Helloooo 2012!

So, how was everyone's December? Sorry I disappeared there, right after Thanksgiving. I got all involved in gift-shopping and wrapping stuff.  Then my colleague retired and we had a party for her. Then there was more gift-shopping, gift-wrapping, gift-sending (to Virginia and California), cookie-baking, and bam! It was Christmas.

That's "bam!" literally, by the way. I woke up Christmas morning in the dark with a leg cramp. Just walking to the kitchen to get ice to put on it made it go away. That should have been the warning that things were not going to go my way that day. Did I heed said warning? No, I did not. Later on that day, while sitting in my sister's basement rec room and still in my jammies, I took a mouthful of coffee and choked on it--sort of. I tried to swallow at exactly the same moment my body decided to cough. Turned myself into a coffee fountain.  It made a mess of my clothes, so I went upstairs to change and throw things into the washer, which is kept out in the garage.

The floor of the garage is lower than the floor of the rest of the house.  It's too steep for a regular step, so to mitigate this some previous owner (or maybe the builder) put in a little step between the door sill and the garage floor. I've been in this house a number of times before and never had trouble remembering it was there. This time I missed it completely and went "bam!" right down. Actually, I'm not sure if I missed it, slipped, or only caught half of the step. It all happened very fast. I was talking over my shoulder to my Mom, with one hand on the door, when down I went.  Pulled the door shut behind me with extreme violence, slammed into the metal cabinet that was to the right of me, screamed out, "Son of a b!tch!" (but apparently no one heard that over all the other noise) and then just sat there on the floor, stunned.

Mom came to see why I'd slammed the door so hard and found me sitting on the step I'd missed, rubbing my right ankle. I asked for ice, which she went and got while I sat there listening to the memory of my voice screaming "Son of a b!tch!" It started me giggling (every time I remember it, I giggle again. I did just now, writing that). This turned into full-blown hysterical laughter, complete with tears. I'm glad my default reaction is to laugh in situations like this. My mom came back with the ice, and we both sat there: me laughing and icing my ankle, she rubbing my back and (probably) wondering if I needed an X-ray. It was mentioned a few times, but I decided against it. My sister loaned me an Ace bandage (which I'm still wearing), and I spent the rest of the day either hobbling around or sitting somewhere with my foot in the air. The next day we went to New Jersey to have lunch with my Dad's brother and his family, then on the 27th we all went home.

Here's what the ankle looked like two days later:


Pretty, no? I think Crayola should make a crayon color called "Ouch, My Ankle!" (not pictured: other side of ankle, which looked pretty much the same as this)

Since then I've been (for the most part) hanging out on the couch with my foot in the air, either watching TV or listening to audiobooks while I embroider. Right now (well, not right now, obviously) I'm listening to Middlemarch, as read by Juliet Stevenson.  She's excellent. I did make a couple of excursions outdoors, mainly to get necessities (milk, coffee filters, lunch meat), or, once the ankle felt strong enough to use, to take myself to lunch on New Year's Eve.  I thought I'd better go out then, because the bus wouldn't be running on either the 1st or the 2nd of January and I really should see a person or two before holing up for a few days.  I was going to go out today as well, but they're calling for snow, with a wind chill of 0 or even -5, so I'm staying right here, thank-you-very-much. I might go to the mall tomorrow, mainly because I can (I'm off until next Monday) but also partly to buy calendars from the calendar-and-game kiosk that pops up every November and disappears by mid-January. I need two wall calendars. I never think to ask for them as Christmas presents.

So how was your December? And your New Year's Eve? Did anyone make any resolutions? I can't without breaking one a I made a long time ago never to make another new year's resolution. I have some things I'd like to do this year, but I'm not serious enough about them to be "resolved" to do them. I'd like to post more often than I have been. And I'd like this year to be "Handmade Christmas," since I kind of fizzled out last year around February. I ran out of ideas. I think I have a better handle on it now. We'll see.

Decorating for Christmas

I wonder if this is the year I will finally break down and get a tree.  Every year I think about doing it, and every year I balance the expense of buying an artificial tree against the cost of the presents I want to buy, and the tree idea gets scrapped for another year.

This year, however, I got a little something back from the mortgage company--interest from the escrow account that I guess they're not allowed to hang on to.  It isn't much, a little over $70, but it might make a tree look not-that-expensive.

Hmm.

It'd be nice to finally have something upon which to hang all these ornaments I've amassed over the years.  It doesn't have to be some huge monster of a tree--maybe something about four or five feet tall?  I'll take a look when I go out shopping, see if I can find something that won't break the bank.

Of course, I could use that extra money on presents...

It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark

I've decided that next year's big project is crossing off #37 on my Life List: handmade Christmas.  Every person on my Christmas list will receive a present handmade by me.  There will be other things going on, I'm sure, but #37 is the big goal right now.

To this end, I've started compiling a list of who's getting what.  I haven't sorted that out completely just yet, but there's one project I know I'm doing, and for whom.  In the next 5 minutes I'm going to start casting on stitches to work this wrap with this yarn (color #2, fawn) for my aunt.

And no, I haven't forgotten about/given up on the sweater.  I need something portable to work on for the next week or so, though, as I make my way to and from my sister's house.  This project will do nicely.

I know, I know.   Isn't it a skosh early to be thinking about Christmas 2011?  We haven't even gotten to Christmas 2010, for pity's sake. Yes.  Yes, it is.  But I just bit off a very large piece of something, and it's going to take a while to chew it thoroughly.  I have an awful lot to do; might as well get started.

There will be updates throughout the year (with pictures) except for things being made for people who read this blog (I'm looking at you, Mom.  And you, Ditter).  Don't want to spoil the surprise.

Wish me luck.  I hope I don't drive myself crazy.  Though that might be fun to watch too, huh?

Christmas season, Delilah, and Sophie

Last year, Delilah's failing health made it really hard to get into the Christmas spirit, or stay there very long when I did get there.

An example: all throughout Christmas Day, I kept forgetting to open the contents of my stocking (Yes.  At forty(mumble) I still get a stocking at Christmas. What?  Don't you?).  After dinner, I went to the room the cat and I were sleeping in so that I could fuss over her a bit, and to get her to maybe eat some canned salmon I'd bought for her.  She ate a little, then went back under the futon to lay on the heating vent.  I went out into the kitchen to put the plate in the sink and bumped into my mom.

"You never opened this," she said, holding up my bulging stocking.

I burst into tears, said something like "I can't do this anymore!" and fled back to the bedroom.  That was it, I was done.  No more Christmas, please.

She and my sister followed me, let me sob it out, fussed over Delilah some (she came out to see what all the noise was about, I think, and to see who had come to visit) and eventually did get me to open my stocking.

I never got any cookies baked for the same reason.  The thought would cross my mind to do it, then the cat would come into the room with her poor little face, hop up into my lap, and I'd decide to just stay put.  One time she climbed up my chest and stretched out, chin on my shoulder, purring in my ear.  I sat contorted for her maximum comfort for over an hour, tears streaming down my face, thinking this is probably the last time we'll do this.  I was right.

 It took a lot of effort to do what I considered the bare minimum.  I'm surprised people got presents at all, the way I was feeling.

This year is better.  I'm glad Sophie's here, because otherwise I'd be doing a lot of moping and remembering last year--more than what I'm doing right now, that is.  Sophie's interested in all the the goings-on.  She inspects the results of every shopping trip, and I fully expect her to supervise present-wrapping when I start that.

Just as soon as I post this I'll start making cookies.  A lot of these first batches are getting wrapped up and given away.  The raspberry bar cookie from 2 years ago is making an appearance. So is a peppermint meringue cookie that someone I work with really, really likes.  I'm going to make a peanut butter cup cookie that uses itty bitty muffin tins.  I'm going to try biscotti too, and that means the very first thing I have to do is toast almonds.  Well.  The very first thing I have to do is look up how to toast almonds, because they don't give instructions in the recipe.  Google, here I come.

If I don't run out of steam, I'll be trying a molasses cookie recipe that I found through the Pioneer Woman's Cookie Week.  As soon as I check for my cookie cutters, that is.  I think I have Christmas ones.  I used to.  Maybe.  I know I gave some cookie cutters away, but I don't think it was all of them.  Ah, well.  I can always use the mouth of a glass, right?  I'm also making something called chocolate-covered cherry cookies, but not today; I forgot to buy the cherries. 

After I finish making the ones I'm giving as gifts, I'll go make a second set to take to my sister's.  There will be more raspberry bars (last time I brought them Ditter told me they tasted like an Entenmann's raspberry danish.  For those not in the know, that is high praise indeed), those chocolate cherry things, and the molasses cookies (by then I will have either found or bought new cutters).

Wish me luck!  Some of these I've never tried before.  I'll photograph the results.

Edited to add:  Didn't have to go as far as the Internet to find out how to toast almonds. There are instructions on the package.  Yay!

Extra post--the ranting edition

I am getting really mad at the radio right now. As I was drinking my coffee and trying to organize the day, John & Yoko's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" came on the radio. It didn't register for a moment, and then...what? Christmas music? It's not December! We haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving yet! Dammit, marketers, quit rushing Christmas!

And then I calmed down. This station is on a satellite feed until 6 am. Maybe once the DJs come on we'll get sensible music.

Nope. Ten minutes ago they played some schmaltzy pop-duet version of "Silver Bells." That's it. I'm going to iTunes, where I can control the play list.

Look, I get that the economy stinks, and that retailers are running in place waiting for Black Friday to get here to save them. I have to say, though, that the more they ram this "Christmas is coming! Buy! Buy! BUY!" crap down my throat, the more I want to give everyone homemade cookies, handmade soap and scarves I knit myself. Part of it is the mulishness that is me. I find that even if I'm half inclined to do something, if someone tries to push me into doing it I will balk just to prove I won't be pushed. This got me teased a lot in high school. I didn't dress "cool." I got teased for it. So I went out my way to not dress "cool." Screw them, I thought. Same with music. I liked classical music. In middle school someone found out about it, and passed the word around. I then refused to listen to anything but WFLN (which was Philly's classical station at the time) or WXPN (for The Thistle and Shamrock, or for their in-house folk program called The Unicorn).

But another part of it is that I'm really tired of all the tinsel and the sparkle and the plastic and the piped-in music. "Victorian" Christmas may be more picturesque, but I'm sick of that as well. That's just commercialism from 200 years ago. It looks more dignified because it's older, that's all.

I used to think of Halloween as the last firewall between Christmas and the rest of the calendar, but that's not true any more either. It's starting to bleed through. This year I saw a lot of Halloween and Christmas displays side by side.

Maybe I'm just grumpy because I'm tired. I don't know. I do know that I'm not ready for a month of Christmas carols, and now they're starting early! I want to smack someone.

I guess I'll go scrub the tub. I'm in a bad mood anyway.

Can't wrap this

I could've used this a few days ago. All the Virginia and (now) California relatives got their presents mailed to them earlier this week. Monday night was spent sweating and swearing over wrapping paper, while the cat looked on in amusement.

“Can't Wrap This” video at DanceJam.com

Ah, yes.

The "California relatives" were "Germany relatives" until earlier this year. My Air Force cousin finally saw reason and is getting himself retrained again so that he can go back to babysitting the nuclear warheads. It's kind of scary when the safest place to be right now is next to the missile silo, no?

The cat's Christmas present

I have got to do something about this. It's driving me crazy.

It all started back when I lived in the hole-in-the-wall, years and years and years ago. I had two cats then, that's how long ago it was. My tub faucet developed a slight drip. Very slight. I was going to call about it, but then I noticed that the cats (especially Delilah) liked to drink from it. Preferred it to the water bowl, in fact.

Actually, no. It started further (farther? Incidental grammar question for G: Is it farther for distance and further for time? I always forget) back then that. It started with Needles, our very first cat. She discovered that if she sat on the edge of the bathroom sink and stared at her humans expectantly, sooner or later one of them would turn on the tap and let a fine stream of water flow, thereby turning the bathroom sink into Needles' water fountain. Beebop, the dog, watched this and decided what's good enough for the cat was good enough for her. Any time we gave the cat a drink from the sink when the dog was around, we would then have to pull up the stop and fill the sink for the dog, who'd hop up on her hind legs and drink from it.

Fast forward a few years. Needles died (of old age, in her sleep, curled up on the top of the water heater), a pregnant Siamese was left on our doorstep in a cardboard box (someone must've heard we lost our cat), and she gave birth to a litter of kittens, one of whom became mine, another of whom became the father/older brother of the Siamese's next litter of kittens, another of whom is mine. (Yes. You read that right. Delilah's family tree does not fork. We didn't get the boys fixed in time, and we didn't know who the daddy was until every single kitten came out looking like Oreo. Sigh.) This litter of kittens (and the one after it) watched the dog get a drink from the bathroom sink, and decided, much the same way Beebop did, that's what's good enough for her was good enough for them.

And now we get to my bath tub. My cats, up to this point, had been perfectly happy with water from a bowl. Then the tub faucet started to drip, and they drank from that. I couldn't tell whether they stop using the bowl altogether, 'cause water evaporates, see, so I kept filling it.

Things went like this for a while, and everyone was happy. Then my upstairs neighbor's tub developed a leak, and it came through my ceiling. I called the office, and they sent out the maintenance man. This was back when the whole place was taken care of by one grumpy old man who managed to get everything done by himself. When I left, there was a team of very happy-go-lucky idiots who get everything done eventually. Usually. Maybe the old guy was grumpy because he was overworked. So anyway, he fixed the leak in the ceiling, repainted the ceiling and the wall, noticed the dripping tub faucet and fixed it.

And Delilah has never forgiven me for that. Ever. Ten years later, and she still shouts at her water bowl. I wish I could figure out how to record it, because it's a horrible noise, and I want to share. It goes something like this:

"Mow! Mow! MMMMOWWWW! MaWOW-WOW! MAWOW-WOW!MMMMMOW! Mawowowglubglubglub."

Yes. She complains even as she's drinking.

It's not like I leave out filthy water for her. I replace it twice a day. I wash out the bowl every time. And now that we're in the new place, she gets chilled fridge water, just as I do.

Not good enough. Apparently. 'Cause she still howls. In the middle of the night, even. My bedroom is above the kitchen, and my bed is almost directly above her water bowl. When she starts howling in the middle of the night -- and I think she's doing it louder now that we're in a bigger place, to make sure I understand her displeasure -- I lean out of bed and thump on the floor with my fist. It's the only way to shut her up. I've fallen out of bed twice while doing this.

I've tried teaching her to drink from the sink. She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't even attempt to understand what I'm trying to show her. She acted like I was about to drown her. She would rather sit on the edge of the tub, bat her eyelashes at me, and rub the faucet with her face. If I had finer control of the tub faucet, I'd let a little bit run for her, but here's how the stream goes in most tubs, mine included: Nothing, nothing, nothing, Niagara Falls.

About a month ago, the tub faucet started to develop a slow drip. A few days after I noticed it, she did.



I thought, "Hurray! This is what she wants. Now she'll be quiet."

Nope. It's not running fast enough, so she still howls. And it's nice and echo-y in the bathroom. And now thumping my fist on the floor does absolutely nothing but hurt my hand and make me fall out of bed.

So for Christmas, I'm getting her this:


Not the ginger cat, just the water fountain. It has a charcoal filter and a pump that keeps water running continuously. I've already tried one of those self-waterers that looks like a little water cooler. No dice. And if this doesn't shut her up I don't know what will.

Christmas questionnaire

Received a holiday-themed getting-to-know-you style questionnaire in my email. You know the kind I mean? One of those where the sender has answered all the questions and wants you to answer back. Well I replied to her, and then I thought, why don't I put that on my blog?

So here it is. I noticed when I pasted it over that I forgot to answer a few of the questions. Oops. I'll fix that here:

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both -- depends on the gift, and whether I'm sick of fighting with tape yet.
2. Real tree or Artificial? Well, I don't have one yet, but it will be artificial when I get it.
3. When do you put up the tree? This year: as soon as I buy one. Next year: some time after Thanksgiving. Whenever the mood strikes me.
4. When do you take the tree down? Whenever I get sick of looking at it.
5. Do you like eggnog? Bleah. It's nasty.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? The doll house Uncle Bill made for me by hand. It was based on one in the Little House books -- the one the Ingalls finally moved into as their permanent home. He made all the furniture himself, and drew the floorboards by hand.
7. Hardest person to buy for? Dad.
8. Easiest person to buy for? My sister
9. Do you have a nativity scene? Somewhere. I stopped putting it out 'cause the cats (I had two at the time) kept stealing Baby Jesus and playing soccer with him.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Erm. I buy paper ones, address them, stamp them, and then find them two months later. So. Mail?
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A Precious Moments figurine. Those little onion-headed dewy-eyed kids are creepy.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story ("Fra-Geee-Lay. Must be Italian." "I think that's 'fragile,' honey.")
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I keep an eye out all year.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? No. That figurine? The cat broke it. No, she did. Really. She didn't like it any more than I did. I'd set it out on the dresser in an attempt to get over the way it creeped me out. I came home and it was in pieces on the floor. Good cat. She got cat treats for that one.
15 .Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? My mom's homemade fruitcake.
17. Favorite Christmas song? Ding Dong Merrily on High
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Travel
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? Yes: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen, Rudolph, and Olive.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Haven't decided what will be on mine. Star on my Mom's, angel on my sister's.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Usually morning, though sometimes Mom would let us open one (that she picked out) on Christmas Eve -- mainly if it was an ornament for the tree or something she wanted us to wear to the Christmas Eve service.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? That it starts so freaking early. This year it didn't even wait for Halloween to be over.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color? Theme: holly and berries; Ornament: my mother has one that's a little nativity scene in a real egg shell. I love that thing.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? Well, it's used to be turkey, but last year Stretch did prime rib, and that was pretty dang good.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Some rest. And no conversation about politics. And some strawberry motif stuff for my kitchen would be nice.

Anyone else want to do this?

My neighbors across the way love Christmas

They must. Because they started decorating on All Saint's Day. First it was a wreath, then lighted garland round the door and living room window. Then a week later all the bushes got wrapped in Christmas lights. Tonight was the first night it didn't look incongruous, mainly because there was finally snow on the ground.

So far none of the other neighbors have followed suit. I figure they'll wait until after Thanksgiving. I still haven't decided what I'm doing yet. I don't really know how to do outdoor lights. There's an electrical outlet outside by my front door, but do I have to use a special kind of extension cord? I may just skip exterior lights altogether and go with a little electric candle in each window.

Can you see the pumpkins on their doorstep? I think that's a little obligatory nod towards Thanksgiving as they roar past it straight into December.

Is it 2007 already?

Yawn, stretch, scratch, scratch, scratch.

I feel like a bear that's come out of hibernation. Kinda disappeared there for a while over the holidays, didn't I? It's not like I had anything better to do, either. I just hung around town most of the time, doing next to nothing.

I did go to my sister's for Christmas though. Enjoyed that. There were seven of us -- me, my parents, Ditter, Ditter's hubby, and Ditter's in-laws (called hereafter Mr. and Mrs. S). I think I mentioned before that she and her husband bought a house with his parents, didn't I? It all seems to be going well, except that the cats don't get along. Hops is very territorial, always has been. Schotzi tends to stay in Mr. & Mrs. S's bedroom most of the time.

The living room looked like some sort of monument to excess. There were presents everywhere. Here, let me show you:

We ran out of room under the tree and started to build outward. There are more added after this picture was taken. Mr. S said it looked like a department store display.

Christmas itself is a blur. Only a few things stand out:

1) Double warning -- Handwritten in large letters on the hot drinks vending machine of the Greyhound bus terminal:

Caution! Very hot liquid!

And under this, very small, in different handwriting:

When it gives you anything at all!

2) Good night kisses -- I slept in the downstairs guest room. The door to my room stayed open all night, as it had the cats' litter box and food dishes in it. Daisy (my sister's yellow lab) does a bed-check at some time every night (no one else knew this until I told them. Probably because all their doors are shut). She took the opportunity of an open door to come and give my face a quick wash. By the third night the kisses didn't completely wake me -- I incorporated them into my dream.

3) Christmas dinner -- My brother-in-law had done a turkey last year, and though we all liked it, he was a little disappointed. He'd used some recipe from the food network and thought it would taste different. So this year he decided to do prime rib. Very tasty, and very large. It looked like a quarter of a cow, and he hadn't used the whole standing rib roast. I remember him asking my sister whether she wanted him to make steaks out what he wasn't going to use that night, or whether to just leave it as a roast.

4) First Night prep -- fast forward about a week. Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. They'd fenced off a block downtown in preparation for some alcohol-free, family-oriented New Year's Eve festivities called "First Night." A large part of the event has to do with ice sculptures. The ice was brought in a few days in advance, wrapped in silver thermal blankets to keep it cold. New Year's Eve Day, the sculptors start carving. I have a few pictures over at Flickr, if you'd like to see them. I didn't make it to the actual event. I don't think the buses run that late, and besides, I'm usually yawning by 11:30.

The rest of the two weeks went something like this: sleep late, play on the computer, watch TV and knit, go out for a walk, maybe go downtown for a little bit, read, watch TV with cat in lap, go to bed. One day I skipped the walk/downtown part, and just hung around the apartment all day in my PJs. Aaaah. Sloth. I enjoy a little of that every once in a while.

I'm going to have to start using the alarm clock again, starting tonight. I go back to work on Monday, and I should probably get back into the habit of getting up at the crack of dawn.

Hope your holiday was a good one. Happy New Year all!

What's next, locusts?

The weather forecast for today has predicted just about everything except a rain of poisonous toads. It's supposed to start out with a high of 62° (Fahrenheit), then about 1 o'clock we're supposed to start with rain and high winds -- there's a flash-flood warning until 10 pm, I think -- and then we're supposed to get a little bit of snow. Is Mama Nature a smidge angry?

The rain and wind have started right on schedule, and I just heard a siren in the distance. It sounded like a fire engine. The lights flickered slightly a little while ago, which makes me wonder if a power line is down.

Vacation was nice & relaxing, by the way. Nothing earth-shaking happened, though I did take a few pictures at the kitchen table with the laptop. I'll post them soon.

Now comes the part of the year I dread: Christmas shopping. It's very hard to get any information out of my male relatives about what they'd like for Christmas. Some year I'm going to take a pottery class, make bizarre lumpish objects (that's all I can do anyway. Ever made a pinchpot with corners? By accident? I have. I still don't know how that happened), call them I-don't-knows and give them as presents. Then the next year when I ask what they want and they tell me, "I don't know." I can say, "No, I gave you that last year."