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That’s about it for today! My resolutions are pretty much always what I’m trying to do anyway, so I just nod my head and say, “Here we go again!”
Happy New Year to all – and here’s to great adventures in 2026.
Every once in a great while that little bug hits my daughter – and I am gladly roped in. “Yes! Let’s do it!”
The craft looked easy and fun and I had all of the necessary ingredients for actually following the directions and doing it correctly! (Except for the styrofoam cones which I did purchase on a late night run to Wal-Mart.)
The hope:
The reality:
The leaning-pointless-trees-of-Christmas! They do stack nicely and the little girls loved playing with them.
Ah, the joys of the season.
…are hard at work. Dishwasher running yet again and washing machine catching up to the loads left unattended. Per my usual end-of-year routine I am burning the remnants of the tapers I lit for all of the festivities, sending up a prayer with each. I’m also staring at the kitchen floor, deciding when to tackle the signs of a worthy celebration week.
Ah…this glorious weather beckons…perhaps a mere walk will suffice?
When hosting a party centered around music, ‘tis imperative to have “ringers” in the crowd.
Kudos to the people who merrily led us: In the category of Latin and German verses, “Pois,” the Category of Californian chick, “Parbara,” who sang the intro for “White Christmas,” the fearless emcee who kept us moving, “Patherine,” (May she forever center her Christmas holiday around my party!) the determined neighbor who kept up with “Feliz Navidad” when I screwed it up, “Parsha,” the strong male voice who rang out loudly, “Patthew,” and of course the fabulous instrumentalists who covered up most of my mistakes! “Pom, Pen, Pordan, Pachel, “Pandi.”
It was great to have that lovely off-the-beat cowbell on “O Holy Night” by the way. Next year the coveted instrument will be out of sight! In a few years those little fingers will hopefully be playing strings or the piano. Oh! And next year – I’ll be sure to have the reader glasses more readily available for this aging crowd.
Happy last Tuesday of Advent!
Do you suppose the little thing I swept up from the kitchen floor is excited to have been dumped outside in this glorious weather? It’s a bit of a reemergence for it, maybe a vacation?
I’m finished with the chili prep and cleaning, just sitting here with the door and windows open because it’s so gorgeous outside and I’m hot, dressed in a bit of winter attire. I figured a short, sleeveless dress would reveal the lily-white legs I’m sporting and the dental staff would be blinded from the moment I walked in this afternoon. Yes. Who makes a dental appointment before a party she’s hosting? (Thankfully we’ve done this enough times with enough of the same people who know my kitchen drawers and cupboards and are quite capable of helping themselves in all manner in the event I run late.) (But I will miss the coffee filter maids, “Pristina” and “Pat,” keeping my kitchen supplied as I flit about.)
Off to join that bug outside and cool off.
My kitchen. There is stuff everywhere and it is of my own doing. Piles. Crumbs that haven’t swept themselves up. Craft that didn’t make it home with the girls. Half-burning candles that are nearing the end of their lives. Pine boughs that are drying up with this lack of moisture, thus inhibiting my attempts at natural decor. Sweets galore in various stages of being consumed. A half-finished project of my own revolving around music books. And of course, Christmas cards on display. It’s a wonder I can find anything here.
Thus, today begins the great pre-Christmas clean up. Instead of top to-bottom, I am starting at the bottom and working my way up. Friday fun!
…for seven pillars. The movie, “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,” (which I loved!) came to mind this morning as I surveyed the premises. Apparently the wind gusts were as high at 109 mph in Boulder, and I don’t doubt they were the same here.
As I lay in bed listening to the house shudder and shake last night, I imagined the shingles flying off, those one-year old red bow decorations sailing through the skies, the house spinning and landing in Kansas, and of course, the Christmas lights gone wonky. Thankfully, Baby Jesus landed about twenty feet away on the berm in back, so I can retrieve him. Shingles remain intact, lights can be reset, no trees succumbed to the gale forces, and I guess I can find something else to tie on the front pillars. Oh! The newspaper ended up on the front lawn so I didn’t have to walk down the driveway this morning!
Kudos to anyone who slept through that.
…is a little girl in the “potty” book. We keep referring to her, and we have even confessed we have gone potty on the big potty. Is this true? Who knows?
The day is coming when two little ones will be vying for the coveted throne. I shall be looking to the mother for guidance on this one as two little Prudences are sometimes competitive.
Regardless, they sure are cute.
Nostalgia doesn’t visit me too often, but when the Christmas season rolls around and the “nuts” are out in the grocery store, I fondly recall my father sitting on the sofa cracking assorted nuts and using that little pick to dig the meat out. It was also a test of strength for us kids as we aged – could we crack the really hard ones? It was a contest and I’m sure my father feigned inability to muster that kind of fortitude.
Really, those nuts are a good reminder. First of all, they’re healthy and give a good minute or so of stress relief while handling the coveted nutcracker. But also, they are a nice metaphor for life, aren’t they? Some nuts are easier to crack than others, and some not as appealing. Some don’t produce much internally, and others just look awful, but are quite delicious. But really, they all have something to give. Oh, we people are much the same.
Just reminding myself of this as I look ahead to the bustling crowds, of which it seems we have an abundance.
(Especially with this unseasonably warm weather which is driving me nuts! I need some moisture.) Repeated refrain.