What Child is This?

How could it be?
16 Christmases ago, I couldn't even imagine...

...what this child would be like now.











Love you, Goob.

Plants Vs. Zombies

The Goob got this video game for Christmas.  Looks like the zombies might be winning.

Ox and Friend

 Last week we sang "What Child is This?  and  "Good Christian Men Rejoice" in the morning worship service.   Which means we projected the word 'ass' on the sanctuary wall and sang it right out loud in front of God and everyone.  Twice.

Why lies He in such mean estate?
Where ox and ass are feeding ...

(I know I should be mature than this.  Butt I confess I struggle.) 

Ox and ass before Him bow,
And He is in the manger now...

Pope Benedict says he finds no evidence that there were any animals present at the birth of Jesus.  So I begged the STP to change the lyrics to ox and sheep.  What difference would it make?  Same number of syllables.  Just as likely to be present at the manger.  Less likely to make me and junior high boys giggle.  But no, we sang it again on Christmas Eve.  And then this happened:

Our manger scene donkey tumbled onto our train track (which, while it is a traditional part of our under the tree Christmas scene, is probably not authentic to the Christmas story either) and broke his ear off.  It is not the first time our donkey has lost this particular ear.  But it is the first time I couldn't stop referring to it as our sorry ass.  And wondering (aloud to the STP) if it would be appropriate to blog that I broke my ass on Christmas Eve.  And giggling some more.  Which is probably why Santa did not bring my fox hat this year.

I glued it back together, but sadly you can still see the crack.

Just a Few Words

Sometimes a gift is just perfect.  Like the little pottery dish that sits on the little round green table.  It holds rocks that we picked up on the beach on Cape Cod.  And any heart shape rocks that the STP hauls home from wherever in his pockets.  (What's it gots in its pocketsss, Precious?)  Mostly the rocks just sit in the dish, but sometimes they crawl out and arrange themselves in the sun spots.

And these wooden letters.  I am always glad to take them out of the Christmas boxes and arrange them on top of the hutch.  (They can not arrange themselves because it is too high for them to crawl up there all by themselves.  Plus, unlike the rocks, they are clearly believers in intelligent design.)  
Two Christmas gifts from years gone by that bless my heart.
Enjoying the little things this evening.  A movie with my guys.  Snuggling with the SLD.
Making a grocery list and checking it twice.  Some more of my favorite words:
pecans
cornflakes
brown sugar
red jello
crushed pineapple
grapes
cream cheese
sour cream
green chilies

You're Getting Nothing For Christmas

Dear Siblings, Siblings-in-law, and Nephieces,
Blah, blah blah--just read the bold print for the quick version (which may be passed on to those who never read the blog.)
On the marker board is a remnant of a list.  One that I made last year at this time.  The last thing on the list, the thing that never got done, is:  Write 2011 letter. ( It's still on the board because I hate to give up on it.  Hopefully, you are not holding your breath waiting for it.)  In light of that, I did not make any new lists for the end of 2012.  No gift list.  No to-do list. No note to write a 2012 letter. 
But if there was a theme for 2012 it would have something to do with giving.  With doing small things with great love.  With living beyond myself.  It included a couple of books on living simpler, a mission trip to Mexico, a dusty Lent, an Advent focused on acts of kindness.
In light of that, here's what I did with your 2012 Christmas gift.  I bought a sheep with it. To welcome the Lamb of God in your honor.   Because what I want you to know at the end of the year is that I love you.  And while homemade caramels and silly mustaches (which seem as silly to me right now as they must have seemed to you last year) might communicate that love, I think it will be just as effective to just tell you this year.  Hopefully you know that. Hopefully when I saw you this summer and/or fall I told you that.  Hopefully you don't need to open a package to know that you are loved and you aren't unhappy that I gave a sheep to a family who can really use the milk and the wool.  Because they need food and clothes. (And trust me, you don't want Aunt Brenda buying you clothes.)
And while I was at it I gave them three ducks.  Because that way they get milk and eggs.
And with the money I saved on postage, I bought a bicycle.  For a girl who will ride it to school.  So she will be safer.

Because when I think of you, I remember how blessed I am to have ridden through the Big Savage Tunnel with you this year.  And how blessed we are as a family to be healthy and wealthy enough to ride our bikes for pleasure.  And I remember how lucky I am to have you in my life and how much I love you.  Merry Christmas.

One of a Kind

Still going out of my way to be kind this month.  Which seems to be a particularly unkind month.

I have this theory that if one person can go out of their way to show compassion, then it will start a chain reaction of the same.  People will never know how far a little kindness can go.
~Rachel Joy Scott (1981-1999)  First victim of the Columbine High School Massacre

It's Good To Be Fancy

Love this child and her brother more than you can imagine. 

 Having a kindergartner in your life makes Sandy Hook news even more heart wrenching.  And even more unimaginable.  

A Wintry Western Welcome

Welcome to the front porch.  Fresh greens and a smattering of pinecones in the flower boxes.
Took the lanterns down to hang the snowflakes.  Used the upside down flowerpots on the steps as pedestals for the lanterns.  (God Himself decorated them with fresh snow.)

Added two garage sale trees with white lights and garage sale icicles to the one sad and lonely tree I already had.

 Filled the big blue pot with more pine cones and coneflower seed heads. (God Himself frosted the tips of them.)

Freshened the bow on the barbed wire wreath.  

Cause nothing says 'Welcome' like barbed wire.

Candles, Trays, Ornaments, Pinterest

 A 10 cent tray, ornaments no one wanted, three upside down birthday glasses, half a pack of clearance candles from Michael's (a real store).   Voila!  Big room coffee table.

 A knitting needle.  More ornaments no one wanted.  Green glass bowl the dog once drank from on the patio.  Voila!  One more tree in the living room.

Three free 2 quart jars.  Epsom salts.  More ornaments no one wanted.  The other half of the candles from Michael's.  One silver garage sale tray.  One silver star ornament from the box of ornaments. Voila!

  I'm pretty sure this justifies all the hours I've spent on Pinterest this year.

Kindly remember: I Do Not Collect Flamingos

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
--Aesop (Fabulist)

Still trying to keep up with acts of kindness.  The Goob has decided that it is okay to do more than one kind act a day, but you can not bank them. As in, yesterday's second kindness can not count as today's kindness.  Being kind is a little more challenging than I first anticipated.  So today I set out to do a small thing:  Hold my tongue.  And trust me, it is keeping me busy.  But I offer you two more small kindnesses.

1.  I offer you the definition of

fabulist  (ˈfæbjʊlɪst)
— n
1.	a person who invents or recounts fables
2.	a person who lies or falsifies

Use this in a sentence?  She is such a fabulist.  Say it with a smile and it may be a kind way to call someone a liar.  I mean, she is a fabulist on the order of Aesop!
(Sadly, I can not offer you the pronunciation. ˈfæbjʊlɪst ??)

2.  I share another peek at the decking of my halls.

 Remember that I do NOT collect flamingos.  But I have to admit...

one or two flamingos in a palm tree are a welcome sight on a snowy day.

And since we're decorating our house plants--how about some flower bulbs?

(Can you believe someone was throwing these away?)

So the question of the day remains:  Can we believe anything attributed to Aesop?

Kitchen Trees

I added 10 trees to the kitchen this week.
 (And maybe a partridge or two)







Three of them are Scandinavian flavored chalk trees.  They are on the refrigerator.

Four of them are glass.  Two of which are filled with kisses.

Yes I know there are only 3 pictured.  Trust me--there is a fourth glass tree.

And there are three more trees inside a glass canister.  

Between the tea bags and the sugar.

These are possibly my favorite new decoration this year.  Thanks to being at StuffMart last January on 75% off days.  $1.50 Thank you very much.

In addition to fitting 10 trees in my kitchen, I decorated the window with snowflakes and jingle bells to match the canisters.  (Because I'm the kind of woman who decorates her kitchen canisters, that's why.)

I got these snowflakes at a storage unit sale this summer.  I didn't have to buy the whole unit.  Just 50 cents worth of snowflakes.  (I also got those great vintage curtain hooks at a storage unit sale this summer and I made the curtain from what was left of my vintage tablecloth.  I don't think I've showed you them before this.)

Total cost of kitchen decorations: $2.00

In case you think all I have been doing in my kitchen is decorating it, think again.  Tonight I made cake balls.   Carrot Cake Balls and German Chocolate Cake Balls.  

Okay, now you can be impressed.   

Missing the Princesses

"Make your home as comfortable and attractive as possible and then

 get on with living.  There's more to life than decorating."   

This quote and picture are from the October 2012 issue of Real Simple magazine.  (I was thinking I could attribute the quote to Albert Einstein, but it was already attributed to Albert Hadley.)  And this quote made me think of Princess Amidala.  And then I looked more closely at the picture and realized that might be Princess A herself holding the basket (and wearing the tights).  And the blurry blonde might be her 'get right in the middle, as well as the spirit, of things'  royal sister.  And the pony tailed one (please note--in the matching dress) would be the Slovakian Princess who came up with the wonderful Jillian Jiggs-esque idea in the first place.  And I was transported back in time to a high ceiling living room in Spring Creek.  Where a whole lot of living took place with three little girls.
Today I will finish with the Christmas decorating before lunch and get on with living this afternoon.

Lets Kind of Talk About Albert Einstein

Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.
Albert Einstein, (attributed)


As a family we agreed (read: I had this great idea and decided we would all participate) to do acts of kindness through the month of December.  So far we have rung the Salvation Army bell, volunteered at a fundraiser, ordered a book to donate to the elementary school library, made a snack to share and shared it, and gave some pine boughs to a stranger.  I also compiled a list of possible kind acts and a separate list of kindness quotes.  
But at the end of 4 days of deliberate kindness, I am left wondering what counts as kindness?  Does it have to be a deliberate act?  Something out of the ordinary?  Can I count holding the door open for someone if I would normally do that any way?  Does it count if I only held the door open because I needed to log a kind act before the day ended? 
If I just do something to be kind, what kind of person am I? 

And about that Albert Einstein quote. Why is it 'attributed' to him?  Did he kind of say it?

Acts of Kindness

A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
--Saint Basil

Today I will endeavor to more kind,  more saint-like,  or at least eat something seasoned with basil.