Author: Rene

Everyone should have “that person” who is in charge of the candles at your party. By that I mean, the responsible individual who notices when the greens in your lovely centerpiece are on fire.

Years ago I was alerted to a hazard on the fireplace mantel. My candles had dwindled and caught the two-week old greens-from-the-yearly-pruning on fire. As was customary in December, it was during the annual music party. I was playing the piano. This young middle school pup, “Patt,” alerted me before the alarm sounded. I went to the fireplace to find the beginnings of a fine conflagration. We doused it. The crisis was averted.

This only comes to mind as that young pup is now an adult at the Christmas music party. The first thing I requested of him when he walked in the door was that he be in charge of fire. (Eight candles, to be exact.). He laughed and took me seriously. (I only light tapers at Christmas, by the way.)

Luckily, only one candle had to be monitored and eventually succumbed. I reiterate – I was playing the piano, oblivious to the fire hazards I created. Thank you, “Patt.” You are a hero!

-15 makes it hat worthy today. As I age, I feel worse for the trees than I did for my children! These temperature drops wreak havoc on them in the following years. And it’s supposed to be near 60 next week with rain?

Oh, Mother Nature! You keep us on our toes.

Did you know that you can purchase international “forever” stamps? I did not. My sister informed me of this fact as she has yearly postal needs for England.

Every Christmas I stand in line to mail letters and cards overseas. I dread it. However, yesterday I only had four people in front of me and I was thrilled. When I got to the counter, my friendly postal worker informed me that I could use three “forever” stamps next time and avoid him. Or, I could go online to purchase the “forever” international stamps. I just smiled and told him I didn’t want to avoid him and just wanted to see his friendly face, but I would keep that information for next year. (He really is a friendly guy.) We wished each other well and I left knowing I could do just about anything philatelically on my own, which made me wistful. Some of the fun of stamp collecting has definitely been lost with technology.

My PSA? Everyone needs my sister. She also told me Amazon sells stamps. Have a frustrating issue? Call her!

(In the style of Niall Horan)

Nice to meet ‘ya
What’s your name?
Here’s your pizza
Glad I came?

Weather’s crappy
Here’s your food
I’m the brave one
I’m the dude

Pay no attention
To those peeps
They’re crazy family
Love them heaps

They were bored so
They rode along
Getting real tired of
My mother’s songs

Now I know why 
I love this job
Takes me far from
The madding mob

Next time you order
Don’t be dumb
Tip that driver
A hefty sum

In our family, there is always “that present.” It’s the gift that is partially wrapped either due to a wrapping paper shortage, miscalculation on the part of the wrapper, desire to use scraps to cover ends that got missed, or loss of interest in the entire process. This has now become a time-honored tradition. Someone has to get a crappy looking gift.

My mother can account for part of this historical convention. She was thrifty and used every scrap available to cover our gifts. Of course, there was no running out to buy extra paper when we needed more. No Target store in sight. Did they even exist then? No. We always made do with what was on hand.

Currently, there are a few packages under my tree sporting a less-than-stellar look. The fashionable thought is that Amazon is to blame. The boxes are either too big to wrap or succumb to the mind of the wrapper. “Why wrap what is already boxed in earth-toned cardboard?”

Happy fourth week of Advent!

Yes, it’s that time of the year. The annual cookie baking day, now complete with an 18-month old assistant.

In preparation for the big event I went through the cookbooks and recipe box. As I viewed recipes saved for another day, I had the thought, “I’m never making these.” Out they went! It reminded me of my Pinterest board, which also has things pinned which I am never going to make.

Just paring down the collections as we near the year’s end.

It’s fairly difficult to keep a blog going when you forget to charge your devices! Once I figured out I had no juice, it was too late. Then, my little sponge-of-a-grandchild was here, and I proceeded to give her more to soak in. (I think I taught her a new word – “yikes!”)

The only thing of quirky and mundane value was a chance to hear “the Pips.” Gordon and Gladys are both iconic voices and I was fortunate to be able to blast “Midnight Train to Georgia,” on the car stereo and sing to my heart’s content.

And you were all fortunate to not be in the car with me.

“Carefree Highway,” “If you Could Read My Mind,” “Sundown,” and of course, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” I always like Gordon Lightfoot’s voice, and I think I can sing of the legend that lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee. Yes, it’s a favorite song to blast when I’m on the road and it’s a guarantee it will show up on an eight-hour drive.

This cartoon gave me a chuckle and reminded me of my appreciation for Gordon. Now I can’t get the song out of my head.

…that’s the sign of a successful luncheon! That and 13 cloth napkins, a gunky soup pot, and an errant spoon needing a home.

The annual bridge “tournament” was a lovely event. I don’t know that my card playing has improved over the past ten years, but it sure has been fun to keep at it. Thanks to Mom for encouraging me, Parbara for teaching us, and the gaggle for making it happen.

Now the season has officially been inaugurated! Happy Third Week of Advent.

Remember writing prompts in English class? “Describe this photo.” “Tell a story using this photo.”

That’s what this strange image brought to mind. As I cleaned the window well in my new boots, having just returned from the hair salon, my live-in photographer thought to snap this gem. It’s so weird-looking, yet entirely plausible in the realm of Fall-duties-which-need-to-be-done-this-minute. No changing clothes or waiting a moment more. No going to a fancy dinner with a new hairstyle. Nope. Slap on a hat, find an old mask and climb in a window well with shiny new boots.

Thankfully, there were no rodent carcasses to deal with and only one threatening spider who now lives in the shop-vac. At least the boots and gloves matched.