New Year Wishes

We should not look upon the Old Year as an ending, but rather look toward the New Year as a beginning for new chances to get things right. Have a blessed 2010. Happy New Year Everyone!

TS forgot something

TS forgot to include Little Bit telling her mom, "That was not in my plans" when she learned they were taking the Christmas tree down. This was after she had said, somewhat disbelievingly, "You're kidding!" when Mom explained they couldn't leave the tree up because it was going to die and would lose all its needles. Sometimes she sounds like 3 going on 43...

A simple prayer

My three-year-old's prayer last night: "Dear Jesus, please tell Santa Claus I know he's busy, but I think he forgot to bring me a Shaggy doll for Christmas. If he has a chance, I'd really really 'ppreciate it. Thank you, Jesus. AMEN!"

I've Still Got it (I think)!

This was published in The Telfair Enterprise in July 2005. It, along with the one about the dead bird, are two of the most commented on columns I've written and people still mention them to me even now.

I’ve Still Got It (I think)!

Like most people my age, I cannot do a lot of things as easily as I used to (if at all) and I worry as I get older about being able to take care of myself.

For instance, I can no longer rise from the floor to a standing position without holding onto anything.

Heck, since arthritis jumped on me with both feet about 15 years ago, I am just happy to get up period without calling for a wrecker for assistance.

However, I learned last week that I can do things in the dark of night that, if asked about in the light of day, I would have sworn I could not do.

An illness in our family has necessitated several trips to Atlanta recently and our children have graciously allowed us to spend nights with them and to bring our dog, Nickson, along.

Last week, my daughter and son-in-law had the dubious pleasure of hosting us. They too have pets but I am not so sure it is an asset in this case.

Their mixed terrier, Rusty, is similar in temperament to our Jack Russell terrier, Nickson, and they get along well. On the surface, it seems like a perfect match.

Wrong.

Both dogs are seniors but when you put them together, they are like naughty pups on speed, in constant motion and running wide open.

No one sleeps because they roam the house all night and if you separate them, they scratch and whine to get to each other so much you still don’t sleep.

Popping them with your bedroom slipper only lasts a little while and is guaranteed to leave you feeling very guilty when you see four big brown eyes looking up at you accusingly.

Our visit last week coincided with Hurricane Cindy and even though Julie and Jamie’s home did not receive the brunt of it, there was a lot of rain and thunder and lighting.

Both animals are horrified of bad weather and while we were all relieved when it finally eased up, the terriers were absolutely delighted.

With their Valium wearing off, the terrible twosome were soon at it again, full steam ahead.

I tried to keep them downstairs with me so the rest of the family could sleep and it worked partially (at least for a little while).

Sometime in the wee hours of Thursday morning, Rusty came and whined in my face to be let out yet again. Nickson was standing right behind him, wagging his tail, “Me too! Me too!”

Once more, I trudged to the back door, turned them both out and waited a while. Rusty finally came back in but Nickson was nowhere to be seen.

There was a moth the size of a baseball flitting around the light just outside the door so I pulled the door partially closed when I went out to call the errant canine back inside.

Evidently, Rusty thought he might be missing something and he tried frantically to get back out.

He reared against the door and pushed it completely shut instead. That would not have been a problem, but the lock clicked on it when it closed, leaving me stranded on a very wet deck, clad only in my nightgown, at 4:00 a.m.

The temperature was still pretty warm but everything was so wet that I couldn’t even sit down and make myself comfortable.

We had a long day full of doctors’ appointments ahead and I really didn’t want to sit there until daylight anyway.

I knew if I knocked loudly, it would set the inside dogs off and wake the baby so I knocked gently several times.

When that didn’t work, I cupped my hands like a megaphone and called towards Julie’s upstairs window several times. Still no results, so I decided to go around the house and ring the doorbell.

One small problem—the gate has a padlock on it.

Resigned to my fate, I knew there was nothing else left to do and at that time of morning, no one was likely to see me make a fool of myself if it didn’t work.

Instead of my usual short summer gown, I had packed a long one so that made my task a bit more interesting.

I hiked it up around my waist, hooked my foot on the crossbar of the 6-foot gate (there is no foothold on the fence anywhere) and pulled myself to the top.

Unfortunately, there is no foothold on the front of the gate either so once I was perched on the round top of it, there was nothing to do but turn loose and hope for the best.

The thick new sod was softened by the rain so all I wound up with was a damp backside and a little bruised pride. (At my age, pride is secondary when the choice is being inside a comfortable house or sitting on a wet deck for three hours.)

Of course, the doorbell woke Julie, the dogs and the baby; but both husbands slept soundly through it all.

After the commotion died down, I learned that particular door has a nasty habit of locking itself and Julie and Jamie actually hid a key outside after locking themselves out a few times.

If I had known that though, none of this would have happened and I would still not know I haven’t completely “lost it.”

Climbing a tall fence in the middle of the night—funny, and cost only a little pride.

Knowing I still can—priceless.

A Little Christmas Humor

I goofed earlier. The food column I posted was for the 24th and this humor column was supposed to run on the 16th. My bad! Warning: This is not for anyone who considers him/herself  PC.

A little holiday humor

Oh look, yet another Christmas TV special! How touching to have the meaning of Christmas brought to us by cola, fast food, and beer ... Who'd have ever guessed that product consumption, popular entertainment, and spirituality would mix so harmoniously? ~ Bill Watterson

Christmas is nearly here and if you need a break from all the cooking, cleaning, shopping and television specials, sit back and enjoy a little humor to lift your spirits. I’ve had some of these in my possession for so long that I’ve forgotten the sources but they’re still funny.

This recipe for a very “special” rum cake is guaranteed to make you relax and enjoy the holidays without out even turning on the oven.

Special Rum Cake

1 t. sugar

1 or 2 quarts of rum

1 c. dried fruit

Brown sugar

1 T. Soda

1 c. butter

2 large eggs

1 c. baking powder

3 juiced lemons

1 c. nuts

Before starting, sample rum to check quality. Good, isn't it? Now proceed. Select large mixing bowl, measuring cup, etc. Check rum again. It must be just right. To be sure rum is of proper quality, pour one level cup of rum into a glass and drink it as fast as you can. Repeat. With electric mixer, beat 1 cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 seaspoon of thusar and beat again. Meanwhile, make sure rum is still alrighty. Try another cup. Open second quart if necessary. Add leggs, 2 cups of fried druit and beat til high. If druit gets stuck in beaters, pry loose with drewscriber. Sample rum again, checking for tonscisticity. Next, sift 3 cups pepper or salt (really doesn't matter). Sample rum. Sift 1/2 pint lemon juice. Fold in chopped butter and strained nuts. Add 1 bablespoon of brown sugar-or whatever color you can find. Wix mell. Grease oven. Turn cake pan to 350 gredees. Pour mess into boven and ake. Check run again and bo to ged. ..ADN HALPIE HOLIGLAZE TWO YA'ALL!

Just in case you “eat” too much of your Special Rum Cake, this "diet" might help you get back on track.

This diet is designed to help you cope with the stress, paranoia, depression and delusion that tends to build up rapidly during the holidays.

Holiday Diet

Breakfast:

1/2 grapefruit

1 slice whole wheat toast

8 oz. skim milk

Lunch:

4 oz. lean broiled chicken breast

1 cup steamed spinach

1 cup herb tea

1 Oreo cookie

Mid-Afternoon snack:

The rest of Oreos in the package

2 pints Rocky Road ice cream, nuts, cherries and whipped cream

1 jar hot fudge sauce

Dinner:

2 loaves garlic bread

4 cans or 1 large pitcher Coke

1 large sausage, mushroom and cheese pizza

3 Snickers or similar candy bars

During the Late Evening News:

Entire frozen Sara Lee cheesecake (eaten directly from freezer)

Rules for this Diet:

1. If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

2. If you drink a diet soda with a candy bar, the calories in the candy bar are cancelled out by the diet soda. 3. When you dine with someone else, calories don't count if you do not eat more than they do.

4. Food used for medicinal purposes NEVER count, such as hot chocolate, brandy, toast and Sara Lee Cheesecake.

5. If you fatten up everyone else around you then you look thinner.

6. Movie related foods do not have additional calories because they are part of the entertainment package and not part of one's personal fuel. This includes, but is not limited to, Milk Duds, buttered popcorn, Junior Mints, Red Hots, Tootsie Rolls.

7. Cookie pieces contain no calories. The process of breaking causes calorie leakage.

8. Things licked off knives and spoons have no calories if you are in the process of preparing something.

9. Foods that have the same color have the same number of calories. Examples are: spinach and pistachio ice cream; mushrooms and mashed potatoes.

10. Chocolate is a universal color and may be substituted for any other food color.

11. Anything consumed while standing has no calories. This is due to gravity and the density of the caloric mass. And even if they did, the calories would all go to your feet and get walked off

12. Anything consumed from someone else's plate has no calories since the calories rightfully belong to the other person and will cling to his/her plate. (We all know how calories like to cling!)

13. Food eaten at Christmas parties has zero calories, courtesy of Santa.

14. Don’t forget that STRESSED spelled backwards=DESSERTS!

Christmas isn’t Christmas with music but if you are tired of the same old carols, check this interesting list for a new take on old favorites

Carols for the Psychiatrically Challenged:

1. SCHIZOPHRENIA: Do You Hear What I Hear?

2. MULTI LE PERSONALITY DISORDER: We Three Kings Disoriented Are

3. DEMENTIA: I Think I'll Be Home For Christmas

4. NARCISSISTIC: Hark, the Herald Angels Sing About Me

5. MANIC: Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and . . .

6. PARANOID: Santa Claus Is Coming To Get Me

7. PERSONALITY DISORDER: You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why

8. DEPRESSION: Silent Anhedonia, Holy Anhedonia, All Is Flat, All Is Lonely

9. OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER: Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, ........ (better start again)

10. PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY: On The First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me (and then took it all away)

11. BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER: Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire.

In conclusion, allow me to share with you this litte ditty to sing after Christmas.

The Twelve Days After Christmas

The first day after Christmas

My true love and I had a fight

And so I chopped the pear tree down

And burnt it, just for spite

Then with a single cartridge

I shot that blasted partridge

My true love, my true love,

my true love gave to me.

The second day after Christmas

I pulled on the old rubber gloves

And very gently wrung the necks

of both the turtle doves

My true love, my true love,

my true love gave to me.

On the third day after Christmas

My mother caught the croup

I had to use the three French hens

To make some chicken soup

The four calling birds were a big mistake

For their language was obscene

The five golden rings were completely fake

and turned my fingers green.

The sixth day after Christmas

The six laying geese wouldn't lay

So I sent the whole darn gaggle to the

A.S.P.C.A.

On the seventh day, what a mess I found

The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned

My true love, my true love,

my true love gave to me.

The eighth day after Christmas

Before they could suspect

I bundled up the

Eight maids-a-milking

Nine ladies dancing

Ten lords-a-leaping

Eleven pipers piping

Twelve drummers drumming - well, actually I kept one of the dancing ladies -

And sent them back collect

I wrote my true love

"We are through, love!"

And I said in so many words

"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the Birds!"

A Few Reflections & Good Wishes

It’s been a year since I made my “escape” from McRae and so much has happened since then that sometimes it feels a little like a dream. I like my life now and my only regret is that I didn’t do it more than 40 years ago. Perhaps there are reasons still unfathomed though.

If I had left then, I would not have my beautiful daughter and her wonderful husband, nor these two precious granddaughters in my life. I continue to be amazed at them every time we’re together. They were playing this afternoon, chattering nonstop, when I heard the three-year-old telling her sister that a gargoyle was trying to catch them. (I really don’t remember my children being this smart!)

I’m grateful for the time I can spend with them. Some days I’m grateful to be going home but sympathize with TH for having to stay. Fortunately, that isn’t too often.

To my friends online and off: I wish you a wonderful Christmas and the most phenomenal New Year ever. Let us remember those for whom this is not a happy time whether it be because of illness, death, divorce, financial problems, or for whatever reason, then count our own blessings thrice. Merry Christmas, everyone.

It's (almost) Christmas!

It's Christmas and we are giving thanks that the girls are feeling  much better. I came out early so Mom and Dad could escape for a little while. I do remember what it was like to be cooped up with sick children and know how claustrophobic that can get to be!

They're both so excited about Santa coming tonight and terribly distracting right now so I will have to wait until tonight to finish posting. Before I sign off though, I'm pasting a poem about my cooking experience last night. (The kids thought it was funny.)

T’was the night before Christmas Eve
and Santa was appalled
at what Judy muttered to herself
as she scrubbed cooked carrots
from off the wall.
A few more like that
he said in his report,
and tomorrow night
I can cut my trip short!