A Post Featuring Snow

I've decided that "a dark and stormy night" has nothing on "an icy and foggy morning."  I had to fill a prescription early this morning and about lost my way in all the murky blackness.  I drove achingly slow and smiled to myself imaging the drivers behind me cursing their luck when they saw my license plate, "Sheesh, you'd think they'd never seen fog in Arizona."  Well, actually I haven't.

For those of you wondering if we're still in Joplin, we made it Michigan right on schedule and have been Christmasing ever since.

My kids remembered the joys of snow, but not the cold.  I think the last time we went sledding in Flagstaff we all shucked our coats half-way through the day and ended up sunburned.  It's been a bit of an adjustment.  The first day here there were a few tears about how "freezing" it was, but eventually they figured out the science of layers and the necessity (and brilliance) of gloves.  Boots are also helpful.  We had to go buy a couple pairs when we got here and had to go to four stores before we finally found some.  I asked David, "What do you have to do to find boots in this town?"  Apparently the locals have long since bought what they needed for winter and the stores are about to start stocking flip-flops in anticipation of summer. 

 You can tell they're from Arizona because shovelling is play...

 

and I had forgotten about the beauty and charm of icicles.

We had a lovely Christmas, but for me the best part happened on Christmas Eve...

"For unto us a son is born, unto us a son is given." 

The Other Shoe and Semester's End

I had to take our only working car into the shop yesterday.

My eyes watered when I saw the bill.

The car guy said, "It could have been worse."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically. 

I know he was thinking, "I had one guy in here last week who has to get a whole new car."

And I was thinking, "I know.  That was my husband.  Ironic, no?"

Thankfully, RIM kept CIM from bursting into tears.  But it was close.

The good news is that school is out tomorrow.  August seems like an absolute lifetime ago.  But our holiday begins tomorrow afternoon.  Well deserved, I say.  And in two sure signs that the semester is winding down, Caleb had his violin Christmas concert on Monday night  

and this morning I went to the school to help Ethan decorate a graham-cracker house.  

And just so I don't give you any false impressions about my crafting abilities (that last post may have been misleading) I am including this picture Ethan took of me and my shredded wheat reindeer.  In my defense, I think it would have worked if the royal icing had dried faster.

The Universal Language of Craft

I do not know Japanese.

But apparently, craft, is a universal language.

Because I figured out how to make these:

 

I know.  Can you believe how unbelievably sweet they are?

To add to your amazement, let me just remind you that the instructions were in Japanese.  I asked David a dozen times last night, "Can you believe how amazing I am?"  He said he cannot.  And when he asked how long it took me, I cleverly changed the subject.

I have been without a car the last couple of days (and again today), and I'm finally making some progress on my homemade gift list.

The dolls are going to have a memorable Christmas.

(I blindfolded her so as not to spoil the surprise.  Seriously, look at that kiwi.)

And to add to all this joy, this was the view as I was taking David to work this morning.  Incredible clouds for this part of the country. 

Christmas Stories from My Digital Elph

In an attempt to dump my brain, I am dumping my camera instead. Bear with me. It's about all I can manage in the middle of the holiday season. 

Here are our gifts to deliver around the neighborhood. Gorgeous, no? All ready to deliver. Then just as we were eating that chicken pot pie in the bottom of the frame, two separate families came around and delivered the exact same gift. Really. So we had to start over. For the record I wanted to make Lelly's "House Sparkle" in the first place.  David scrunched up his nose at the idea. When our friends delivered the second bottle I told David that this never would have happened with "House Sparkle." He said there was a reason for that. I ignored that. We ended up making a Christmas CD which was a far superior idea anyway and only took us another three or four days (heaven help me) to make the mix, copy the CD's, figure out how to print CD covers and then finally deliver them.    

Olivia had her Christmas viola recital last weekend. She was beaming at her chance to wow the world with "the Can Can" and "Ode to Joy."  We were all sufficiently wowed.

David and I finished up most of our Christmas shopping last weekend.  I snapped this picture of David in a store that we have never shopped in and are unlikely to ever visit again.  I've said it before, there are a million little universes out there.  How we ended up in this one is a mystery of the season. 

Amy and Kelly and I went to dinner on Wednesday night.  And then Kel and I did some (mostly window) shopping.  Here she is expressing her outrage at the sight of this anatomically correct cologne bottle.  Whatever happened to public decency standards?

My nephew, Luke, had his first birthday party on Saturday, and we played at the park with him and all his other fans.  My kids were good enough to open all his presents for him, and, bless his heart, he didn't seem to mind a bit.  (I think Ethan has secret designs on his Christmas presents as well.)  We had a great time and I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard.

This one is by far my favorite.  I snapped it as the girls and I were leaving the Nutcracker on Friday night.  After a night of gorgeous dance and costumes and music, they are whispering about the magnificence of the Sugar Plum Fairy and picking the parts they want to play next year.  They oohed and ahhed through the whole thing, gasping at just the right moments.  They even raved about our "great seats" up in the balcony.  And here they are reviewing all the best moments:  "Olivia, weren't those gingersnaps soooo cute?"  "Oh, Savannah I think next year you could definitely do the Russian dance."  We hummed and pirouetted all the way to the car.

The stories that my Canon Elph could not tell this week (either because they were too sacred or too sad) include a multitude of car problems (for both cars), the worst of which is that David's car needs a whole new engine, and will have to be replaced.  So I am shuttling him to and from work and making due until we can do that.  And meanwhile, I am secretly enjoying this extra time with David every day.  

After grudgingly (yes, even petulantly) making my way through the first couple weeks of the holiday season, I have finally caught the spirit of it.  On Saturday night we watched "It's a Wonderful Life" and I started bawling at the drugstore scene with Mr. Gower and never really stopped.  And then last night we had dinner with some friends and went to a Christmas concert at our church.  (Caleb and Olivia both sang in it too, Olivia with significant feeling all over her face.)  The music was gorgeous, and suddenly I caught the Christmas spirit, and I belted out "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" at the end as loud as I could.  Today is cold (a first this year) and overcast (rare), and it finally feels like Christmas.  David said we could light a fire tonight after Caleb's violin concert.  I think if we open the doors we really can.  There will be hot chocolate.  And marshmellows.  And more Hark-the-Herald-Angels-belting with "significant feeling."  And Dicken's "Stave One" in which we shall meet Marley's ghost.  It's finally Christmas at our house. 

The Magic of My Life

I got a small package in the mail today from Blue Lily Photography.

And may I just say, at the outset, that Wendy Whitacre is a brilliant photographer and all-around gracious lady.  You would count yourself lucky to ever find yourself and your darlings on the other side of a camera from her.  I am sitting here counting myself just that.

There are lots of course, but here are some of my favorites.  I think I may be getting frames for Christmas.  It is obvious from these that I have everything else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am overwhelmed by the beauty and magic of my life.

Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.

~from Carl Sandberg's "At a Window"

Proof I Can Be a Good Wife

And how.

David had a breakfast potluck party this morning.  I made the Lemon Blueberry Poppy Seed bread, which, I believe, first made its debut appearance at Tiff's bridal shower.  (Kel is the one with the memory so she will probably correct me on this.) 

I thought I ought to document the moment.  Just to be fair.  I was afraid the jamba juice incident might have left a bad impression.

You'll notice that I took the picture in the girls' bedroom.  The light is best in there in the morning.  And I wanted good, solid, and also, lovely proof.  There you go.

And now for your reading enjoyment I will give you the conversation that got us to here, along with the interpretation in italics of what was actually said.  Pay attention, it's subtle:

Last night as we were leaving Olivia's concert,

David said casually, "They're having a breakfast potluck for my boss's birthday in the morning.  I think I'm going to pick up some donuts."  (Don't be angry.  Please.  But I need you to make something fabulous.)

So then I said, "When is this potluck?  (Grrr. )

David:  Tomorrow.  (Yikes.  This is already going badly.)

Me:  You need to give me some notice.  (There's a whole unattractive rant here about how I'm just supposed to be able to whip up something wonderful at a moment's notice.  I'll just leave that out.)

David:  I didn't want to add anything to your plate.  (Earlier this week you were positively scary to live with.)

Me:  I guess I could make the lemon poppy seed bread if you go to the store.  (That's true.  I have been hard to live with.  But still.  A little notice.)

David:  I think I'm just going to sleep in.  (Thank you, sweets.)

I know you think I got that last line wrong, but I was dead on, as evidenced by the fact that as soon as we got home, David got out the cookbook, made a mental list, and went to the store.

Now that I reread that, I'm not sure what I just proved.  Just look at the picture.  That part was nice. 

December, Four Days In

So here's the thing.  The longer I go without blogging, the less I have to say.

It's true.

And now I just wrote a whole post, ready to publish and everything, and it disappeared into cyberspace.  Which is vexing.  Austen never had this problem.  All that cleverness gone, me the only witness.  Like I said, vexing. 

Anyway, we've had a bit of a rocky start into December, but the end of November was quite nice, so I will start there.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving, thank you very much.  I think my favorite part was the little place cards the girls created for everyone at the table.  The big dilemma was whether the person in question was more of a "pilgrim" or more of a "Native American."  My place card was a Native American, "even though I like church" (their words).

  

We played hours and hours of games over the holiday, much to Caleb's delight.  We even finally read the directions to "Dutch Blitz" and were soundly beaten by David.  Caleb ruefully pointed out that he got the game for his birthday (in June!) and this was the first time we had played it.  The height of tragedy.

We had a little party on Saturday night with my brothers and their families.  We had dinner and played a new game called "Say Anything" which turned out to be a lot of fun.  A couple of them even commented, with surprise in their voices, how fun it was and how we ought to do it more often.  Amen to that.

And now for a few snapshots of December, four days in:

1.  Caleb had his big aerospace challenge all day on Tuesday.  He competed against 100 teams and did not win.  Not even an honorable mention.  We were sad, and me doubly so to see his palpable disappointment.  He really did do great though.  His team was visited by 10 teams of judges, all looking at different elements of the project.  My favorite moment happened when one of the judges asked Caleb about how big the space station was.  Caleb immediately replied, "The area of the torus is 42,223 meters squared."  The judge could not help grinning and neither could I.  We had a little bit of downtime between judging groups and once one of Caleb's friends asked where he was.  I said, "Pacing," and pointed to Caleb walking the hall talking to himself, going over figures in his mind.  I spent the whole day nearly bursting, alternating between pride and anxiety to see all his earnestness.

2.  The first of our Christmas string concerts is tonight and Olivia is delirious with anticipation and giddiness at the thought of "performing on stage" (which she says with dramatic emphasis).  She asked me what I thought performing would be like.  I said seriously, "Amazing."  And she said dreamily, "I thought so."

3.  Ethan came home from school yesterday with a note from the principal that he had been fist-fighting on the playground and she wrote specifically that, "he had to be pulled off the other student."  I know.  We found out later that it was a student who was three grades above him.  Heaven help me.  I told David that we're going to have to ban "A Christmas Story" from our holiday movie library. 

4.  I cleaned out my sewing room yesterday.  Found a home for my new disco ball motor and 16 wooden dowels with various-sized holes drilled through them.  (Apparently their story will never be told.  This is probably for the best.)  David is still smarting a bit from the jamba juice incident (as I like to refer to it), and shaking his head at how stubborn a person has to be to let perfectly good jamba juice melt into mush.  And I have no good answers for that.  I can only say that for me somehow "stress" is always connected inevitably with "distress."  Which is unfortunate.   

5.  Olivia left for school today clutching Caleb's copy of Fablehaven.  When I questioned her about the book choice she told me that her friends had told her that it was good and she was "desperate" (her word).  Fablehaven is about the exact opposite of Laura Ingalls Wilder, but she has been increasingly forlorn without something to read and I'm waiting for Christmas to introduce her to Anne with an "E".  She looked down at the book skeptically and then up at me and said, "Mom, I don't think I'm going to make it to Christmas.  And I mean it."

As an aside:   The kids were playing a game in which Olivia had to pick her favorite place to go on vacation...she chose Wisconsin (Laura's childhood home) over Hawaii and Disneyland and even Michigan.  David was flabbergasted.  I, however, completely understand this romantic non-logic.   

6.  We had our first gifts of the season on Tuesday night.  (It was supposed to be Monday, but we're not going to talk about Monday night.  Ever.)  This led to a sweet, spontaneous moment around our tree, which included singing a couple of Christmas hymns, all of us off-key but Olivia.  I'll admit I shed a few tears and finally felt a bit of Christmas spirit.  I always get a late start on holiday cheer, but I make up for it in the end.