Ready or not, winter is coming

I think turkey's can take a break now between now and Christmas, but I think this is THE cutest idea.  If we go out for Thanksgiving, then I will do a big turkey spread on Christmas, but since I just did the works ... not sure what Christmas will bring.  But do love this!  Not sure I could eat it, makes it look kind of ... wrong!

So we have eaten turkey night, after night, after night.  Last night I called it Thanksgiving Two and we finished up the last of the mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes and stuffing.  There is still so much turkey left it's kind of ridiculous.  I am going to make a few turkey pot pies and freeze them.  No one here, including myself, wants any more turkey.  Not even sandwiches.  NO MORE TURKEY!

So now it is time to move on to Christmas.  The kids reminded me that we now decorate our house.  I'd forgotten.  Yes, really, I did!  Maddie reminded me that I had bought a ton of decorations and really done up the mantle and stairways, etc.  I guess I hadn't realized at the time that it was a tradition!  I think that is partly because the mantle display was sort of garish and I thought, in a way, ironic.  BUT NOT TRADITION!  I don't remember as a child glomming on to things and wanting to repeat them (otherwise known as tradition, I guess) but these kids crave it.  I said it was time for a smaller tree -- if only because the gi-normous ones cost a fortune.  But I saw their little faces, and spent yesterday afternoon rearranging the living room to accommodate our traditional-sized tree!  Geesh.

We had our first snow event on Saturday.  First this crazy squall came in and just pummelled the house for a half an hour.  It was a total white-out and the wind was insane.  Then the blue skies followed and left a perfect winter wonderland.  And it also left the roads a disaster.  Peter and I headed down to Concord to catch a movie, and when I pulled on to the highway, it was not a good sign to see the cars crawling.  The interstate was a skating rink and there were cars off all over the place and those lucky enough to stay on the road were going about 20 miles an hour.  Yikes.  I considered turning around, but the northbound side was blocked with fire trucks and ambulances, and major, major experience has taught me that we would be driving out of it soon enough.  Which we did, but I couldn't help but thinking OH NO.  Am I really ready for this?  (Truth be told, ever since the crazy drive to NYC in a blizzard, I have found any short trips driving on snow and ice to be quite do-able!)  Those squalls always leave wreckage in their wake, so I'm not really sure why we even bothered to go out; I guess because we're just not ready to admit that winter is upon us.  Today I am going to go out and pull the kale -- yes, I have had kale growing right up until the squall.  It looks a little toasted now though.  Time to admit defeat and accept what I can't stop!  Mount Sunapee opened today too.  Am I ready to ski?  Not really.  I certainly won't waste my time going there and skiing the one trail they open to the masses, but it's just another sign.  Of winter.

Happy Turkey Day in a big way

I have been on a roll the past few days -- I completely re-designed my bedroom and moved every stitch of furniture around -- and that required (because when I get on a roll watch out!) cleaning out every single drawer and the closet.  Well, my closet.  Peter can do his own, though truth be told, his never gets like mine.  You know, messy, cluttered, stuffing things in and shutting the door and walking away.  That's mine.  His just never seems to change.

It took a solid day and a half ... there isn't a speck of dust in that room or the bathroom.  It is CLEAN!  I even removed all the stacks of books (keep, give-away, maybe keep) as I weeded out the book shelf as well.  I realized about halfway in that I was under the influence of PMS and a full moon, and took full advantage of the crazy energy and drive.  Then yesterday afternoon I took my completed shopping list and went to get that little necessity of hell out of the way.  Yes, the traditional Thanksgiving shopping trip.

It was crowded.  Mobbed.  I was lucky to get both a parking spot and a cart.  I had made a special trip to Hanover to the Co-Op because I wanted a good bird.  An organic, free range happy bird.  (Or happy until the axe got him.)  I even went straight to the meat department to capture my bird before the droves of people behind me went there too.  And there was a bird, oh yes there was.  There were exactly two choices for someone who did not order a bird.  There was a 30-pounder, and a 10-pounder.   The large bird was scary and the small one was pathetic.  I went to the counter and asked the nice man if he had any smaller birds, and I made a rather horrified motion towards the big guy in the case, you know, I flashed that disarming smile we keep for good cuts of fish and meat, because that is sort of TOO big.  He asked me if I had ordered one, and while I briefly considered a) flashing him or b) saying yes, I did, my last name is Jones ... I noticed two other people hovering around the two big daddies.  I rushed over and just hefted one into my cart.  I'm pretty sure I pulled my back, and one woman said, did that really say 30 pounds?  Did that really say 30 pounds and $100?  YES.  SO WHAT.  I tucked my guy into the front seat (he was actually bigger than any child I'd put in that seat in year's past!) and rushed back to the bread department to see if I could at least get a normal amount of rolls to take home.

Was it a snap decision?  Yes.  After the sweat dried up I returned to the meat department and scoured the refrigerated cases, looking to see if perhaps I had overlooked a teeny tiny 15 pounder.  No such luck.  The guy behind the counter spotted me and said that I could come back tomorrow (which would be today) and see if there had been cancellations of people not picking up their birds (which ranged in size from 15-25 pounds.)  Yeah.  No.  Whatever.  Live and learn.

But I am going to have to put that sucker in the oven at dawn, which means I have no oven tomorrow.  So today I have made pumpkin pie, apple pie and will do the maple roasted sweet potatoes soon.  But you see, the problem with having that PMS craziness is that it is followed by something else.  A full score drop in energy to negative numbers and a desire to lay on the couch and moan.  About cramps and leg aches and back aches (stupid bird) and the fact that every time I turn around the kitchen I have cleaned has been messed up by little urchins who sneak around and visit places I have cleaned.  You know, that sort of thing.  Whine whine.  Boo hiss.

So what I have now is an upside-down cleaned house.  Normally, normal people (of which I am clearly not one) would devote their tornado of energy towards areas where guests will be permitted.  In most cases, you can have a clean downstairs and a messy upstairs and no one has to know.  But this is going to be hard to insist that everyone come to my bedroom for appetizers and cocktails.   Or even odder to set up a table in my squeaky clean bathroom for dinner.  No, what it all means is that I have to dig deep and find some sort of reserve to clean the entire downstairs of my house ... I will receive help on their terms.  Peter will do something TOMORROW.  He is a morning person, and despite the fact he's been home since 2:00, he feels it is his sitting on the couch time.  Not his help me with the downstairs cleaning time.  The kids cleaned their rooms too, during the upstairs frenzy, and have pretty much indicated that their quota for the month is full up.  Oh yes, I could yell and scream and rant and rave, and I assure you, it will come to that.  But for now, I am going to just not give a damn!

Look on the bright side.  We will be eating turkey for dinner for weeks.  No shopping or menu planning!!!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING !

Free shipping gets me every time

For the past several weeks now on my drive home after picking Charlie up from school, there have been a handful of homes with their Christmas lights up.  Seriously?  And on Halloween, the ACTUAL DAY, we were in Target looking for some costume additions, and the special holiday room they have in the back had already been transformed into a Christmas Wonderland.  That is, in case dates are hard to recall, OCTOBER 31st.  As Thanksgiving draws near, the "traditional" time when people drag out their Christmas paraphernalia and adorn their houses inside and out with holiday cheer, it is getting worse.  I say worse because my theory is that winter is already long enough as it is.  Christmas, in my mind, is a part of winter.  The leaves haven't even completely fallen off the trees in October -- it is NOT time to think about Christmas.

And yet.

AND YET!  I am almost done Christmas shopping.  This is borne entirely out of experience -- I am almost exclusively an online shopper, and there is a reason for this too.  Once I get out in the world of stores, I suddenly need everything I see.  I can go from a perfectly happy non-materialistic person to a nut job stacking up her credit card with one purchase after another.  FOR ME!  (Point in case, I was in a kitchen gadget store looking for an apple peeler to make applesauce, and I bought a sandwich maker AND a cake thing.  A glass cake stand with a cover.  It is still sitting out on the wood pile in the garage.  Why?  Because I make cakes exactly like three times a year ... for those at home who even want me to bake them a cake.  But this purchase happened to fall only days after Charlie's birthday, when I had labored over a completely from scratch chocolate cake that when I presented it, clearly needed to be on a glass stand.)  I am sure next time I make a cake I will have forgotten I purchased that.  Please remind me.

So, why so early with the Christmas shopping?  Because now is the time to get it all shipped for free.  Everyone wants your online business and the black friday deals have been going on for weeks (like the crazy early Christmas lights!)  There is this urgency to make Christmas bigger and better every year because it's all about spending.  SpENding and MORE spenDING.   Fine.  Spend away, but I intend not to spend a dime on shipping.  If I can get my act together (and it appears I have!) then I can get the slowest form of shipping (aka free) and not worry because I still have over a month for it to get here.  Also, UPS gets completely and totally bogged down the last weeks (believe me, I've been on the phone with them before) and while they actually ship up to Christmas Eve ... it kinda sucks when you sit and stare out the window all day Christmas Eve waiting for the package that never arrives.  And when you live where I live, that means you are shit out of luck. 

My early shopping, as I've said, comes from years of experience. I have spent a fortune sending an item from eBay overnight, only to find it is broken.  (I very rarely buy things from eBay now because I have discovered that they are the reason you can't get things in the stores!)  These buyer's buy as many of a popular item as they can then auction them on eBay before Christmas to make a profit.  Ho Ho Ho you HO's!  You won't get a penny out of me anymore ..... been there done that. 

So it has been like Christmas here -- I have packages arriving daily and my office is stacked with it all (unopened so that prying eyes won't get a peek).

And here is another added bonus.  I told the kids if they had something they really, really wanted (the true black Friday and CyberMonday are really my last shopping days) they should give me a list.  (Keeping in mind I have purchased their majorities already).  Charlie gave me a list that is about a grand worth of things -- topping the list is the Xbox 360.  What, you ask?  We don't have that?  You mean he is right?  We are truly the ONLY Family in America who does not have one?  How can this be?

Below that are two video games for said Xbox, a remote-control helicopter that is in the hundreds (with additional and necessary accessories, ca-ching ca-ching) and then some electronic piggy bank for a hundred bucks.  I think it was the look on my face (he woke me up to show me) but 20 minutes later he returned to my bedroom with a tray with homemade waffles and coffee. 

Bribery works.  Don't rule it out.

I actually did away with lists for a while because one year when Maddie was 8 or so, she came down on Christmas morning with her list in hand.  As she received each item, she would cross it off.  Later that day I saw her searching the living room amongst the debris of wrapping paper, bows and opened boxes.  "What are you looking for?" I asked her.  And she looked at me, pencil behind her ear, and said "I can't find my trash can."  Huh?  Well, that was on her list!  And she had received EVERYthing on it but the trash can.  Which, as she pointed out matter-of-factly, she needed for her room.

Literal people should not have Christmas Lists.  They think they are contracts or something!  Geesh.

So with Christmas more or less taken care of, I should probably make that Thanksgiving shopping list.

Yeah, ya think????

I got no junk in my trunk so funk you

While I don't have any junk that can be   touched, other than my breasts I suppose, I am still totally and one hundred percent completely against all this TSA crap.  From one article I read, the agent said to someone who did not want to be sexually molested, "you gave up your rights when you bought your ticket."

Oh, really?  Then we need to get our rights back!  And quite frankly, if no one flies, then they are going to have to add common courtesy, respect and decency back into the game plan.

Do not, for one single second, convince yourself that your subjecting yourself to either a dose of radiation (in the case of the body scanners) or a pat-down that includes touching someones balls and breasts is in any way shape or form protecting you on your flight.

(Has anyone read the book the Outliers?)

Listen, I get that we have to do what we do, and I have never complained about going through a metal detector.  I think taking off your shoes is moronic and ludicrous, but it's not invasive enough for me to follow through on it.

But I will NOT subject my person to radiation of any kind, and neither should anyone else.  They already know that progressive X-rays is dangerous.  And in time we will see the damage from our children getting multiple MRI's to diagnose sports injuries, but there is no dispute that radiation is bad for you, and the lesser you are exposed to, the better.  Why do you think that there is a "pat down" option?  Because when a frequent flier gets diagnosed with cancer down the road and some class action lawyer decides to put together a case, the airline will have that covered.  They will state that you CHOSE to do it.    Yeah, yeah, I know I sound crazy and all that, but NOTHING has changed since 9/11 (when we lost many rights) that has indicated that the system is not working.  The packages with devices that created the recent brouhaha were all on cargo planes.  What that says to me is that the terrorists have realized that getting things through security doesn't work.

That means that the security procedures WORK!  But isn't it interesting that the government is using yet another opening of terror to slip in yet another item.  Hey, there are companies out there making these things -- and they make money if it is MANDATED that all airports have them.  Hmmmm.

Don't line the pockets of yet another government-subsidized company ... scream and yell for your rights, stay off planes until they get the message, oh don't give me that it won't work.  IT WILL WORK!  The airline industry, like most industries in the world, are run on the purchase of goods and service.  In this case, the service of being flown from one destination or another.  Do I go into my local supermarket to buy a loaf of bread and need to be patted down or given a good dose of radiation?  No, and you know why?  Because no one would stand for it!!!!

And you could also embarrass the people patting you down by moaning and groaning and acting like it is getting you off.

Whatever works.  (That is my idea, but other blogger's have suggested burping and farting ... I guess the point is DO NOT STAND PLACIDLY BY AND LET PEOPLE TOUCH YOU).

This is a good blog on it:   http://www.everywhereist.com/hate-full-body-scanners-heres-10-things-you-can-do/
 

Common sense hits iceberg

"Navy helicopters flew in Spam, Pop Tarts and canned crab meat and other goods for the passengers and crew, passengers said."

I'm sorry, but who is in charge of feeding 4,500 people stranded people on a cruise ship?  Mickey Mouse?   Was it some kind of joke -- send in the grossest food in the world (via Navy helicopter no less) and then take four days to get them to land?  And those ships are LOADED with food ... what are the cooks, all morons?  They couldn't figure out what to do with what they had on hand?  And one fire in one room causes the entire ship to fall apart ... was there not ONE boy scout on board?

Was I supposed to feel bad as the passengers disembarking were talking about their woes at sea?  SHIT HAPPENS.  I love the comparisons to the Titanic.  Oh yes, almost identical.

Again, I ask, who is in charge of common sense?

The orange dress

First off I will start with the fact that when I googled "Macy's orange dress," nothing of what I spotted back in the 80's comes up.  Not even close.  And there are often times I even wonder if I have any recall of what the dress looked like, because all I did was walk by it, and it was like 25 years ago.  But it has remained in my head, taking up real estate all this time, and I believe it is time to exorcise it from my consciousness!

I was going to a Christmas party and I needed a fancy dress.  It was my first grown-up office Christmas party, and I wanted something nice.  A friend and I went into Jordan Marsh department store (which is now Macy's) and we entered a section of the store I'd never been in.  The world of dresses!  Wow, I was instantly overwhelmed, and a few glances at price tags convinced me I was also way out of my financial league.  But as I was high tailing it out of that particular area, a mannequin wearing a smashing orange dress that was perched upon one of the dress racks caught my eye.  She had her hand on her hip and she was standing (in her mannequinish way!) with that hip jutted out.  In other words, a sexy pose.  She had pouty lips and she was wearing this dress that made my heart go pitter patter.  I stopped and gazed up at it.  It was beaded and glittery and form fitting and 3/4 quarter length and low bodice and well ... the body I had at the time would have done it proud. Oh, and when I say orange, I misrepresent the color -- it was more of a cool orange sherbet color that looked a little darker in places where the beadwork was heavy.  I looked around to see if I could find the dress on a rack so I could check out the price, but I couldn't find it.  There was no salesperson around, even though I circled the mannequin in the dress several times.  My friend finally convinced me that since it was nicer than some of the dresses I had been appalled at their price, obviously this one would be too much as well.

I didn't find anything else in any other department and I wanted to go by the dress another time.  But we were parked on another end of the building, so it didn't happen.  And as you can glean, the dress still haunts me to this day!

After I had exhausted countless stores, I decided that I would return to Jordan Marsh and try on the dress that had spoken to me (really quite loudly, but at that stage in my life, I didn't know how to listen!)  I went straight to the dress department and scanned the mannequins.  She was gone!  My sexy, pouty, pretty mannequin was nowhere to be found.  And neither was the dress!  I found a saleswoman and tried to explain what I was looking for.  I brought her to the rack where the mannequin had stood, but she couldn't remember.  She kept pulling out other dresses and saying, "What about this one?"  But none of them were THE dress.  The dress was gone.  Had it ever existed at all?  Sometimes I wonder, I really do!

My mother was also on the job, and she had found this secondhand dress in an upscale secondhand store, that was full sequins -- and quite crazy.  It wasn't form fitting, it sort of hung down straight, but once on, it was quite reminiscent of the flapper dresses, and this one had gone wild!  It sparkled and glittered -- wearing that I was a walking disco ball!  It was expensive, but she paid for half and I was all set.  But ... I still missed that damn orange dress -- the dress that I had deemed to be THE PERFECT DRESS in my mind. 

At the party I was constantly complimented on my dress (and as the night progressed it became a joke as to where I had been because everywhere I went I dropped sequins!)  On several occasions I replied that this was a cool dress, but there had been this other dress ... eventually I stopped myself because really, I had no idea if the dress would have worked at all.  Not a clue.

But here is the thing -- the orange dress had taught me an invaluable lesson that I have followed to this day.  When I see something -- anything -- that represents the same idea as the orange dress, I buy it.  I don't care what it is, if it catches my eye and somewhere deep inside feels that it is right, I don't look at the price tag, I just take it home with me.  Now, that seems probably a little extreme, but it sure has made my shopping life easy!  And because I have done this all these years, there is very little I actually do buy, because none of it is beyond my reach.  Does that make sense?

For example, I have a $300 hat.  No, that is not a typo.  Some friends and I were at this obviously over-priced store, and this hat caught my eye ... it was on a mannequin's head and it was a very light pink and I reached for it and put it on.  I am one of those people who hates hats -- can't stand them on me, can't stand how I look in one -- and yet, I live in a climate where the wearing of a hat on many days is more of a necessity than an option.  One friend came around the corner and said "Oh, you look so good in that hat," (which was kind of how I was feeling looking at myself in the mirror.)  I took off the hat, which wasn't super tight fitting so it didn't really ruin my hair, and happened to glance at the price tag.  I gulped.  Why would it cost so much?  A salesperson saw me and explained that it was a died wool hat that was hand blah blah blah and that it took a long time to make and shape and that each hat was a work of art and was actually numbered and signed by the artist slash hat maker.  Oh.

I put the hat back on the mannequin's head and moved on.  I mean, it would be one thing if I absolutely loved and adored hats, right?  But in truth, I hated hats.  As I wandered around it occurred to me that this was the orange dress all over again.  What would happen if this hat haunted me until the day I died?  There were a few other hats there, but none the color I would have chosen.  I picked up the hat and both friends gasped.  "Are you really going to buy that hat?"

Again, the doubt began to creep in, and then I remembered that orange dress!  I plunked the hat on my head and said with great determination that I was.  And that I was going to promptly forget how much it cost!

Now, here is the thing.  I love that hat.  I love and ADORE that hat.  It looks as perfect today as the day I bought it -- and it lives in a drawer with my scarves and mittens (there are no other hats in there, I am quite monogamous in my hat wearing ways!)  And each and every time I put on my hat, I smile.  And I always get comments about it, because it is quite different from your average hat!  And I am not afraid to wear it at ski races or any outdoor activity, because, as I have explained, it is my only hat!

Who knows what my life would be like today if that orange dress hadn't taught me that price does not mean everything.  How much better to cut costs in other areas for a short while in order to cover the cost of the dress (or whatever it is you fancy) than to pine after it for the rest of one's days!!!!!

Now how's that for a hat trick!