating this big old house is like decorating a doll house, except we can actually live in it.  I keep walking through the living room even when I don't need to now, just to look at those mercury glass ornaments... so pretty, and so protected by G's wife over the years. I'm guessing they're from the 1940s... each one was wrapped up in a cocoon of tissue paper. Neighbor G told me that his wife boxed up them more years ago than he can remember.   I was thrilled and surprised that he wanted us to have them.  "You have all of that antique-y stuff... these will fit right in."

They do indeed..... and I'm guessing those snow-dusted glass ornaments are very happy to be out of that tissue paper and ready to sparkle through another Christmas season. (And another, and another....)

Black Friday.

Here it comes once again... that monster shopping day known from the rocky coast of Maine to the sandy coast of California, and all points inbetween.   Black Friday.

I have just one thing to say:  Give me a blessed break.

There isn't a bone in my body that wants to go shopping on the day after Thanksgiving.  Not shopping for groceries, and certainly not shopping for Christmas gifts.  I've never been out in that Black Friday madness, nor do I ever intend to go.

And, just a thought..... doesn't it strike you as odd that people rush into retail stores the minute they unlock the doors, along with thousands of other midnight-shoppers, with no thought of civility or politeness or kindness.... just so they can buy more things the very day after Thanksgiving when they have said "Grace" over a family meal and counted their blessings for all that they already have?!  

What bothers me most is that in the midst of all this shopping madness, which either starts at midnight on Thanksgiving evening or at dawn on Thanksgiving morning, the entire sense of the holiday is being lost. Forever lost and forgotten and pushed aside as if it were just another day of the year.  Before too long, the generations coming up won't be celebrating anything except the opening of a new retail store.

Thanksgiving will be a memory.... so will Christmas Day.  Only in the smallest of the small towns do shop-owners lock their doors and stay home with their families so their employees can stay home and enjoy the day with their families. 

Money is the deciding factor here, and the bottom line.  If these huge retail stores can make good money by opening extra hours on holiday-days, then they're going to unlock their doors at all hours.  And the reason they make such money is that so many hundreds of thousands, and thousands of millions of people are willing to fight over parking spaces and argue over places on line.... all to get whatever gift is state-of-the-art or trend-of-the-moment.  And stores will continue to be open on holidays because there are always people willing to shop and buy and shop more and buy more.

I liked it better when stores were closed on days like Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's....... when everyone believed in the special-ness of certain days.... when you knew that if your Christmas shopping wasn't done by 3:00 on Christmas Eve afternoon, then it wasn't going to get done because the stores would close early.

Grandma's Candy Dish.

When I was a kid, there was a clear glass candy dish on my grandmother's dining room table. That candy dish was always in one particular spot on that table, and was only moved to the sideboard when the dining table was set for a Sunday or holiday family dinner. In all the years of my childhood and adulthood, for all the years the family lived in Grandma's house, that same candy dish was always there..... never to be replaced with a newer, better, larger one.

The candy dish (bowl shaped) was round with a flat base... the pattern in the glass was diamonds and half-moon shapes, and Aunt Dolly called it "Depression Glass."  All of us cousins didn't know what that meant in the 1950s and 1960s, but as with everything else in that house, we were careful with it.  Careful to the point that we could all get the lid off of that dish without making a sound, but once we had a piece of candy in our hands, it was just about impossible to put the lid back onto the top of that bowl without making that 'clinking' sound of glass on glass.

Both my grandmother and my Aunt Dolly had perfect hearing. No matter where they were in that big old house, they never missed the sound of that candy dish lid being put back onto the bottom of the bowl. "Who's in that candy dish? You're going to spoil your dinner! I hope you're taking just one piece, not three!"  Every one of the cousins in my generation tried (and tried again) to get the lid off and on that candy dish without making a solitary sound. We all quickly learned how to get the lid off the bowl without making a sound, but we all failed at getting that lid back down silently onto the round bowl.  We all came to the conclusion that it was just impossible, and considered it a fact of life. But that didn't stop us all from trying every time we walked through the dining room when an adult wasn't in sight.

One piece meant just that--- one piece, whether the bowl of that candy dish was filled with M&Ms or with chocolate kisses or miniature Hershey bars. One piece.  Candy corn filled that bowl in the month of October, bright ribbon candy or peppermints were in the bowl for December and January.  Most of the time, it was M&Ms because both Aunt Dolly and my dad just loved the M&M candies.         

Who in the world can take just one M&M? I'll tell you who--- my Aunt Dolly, that's who.  And when she opened up that candy dish and saw the M&Ms, she would look at the colors and choose just one red or one yellow or one brown.  One M&M!  Quite possibly, and most likely, that's why today, at 100 years old, Aunt Dolly is still a size 4.

In my daily travels, I like nothing better than browsing through antique and resale stores, and thrift stores. There are treasures to found in all those places.... and resale-store treasures aren't likely to be one of a thousand, they're more likely to be one or two of a kind. 

A couple of months ago in our local thrift store, I found an exact duplicate of my grandmother's glass candy dish.  Same pattern on the clear Depression Glass (and of course my generation knows what Depression Glass is now)..... and there wasn't a scratch or a chip on either the bowl or the lid of that candy dish.  Could that be possible?  Of course it was possible.... my Aunt Dolly still has that candy dish to this day, and there's not a scratch or a chip on hers either.  Whoever had this particular candy dish took as good care of it as Aunt Dolly and the family always did.

The price on that vintage candy dish was just $2.00.... I would have paid ten times that price without blinking an eye, but the two dollar price made the prize even better because it was such a bargain.  On the way home that afternoon, I bought a bag of Dove chocolates for the candy dish.

I soaked the glass lid and bowl in warm sudsy water..... rinsed it and dried it...... and put that sparkling candy dish on my dining room table.  Not exactly in the same spot as the identical candy dish had been placed on Grandma's table, but awfully close.  Then I filled it with the gold-foil-covered Dove chocolates, put the lid on, and ooohed and aaahed over it.  Aunt Dolly would be proud. I sent my cousin F an eMail to tell her of my special treasure, and we reminisced over the opening and closing of the candy dish on Grandma's table all those years ago.  "Were you ever able to get the lid back on without Aunt Dolly catching you?"     "No way. You?"  

Later that evening after dinner, I decided to take a piece of chocolate from my 'new' candy dish. I walked into the dining room, took one square of the Dove chocolate, and then, without even thinking about it, I found myself trying to replace the lid without making a sound.  Cliiiink went the top glass as it touched the bottom glass...... still impossible to do.  But it made me smile, to think that my mind was still conditioned to try and put the top glass back onto the bottom glass without it making a sound.  This candy dish has brought back so many memories, and in my mind's eye, I can still see all of my cousins as they looked fifty years ago, standing by Grandma's dining room table and trying to silently put the lid back down on Grandma's candy dish.

Re-tired.

As of yesterday, my car has four new tires.  Ouch.  Not for the new tires, but for the price of the new tires.  I didn't even get the best of the best tires, either.  Since we moved out here to the Hill Country, my car very rarely gets close to a freeway, never mind driving on one.  I didn't think I needed top-drawer Michelin rubber on those wheels for just around-small-towns kind of mileage.

For the money, though, you would think they would have cleaned off the wheels, hubcaps, or whatever those silver things are.  How do you put road-dirty silver rim-things back onto new tires? Must be a guy thing.  There's a place in town that hand-washes and 'details' cars.  I may splurge and bring my car there one of these days.  While I look around the shops in town, they can be making my car extra-clean and sparkling, rather than the quick hand-washes that I give my car in the driveway here.

I took my car to one of those drive-thru car washes a few months ago... it came out beautifully clean, but as I was driving away, the engine started to make a strange noise and one of the engine lights went on.  I don't know much about cars, but I know enough to realize that's not a good thing.  I turned around and went back to the car wash, which was connected to the oil change place.   When I told them about the noise, they had no idea what it could be, and suggested I drive down the road to a car mechanic. (I guess those quick oil change places don't hire mechanics?)

As they suggested, I drove down the road to the car repair/tire place... they hooked up the car to some computer thing and within minutes they found the problem.  That car wash was so intense that water got up into one of the cylinder-things, which was making that cylinder 'miss,' giving out that awful noise.  They had to open up whatever it is that contains the cylinders, dry it out, close it back up.... and then my car was back to sounding normal again.  I'm the only one who drives my car, so I know every little whisper and wiggle of that baby.

While the mechanic was doing all of the above, he checked the hoses, gaskets, tires, connections, and a bunch of other things I know nothing about.  The only problem he found was the tires.... factory tires that were nearly 8 years old.  "Change those tires before they start giving you problems," is what he suggested.  He didn't care that my car had very low mileage, baby that it is.  "It's the age of the tires, not the mileage you're putting on them.... rubber has a sensitive shelf life and the older it gets, the more it breaks down inside.... unless you know how to fix a flat, you're going to want new tires on that vehicle."

I resisted the urge to tell that man that I didn't know how to change a tire, nor did I want to learn.  All of that was back in July.... and yesterday was new-tire day for my car.  I won't be going back to the quick oil change place......... since 'discovering' this new repair place, with mechanics who can find a problem with your car and check for other things before they become problems, I'm going to just stay with these guys.  Plus, one of our friends works there, and other friends use those mechanics for repairs and tires as well.

Still...... for the ugly appearance of rubber tires, do they really have to cost that much?  I know they're an essential part of the car... without them, you're not going anywhere...  but you would think they could come up with a prettier tire.  Something in basic black, of course, but with a white-wall sort of design that could be color-matched to your vehicle?  Just saying.....

Texting... one... two....

For someone who really didn't know how to send a text on my cell phone, I do believe I have got it down pat now.  And the reason for my new-found talent....... all the texts that C and I have been sending back and forth since she got her horse.

When C told me that the horse had been named "Hatchet," I wasn't all that thrilled.  Even though I know perfectly well that it's her horse, I also know perfectly well that she would never have chosen that name, especially for such a sweet horse.

Back and forth the texts have been going, from my phone in the Hill Country to her phone in Clear Lake... sometimes starting at 6:00 in the morning.  C has been waking up at 4:00 every day and then spending at least an hour with her horse before she gets to work in the morning.  She's young and in love, without a doubt.

She wanted an American Indian sounding name, and also something that could possibly keep "Hatch" in the name, which is what she has been calling her horse, instead of that awful "Hatchet."  (Who names a horse after a weapon anyway?)   C and I have been sending texts back and forth for two days now...... just one word texts with a possible name.   Cinnamon?  Cheyenne? Comanche? Moonstruck? Geronimo? Apache? Navajo? Butterscotch?  (I'm sure C fell down laughing when I texted that one. Her horse is a butterscotch color, which is why I suggested it.)

Very late last night, C sent me another one word text.  "Tallahatchie."  She didn't put a question mark after that name, so I knew it was the one.   I said the name out loud a few times before replying to her text.  Sounds like an American Indian name.  It keeps the 'Hatch' in the name so the horse won't get too confused.  And just about anything would sound better to me than Hatchet.

So Tallahatchie it is...... and his official birthday is now November 8th, which is the day that C got  the signed adoption papers for her horse.  In my book of "Birthdays to Remember," I wrote down Tallahatchie on the page for the 8th of November.

At 6:00 this morning, my cell phone chimed as a text message came in..... before I even looked at the phone, I knew it was from C.

C:  Today is National Adoption Day.
L:  Great. I will adopt both you and Tallahatchie.
C:  Yaaaay.   :)

Merry Christmas....

.... and don't even tell me that the above phrase is not politically correct, because all of the blasted politicians aren't "correct" either, in my opinion.

With Christmas coming soon.... just 49 days away.... I do wish that everyone who celebrates the 25th of December would go back to saying "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays." 

Hasn't "Merry Christmas" worked well for decades and decades?  Those who don't celebrate Christmas don't have to say anything at all.... but for those of us who do celebrate the Christmas season, shouldn't we be able to say so without getting blasted for it?

We all say "Happy Halloween" without a problem, making the 31st day of October separate and distinct from every other day in that month.  Same goes for February--- we all say "Happy Valentine's Day" without a problem.  And what about Saint Patty's Day?  Is wearing a shamrock on March 17th going to give a whole group of people something else to complain about?

So why on this blessed earth do we all of a sudden have to give up saying "Merry Christmas" because non-Christmas-celebrating people don't want anyone else in the world to use that phrase?

Give us all a blessed break.

Merry Christmas!... 49 days early, and to all a good night.

A horse with no name....

Our special young friend C called me early this morning.... I could tell she was practically bouncing on the other end of the phone but couldn't for the life of me figure out her surprise.  Something tells me I should have known....

"I bought a horse..... I bought a horse!"    As I said, I should have known.

C loves any and all animals.  Especially horses. And after a summer-long job in Yellowstone that ended in September... a job that had her riding horse-back as a trail guide.... C really truly missed her Yellowstone horse and the daily riding.  She's been thinking and looking and searching for her own horse probably since the minute her feet touched ground in Houston after the flight back from Wyoming in early September.

C's horse is a butterscotch-colored 8-month-old horse that she bought from Habitat for Horses, where she spent countless hours over the years working with and taking care of their horses.  C's first post-college "big girl" job now has her working in an office, making enough money to not only buy her own horse but to rent stable space not far from where she lives and works.  She told me this morning that she'll be saving up to buy a horse trailer so she can bring her horse up here when she comes up for weekend visits.

Via my cell phone, C sent me a photo of her horse.... it's a male who has been gelded... cute as can be, with that butterscotch color that is just so pretty to look at. C says that she and the horse have already bonded, and now she needs to think up a name.  The horse had been given the name "Hatchet," which is a horrible name for such  a sweet-looking horse, and I suggested to C that she think up a new name that would suit both the horse and herself.

For half of the afternoon, we were texting names back and forth:
C:  Tomahawk?
L:  No... sounds too much like Hatchet.  How about a horse named Sprinkles?!
C:  It's a boy, not a girl.... plus I'd like a western name.
L:  Cheyenne or Comanche?
C:  Too many horses here already with those names. Something different. Arrow?
L:  Too common.  Apache? Navajo?
C:  No. No.  How about Wildfire, like that song?
L:  How about Copacabana, like that song?
C:  Get serious. I need a western or American Indian name.

I spent almost an hour looking at Internet sites for names for horses.  A lot of the names of Indian tribes sounded like they would work, and I sent some of those suggestions to C.  I also came up with names that reflected the horse's coloring, like Butterscotch, Buttercup, and Topaz..... C told me that the other horses would bully him if she gave him any of those names.  I resisted the urge to suggest that if there were bully-horses in those stables, then she needs to find a different stable.

C has now added "Biggio" to her list of possible names for her horse.  For the non-Texans, and non-baseball fans out there, Craig Biggio was a very popular player on the Houston Astros and C loved him for years and years..... so much so that every time she signed the guest book in our house, she would sign "C---- Biggio" instead of using her real last name.  (I love looking through the old guest books.... we have her signature starting when she was in the 2nd grade..... and now C is 22.... we were the only people she knew who had a guest book by the front door and C signed it every single time she walked into our old house, and she's still signing our guest book here.)

Anyway..... back to naming the horse.   My guess is that a sweet-sounding name isn't in the future for C's sweet-faced horse.  She wants something western, Texan, or American Indian.... something with meaning, something unique, something that will tell everyone that that horse is Miss C's, and no one else's.  I guess "Barry Manilow" isn't going to make C's short list of names.

Christmas break.....

... that's what I'm doing at the moment... taking a break from the Christmas decorations.  I've been taking boxes out of the storage closet since the day after I took down the Halloween decorations.  Just in case you're wondering... there are 51 days left till Christmas.

I've been buying Christmas gift-boxes whenever I see them at the thrift and resale shops...... nice heavy boxes of all sizes and shapes, decorated as if they've been wrapped inside and out with Christmas paper.  I use those boxes to store the decorations.... as each box comes out of the closet and I take out the decorations, the empty boxes then become part of the décor--- placed around the rooms as if Santa got here extra-early with gifts.  The best part... into those empty boxes, I can put the decorative items that I've taken from tables and shelves to make room for the Christmas decorations.  Saves lots of trips back and forth to the storage closet.... plus with the decorated boxes, it's quick and easy to see where the Christmas decorations are in that maze of a closet.

Perfect day for transforming the house into a Christmas wonderland..... it's raining lightly outside, not a drop of sun.... and I'm all caught up with the laundry.  A day without laundry.... wonder of wonders. That magic will end with the first towel that gets used or the first shirt that gets tossed into the hamper. 

One more Christmas tree to put up in the living room.... the 1950s silver aluminum tree.  Never thought I'd have one of those in my house.  The first silver tree I ever saw was in my Aunt Jaye's house when I was a kid. She loved her silver tree because it was neat and tidy... not one green pine needle would ever fall on her pale pink carpeting.  Plus, she didn't even have to put ornaments on it because of the color-wheel..... just plug that in at the base of the tree and all those colors made the silver tree appear to be filled with glass ornaments.  Not exactly my idea of a Christmas tree when I was a kid.

About eight years ago, my husband and I found an aluminum tree in a resale shop.... perfect condition in its original box, for about $35, with the color-wheel.  I bought it with the intention of selling it at the antique shop. (Famous last words.)   When I got it home and assembled it (for the shop, mind you), it was just so pretty and nostalgic that I couldn't part with it.  The tree stayed right in our house, but I did sell the color-wheel at the shop, for more than what we paid for both the tree and the wheel.

So the silver tree has become part of our Christmas décor.  I've collected antique glass ornaments for it over the years and I keep those in a special box just for that particular tree because they're light-weight and won't bend the delicate branches.  I told my Aunt Jaye this whole story a couple of years ago, and I asked her if she still put up her aluminum tree for the holidays. She told me that she donated her silver tree to the church years ago when she stopped decorating for Christmas.  When I told her how much those 1950s aluminum trees are worth, she was sorry she didn't keep it.

I have a photograph of my cousin T (Aunt Jaye's daughter) and myself.... it was taken before we started first grade, and we're standing in front of Aunt Jaye's silver tree in our Christmas dresses, each of us holding a gift and smiling into the camera.  T is holding a doll wearing a blue dress, and I've got a stuffed puppy in my arms.  I remember that puppy toy... it looked like a small Collie and it had a leash, and if you walked slowly enough and held the leash just-so, the dog's legs would move as if it were walking. 

Nostalgia. That's what keeps all of the antique shops in business.  You don't go into those shops looking for any particular item..... you just look around until something starts nibbling at your memory, and that's usually the thing that you end up buying.

In case you're counting....

.... there are just 55 more days till Christmas.

With that happy thought in mind this morning, I started decorating for Christmas.   The Halloween decorations have been put away, so before I have the chance to get used to an un-embellished house, out came the Christmas boxes.  I have small trees for every room of the house, so it will take over a week or so to get everything out of the closet and around the house.

First thing out of the closet was the nearly life-sized Nutcracker..... he's standing guard by the fireplace this year and I think he likes the view.  I try not to put things in the same places each year, especially the little trees.  And this will be the first Christmas for the third-floor library, and I've got to make a tree for that room.  I've been looking around for an old-fashioned feather tree for up there.... shouldn't be too hard to find in a town filled with antique and resale shops, wouldn't you think?                                                                                                

I've got miniature books that I made from very small book-shaped gift boxes that my cousin F sent to me from NY.  (She found them in a Dollar Store in Port Jefferson soon after the library was finished.)  The 'books' were fun to make.... in the thrift store, I found vintage paperbacks of the classics and I sacrificed the paperbacks to make ornaments out of those little boxes.  I cut the covers to fit the front, back, and spine of each book-shaped box... and now all those little boxes look just like palm-sized books.  Now I just have to find the perfect tree to put those books on.  And I'm hoping the Book Police don't come after me for cutting up those old paperbacks. (Bad book karma, I know.)

Christmas is always such a happy time, and it really doesn't last all that long. Especially if things are left for the last minute and then you find yourself rushing through the season.  Christmas is meant to be enjoyed.... just 'getting it over and done with' is not exactly what the Christmas season is all about.  (Come to think of it, that's not even what life is all about.)                                                              

After the decorating is all done, I will go through my collection of Christmas books and start reading those.... I try to read nearly all of them every year between the mid-November and New Year's Eve. 

As I'm typing this, my husband is working at his computer in his office across the hall.... he's listening to Christmas music in there.  I guess he really did notice the decorations that I've already taken out of the storage closet. The song that's playing right now in his office is "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer."  Oh well.... I wonder if that's bad Christmas karma.