New Year Reflection

A dreary, wet ending to 2006. As I sit here, I am remembering some events during the past year and wondering if it was a good one or not. A chronological chain of memories are forming like the droplets on this tree. I've never regarded New Year's Eve or New Year's Day as anything special, actually. In the passage of time, there is no end, like the beat of your heart or the ticking of the clock. Yet, we mark the ending and start of the "Year" as a focal point in remembering years past. How else would we cherish "1988" as being a great year or "2005" being a year we would love to forget? We regard New Year's Day as a time for a new beginning. Our personal resolutions are made that are rarely kept, but at least New Year's Day reminds us to examine our lifestyle and goals.

I'm not ready to list my resolutions yet. Generally, though, I look forward to a year of good health, abundant laughter and smiles, and being able to hug and hold those I love dearly.

My wish for you is the same. May we all continue to strive for:

Harmony and peace in our lives,

Reducing our stress, and,

Spending time to appreciate the beauty that surrounds us.

CHEERS!

God Bless You.

My New Camera Rocks

Nala is sitting pretty at the animal hospital. She's well. No vomiting. They are feeding her as much as she will eat and waiting for her to pass her bowels. We have fingers crossed. For background info, see yesterday's post, "Geese, Cats & Kids".

It's been a strange day. The clouds moved in and cast a gray hue all around, as we are due for heavy rain for the next two days. Saddam Hussein was executed and former President Gerald Ford's burial services are being held in Washington, D.C. as I write this.

The above photo is today's mystery bird. I thought, at first, it was a Junco (pictured below) but it's beak is dark and longer and there is a white patch on its wing. For help, I ordered my Stokes Field Guide today and should have it within a few days. To the feeder, I added a lot of sunflower, nuts, and fruits to the mix today but I didn't make it to Wild Birds Unlimited. Darn. I want a suet feeder and a few others but it'll take me some time to decide where I'll place the new ones.

Being able to see my backyard birds' faces for the first time EVER is so exciting, even in low light. My camera is blowing me away with so many features. Still learning, though.

The three dogs are getting along beautifully. Yes, Bella is very stingy when Mr. Biggins wants her to share the hula-hoop. They are quite a pair. This shot would have been a complete blur with my other camera. I used my "sports/action" mode for this one.

Chloe joins in the wild play action now and then, but is really intent on staring at me as if to say, "Enough is enough already? Will you please calm them down?"

Mr. Biggins has a worried look on his face most of the time because I think he is always wanting to please. His appearance can be formidable to a stranger and his bark is frightening. Watch dog? Oh, yes. Guard dog? Not sure about that. A gentle giant. Huggable. Sure loves his Gramma.

Geese, Cats, & Kids

There is another new pond in my community and, lo and behold, this is the first time I've seen a flock of Canadian Geese in it - probably thirty of them! After my leisurely lunch yesterday with a friend and my husband, I stopped to visit the geese. Since the ground is soft and saturated, I had to stand at the top of the hill and not get close, relying on my new zoom! I nearly lost a shoe in the mud trying to get to their level. Without having a bag of bread with me, I thought I'd play it safe, as I've been attacked by them before (the spoiled ones).

Taking in the beauty of the day, I stood there for quite some time and relaxed.

It was a good day.

Later in the evening, Gina brought Mr. Biggins to us for his "vacation with Gramma", as she and Billy were catching an early morning flight to Austin, TX for a five-day visit with his step-sister and family. Later in the evening, she called me and I heard a frantic cry, "Mom, I'm taking Nala (her cat) to the emergency vet. She swallowed a sewing needle!" Being a mother, the first words from my mouth were, "How did she get a sewing needle?" The question I asked wasn't necessary, but I couldn't help it.

Some other conversations I've had with her come to my mind as I compose this post. Two years ago, when she lived in Wilmington, NC, without enough money to feed herself and still on our payroll, she bought a cat and a dog. Her decisions were not the least bit popular with me and I reminded her that pet ownership is quite expensive and things happen to drain your bank account real fast. But NO, she wouldn't listen and now I have an opportunity to say, "I told you so!" But I won't. Last night she admitted to being careless with the cat and cried. I didn't say a word. After x-rays at the emergency vet, Nala returned to Gina's apartment last night and it was planned that I would pick her up and take her to the regular vet in the morning.

Events since last night follow.

I slept in a full-size bed in the back bedroom with Mr. Biggins. He stole the covers. We won't allow three dogs in our bedroom at night and Mr. Biggins is so spoiled, he needs to be in a bedroom at night - with a person.

At 9:30 this morning, I arrived at Gina's apartment and found Nala, her emergency vet report, and an x-ray. By that time, Gina was in Dallas/Ft. Worth, still sniffling over Nala.

Nala refused to go into the cat carrier. She fought me. Hard. Knowing I was losing the battle and also knowing she was getting sick of me, I knew I needed to be creative. She hid from me. An hour passed.

For a while, I thought I'd leave and try again tomorrow...but...what if she became seriously ill? I couldn't just leave her! Since the cat carrier was a no go, I looked around and found a rubbermaid drawer in the dining room loaded with dog toys. I dumped them, closed all doors and barricaded the sofa so she couldn't slip under it. She was cornered. I shoved her into that drawer so fast she didn't know what happened and after ninety minutes of games, we were on our way.

Nala was quiet on my passenger seat and I kept the drawer pulled open enough for her to get air. I guess the 30 minute ride was too long for her, as she peed, vomited, and pooped. Windows went down.

As I pulled into the parking lot of the vet's office, she squeezed her way out of the drawer. Slamming the brakes and rolling up the windows simultaneously, I panicked. But she just stood on top of the drawer, smeared in vomit and poop, looking at me as if to say, "Where am I and how did I get here?" She came to me and I held her gently.

I was irritated with the whole scenario since the night before. This whole darn deal did not set well with me as I reeked of foul odors and was longing to spend my day off in other ways. Selfish? Yes, a little.

In the examining room, I hugged her sweetly. We waited for Dr. Mark for quite a while as he was euthanizing a dog...sad. Nala was calm and cool as a cucumber, sitting on my lap, and I realized how tiny her head is. I called her a pea brain. Her big, marble green eyes peered into mine and we touched noses as she purred and nuzzled into my neck. With a teary eye, I told her that I hoped she had intestines made of steel and I would be back to bring her home soon.

I worked hard around the house this afternoon and I am spent. I did, however, find a few minutes to look closely at this little sparrow.

Bird Quiz

My time off from work has flown by. I am shocked to realize I've been off for over a week. It's been a wonderful time and I feel quite rested even though I'm suffering from a cold, still. Today I'm driving up to Mooresville to have lunch with Jean. She's an American Idol buddy of mine and also a secretary at Michael's office. I think we'll allow Michael to bring a friend for lunch, too, especially if he agrees to pick up the tab! Jean saw "Dreamgirls" the other day and has much to tell me about it.

Yesterday I ventured to the mall to return a few things for Michael. It wasn't as crowded as I expected and I was able to leisurely browse around. After seeing Christmas displays in the stores for over a month, they are very quickly disappearing, only two days after Christmas. Spring fashions are at the forefront now.

In the afternoon, I took some time to play with my new camera.

These cardinals and juncoes were waiting for me to put those pesky dogs inside the house!

I couldn't resist this one. I'm having trouble centering my subjects with full optical and digital zoom working.

I haven't taken enough time to look this one up, but my first guess is a Song Sparrow or could it be a Carolina Wren?

It's not a good photo but might this be a Purple Finch? Will somebody please help me? I know, I know. I'll spend more time studying.

This last photo was taken just before sunset and I had trouble letting light in. I like it anyway.

There are so many different birds out there and it's very frustrating to see one fly by your face and perch ten feet away from you, especially when your camera is parked on the kitchen counter.

Horror at the Beauty Shop

There was talk about "coloring your hair" on Susan's blog today. Now and then, whenever I hear talk of hair coloring, salons, or perms, I am haunted by an experience I had when I was young. I was probably around 24 or so and had shoulder-length platinum blonde hair that I colored myself. It was double processed. When your natural hair color is pretty much non-descript, this is what you do. Blonde is much better than a hair color that isn't blonde, brown, black, or red. Maybe mine is called dark ash blonde, I don't know... I spent loads of time on my hair and rolled it every night for fullness and curls. Believe it or not, I got tired of guys hitting on me (HA!). After all, I was married and didn't need the aggravation! My friend, Nancy, said, "Mary, it's the HAIR!" So I darkened it to a light brown. I got tired of the constant touch-ups, too.

I called a little beauty shop not far from home because I wanted a "body wave". Not knowing much, I asked the lady if I could have one, since my hair was very bleached underneath the brown shade. "Oh, yes", she said, "No problem." So I made the appointment and couldn't wait to get there. I arrived with bells on and again asked my beautician, "You know, I am very bleached blonde under this. Do you think it'll be OK?" She assured me everything would be fine.

So out came the perm. It was a Zoto perm and she rolled my hair in record pace. I thought, "Wow. I'm going to aerobics tonight with fluffy hair!" You know, "fluffy" was the rage back then. Meanwhile, the girls in the shop were watching a soap opera on TV in the back room. Ding! I was ready. With my head bent back over the sink, she removed the rods. Before I knew it, two other beauticians were watching. I didn't know anything was wrong. I was happy! Then I heard talk of some sort of "oil pack". What I didn't hear them say was, "Mary, we have a little problem. Your hair is falling off and disappearing down the drain." Actually, hearing the truth at that point might have started a real scene. To this day, I am amazed at their composure.

Still feeling "I-can't-wait-to-see-my-hair" happy, I thought it was a bit strange that she rolled my hair in curlers and put me under the dryer. My heart started to pound and my hands started to sweat. I watched and heard people all around the shop but didn't really see or hear them. Something was wrong. She should have used a diffuser on my hair or something. Plus, she never took me to a mirror! Timidly, I put my hand up under the dryer and felt a curler with crunchy hair surrounding it. I lifted that damned dryer, got up, grabbed my handbag, and started swinging. No, I didn't do that! I wasn't thinking clearly enough to beat the crap out of anybody. The rage and horrible fear rising inside me made me want to flee, and fast! With my hair still in curlers, I told the receptionist I was late for an appointment. Stupidly, I wrote a check for $45.00 (no tip) and turned around to leave, hearing the buck-teeth receptionist say, "We'll need you to bring the curlers back." Kindly, I said, "Oh, I will." What I should have said was, "Screw you and your freaking rollers, bitch."

Driving home in fifth gear on a two-lane road, I was breathing heavily and the fear turned into a full panic. I made it to my bathroom mirror within minutes. My face was white, my lips were white, and my eyes were bulging. Hands trembling, I unclipped one curler on my crown. It was stuck to my hair and with just a little tug, I looked at the curler laying in my hand, still wrapped by my hair. My hair was spongy and sticky, breaking off an inch from my scalp and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. After I removed another 6 or 7 rollers, hair attached, I quit. Chest heaving, yelling in an empty house, no crying. I was too shocked and angry to cry. Cursing like a mean sailor, I wrapped my hair in a large bandana so as not to see the hideous mess of curlers hanging down around my face.

Michael arrived home from work and stood motionless, blinking only once or twice, trying to understand what happened to his cute little wife. For the very first time in his life, he was speechless.

Off I went to aerobics class that evening, hair in a bandana. My friend, Burnell, made me feel better and gave me the name of a good stylist near her house. I called the guy that night and he saw me the next morning. After more than five hours in his chair, I fell in love with him. (Gee, I don't remember his name...) Within 24 hours, I went from having shoulder-length hair to a "pixie" cut, only one inch long, all over. The bonus: it had a very green tint to it. Why did I love this guy? During five hours of repeated conditioning and cutting, he assured me that my little face and big blue eyes needed a little "Mia Farrow" doo. Mmmm. So intimate.

The following day I went to work and wore a little sign that very briefly explained my boyish, green hair accident, in hopes of avoiding 150 questions. I sued those SOB's at the shop for $300 - a large sum of money back then and I deserved it. They never got their curlers back, either.

For many years, I avoided perms and had my hair professionally highlighted with lots of blonde, until two years ago. A very good stylist in Delaware talked me into going "all over blonde" and the results were terrible. Who likes shades of platinum, orange, peach, and yellow???? Now, I'm using a box myself.

After all,

A girl's gotta do

what a girl's gotta do.

Lessons Learned.

My Backyard Birds are Camera Shy

My goodness. It's almost 2:30 p.m. and I haven't done much more today than strip the bed and wash the linens.

Santa was kind to me this year. I got a new camera! Not as fancy as I wanted, but it is surely a step above what I had. I loaded the software this morning and I'm getting familiar with it as fast as I can. It will take weeks for me to know it, after all, I didn't learn how to use the digital zoom in addition to the 12x zoom for a half a day! Anyone who knows me, even a little, understands that I like outdoors and have been watching the birds around my pond for years. Now, I can quietly and very gently invade their privacy and capture the beauties!

Before finding the digital zoom, I ventured out there, a little nervous about it, too. Thinking, what if this camera sucks? Or, what if I suck at photographing them? I have a lot to learn, no doubt.

My first photo is of this lovely female northern Cardinal and if you look closely to the upper right, there is a little Chickadee! It was quite windy and chilly today and the birds weren't frolicking as usual. I felt lucky to see them here.

Later, I found the digital zoom. Here's some Mourning Dove action at the feeder. I was standing on my back deck, probably 15 yards away. Not bad.

This one is pissed off after that little confrontation. I don't think I remembered to use the digital zoom on this one. Doves make me laugh. They love to bathe on the waterfall and I like how they squeak with every flap of the wings.

I crept a little closer. Sneaking. Kept the dogs inside. Isn't he a handsome guy? I ran inside to look at my Bird Watching for Dummies, by Bill Thompson III and Editor of the Bird Watcher's Digest to be certain I labeled this bird as a guy.

A very shy female. I whispered, "Oh, come on. Turn around! I just want to see your pretty face." See the Chickadee - top right?

She gave in. Sweet.

I need to work on my getting closer techniques. Can't wait for a little nature walk. And you can bet your sweet bippy I'll be visiting the Wild Bird Marketplace this week.

Geez. I hope I passed my first ID test. If I am wrong, shout out! I can take it.

A Hollofilled Christmas

Presents wrapped.

Placed under the tree with care.

Very Nice.

Quiet.

Christmas Eve.

CHRISTMAS DAY.

Add:

Twenty-five squeaky balls and squeaky soft toys,

THREE DOGS,

and

A four-person clean-up crew.

Priceless.

Favorite Scenes from a Favorite Christmas Movie

"A Christmas Carol"

by Charles Dickens, 1951, Black & White

Ebenezer Scrooge played by:

Alistair Sim

1900 - 1976

This is one of my favorite Christmas movies and I particularly like the ending. Here are a few of my very favorite scenes. I haven't seen it in a few years so I enjoyed researching it and seeing the photos!

Ebenezer (Christmas Eve): “I suppose you'll be wanting the whole day off tomorrow as usual.”

Bob Cratchit: “If quite convenient, sir.”
Ebenezer: “Every Christmas you say the same thing. And every Christmas it's just as inconvenient as the Christmas before. Good night.”

That night, on Christmas Eve, Ebenezer Scrooge was visited, in his dreams, by Jacob Marley and the Spirits of Christmases past, present, and future. He awoke on Christmas morning redeemed and happy to be alive.

Mrs. Dilber: “Are you all right, Mr. Scrooge?”

Ebenezer: [ecstatic] “I... I don't know. I don't know anything. I never did know anything.” [starts laughing] But now I KNOW that I don't know anything!”
Ebenezer: [Giggling] “No. Mrs. Dilber - I'm not mad. [He ruffles his hair so that it looks wild] Even if I look it!”

Ebenezer: [grumpily] “I don't deserve to be so happy. [starts laughing uncontrollably again] Ebenezer: “I can't help it!”

Ebenezer: [ecstatic having been given a second chance and dancing around] “I must... I must stand on my head! [frightened Mrs. Dilber runs away, down the staircase, screaming] I don't know what to do! I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. [opens his window wide and shouts] A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!'"

Ebenezer: [to himself in the mirror, laughing] “A merry Christmas, Ebenezer! You old HUMBUG! Oh, and a happy new year! As if you deserved it!”

Bob Cratchit arrived to work eighteen minutes late on Christmas morning.

Ebenezer: [to Bob Cratchit] “Well, my friend, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm simply not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. Which leaves me no choice, but to raise your salary. I'll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob. Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!” [starts laughing hysterically]

Ebenezer: [to Fred's wife] “Can you ever forgive a pig-headed old fool without eyes to see nor ears to hear all these years?”
Fred: “Why bless my soul. Who's that?”

Ebenezer: “It's I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?”

Tiny Tim: God bless us, every one!

A Sort of "Blue" Feeling...

Snowmen on ice skates! A nice thought. HA! I know, I should just stop complaining and shut up about our 73 degree, sunny weather and pray for the families in this country who are still digging out of relentless blizzards, who are living in airports, desperate to get home to their beloved families and friends. This morning I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and talked to myself out loud, “Mary, what is wrong with you? Cheer up! Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, for goodness sakes!” I’ve been feeling up and down during this Christmas season. Today, I'm feeling melancholy.

After that little conversation with myself, I rounded the corner and played my favorite Christmas CD, Platinum Christmas. It boasts beautiful songs from modern artists and if you haven’t heard Christina Aguilera belt out “Silent Night”, please do. It’s a real treat. Gina gave it to me a few years ago and I can’t find the case to name other artists who shine on this collection. While I vacuumed the house, cooked, and did some laundry, I wondered about what’s missing this Christmas. My thoughts centered around lost traditions.

Miss wearing coats and gloves and seeing your breath rise? Yes. Today we’re wearing t-shirts and wiping the sweat from our brow.

Is my chest cold wearing me down? Yes.

Miss waking at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, opening gifts, and scurrying off to visit about thirty family and friends? Oh, yes. For a few decades, we complained about the mad rush and wished to spend Christmas at home. Now we have it. Funny…how I long for years past.

Miss seeing Mom and Dad on Christmas Day? Yes, achingly so. Last year we didn’t travel to see them for the first time in our lives. Unbeknownst to us, it was their last Christmas together and one they enjoyed. Guilt. Regret. I haven’t talked with Mom since May and I miss her so... I missed selecting a new robe or nightgown for her this year and I miss my Dad enjoying Christmas magic and recognizing his children and grandchildren.

Miss the tradition in the Italian basement at 2pm? I do. Squeezing fourteen people around a two small tables for an Italian feast warranted three Advil, but those were the days. Michael’s parents are gone for several years and the kids have started their own traditions. We adjusted.

Now, we are far away from family and friends and have begun to create our own traditions and maintain some old ones. One of our old ones held true today as Michael and Gina shopped for my gifts. (Hope I get a new camera :o) Since Gina was a very young child, they ventured into the shopping crowds one or two days before Christmas and today was no different. And today I also kept a tradition of mine – to clean the house before the big day. Yahoo.

I call Michael the nit-picking, whining husband, because he is. The man will develop stomach ulcers over nothing, like a wrapping paper tube laying the middle of the back yard, or finding eggs past their expiration date in the frig. I get very annoyed and tired with his non-stop preoccupation with complete nonsense. One day, he will swing the refrigerator door open and there will be no milk. He’ll exclaim, “NO MILK!” and hit the floor. Twenty minutes later, the paramedics will be there… I want him to chill out but I don’t think it will happen. Italians are very excitable about anything that is insignificant. But he has a big heart and proved it once again today. Two weeks ago, Gina, who has been working hard and budgeting to establish herself well, paid a few hundred dollars to have her lap top computer cleaned up to rid a nasty virus. Last night, her monitor died. The nit-picking husband of mine treated her to a new lap top today. He is very generous when it counts and it made my heart warm.

Later in the day, the warm breezes beckoned me outdoors to listen to the birds sing, to feed the hungry Koi, and, yes, romp with my girls. I contemplated my “blue” day while outdoors and now I feel much better.

Lives change. Situations change. Traditions change.

But life goes on with a hoot and a holler, if you let it!

CHOP!

A Simple Dog Day

It's all about the dogs today. Sometimes I wish I had the life of a dog. If my face could persuade and beg to achieve my ultimate satisfaction, I'd be a dog. Their pleasures are simple and pure. The benefit of living with them is that they can light up a room or your mood, just by being there. Whether they are snoring, panting, whining, begging, or farting, their presence is always noticed and welcome. I could do without the flatulence, though.

My cell phone rang at 6:18 this morning. Normally, my heart would nearly fail to hear the phone ring early in the morning, but I knew it was Gina telling me she was on her way over since I promised to offer doggie daycare to Mr. Biggins today. I didn’t have anything on my agenda except to get all of the gifts wrapped, get the mess I’d make cleaned up, and restore my dining room to its original order. Fifteen minutes after my wake-up call, Mr. Biggins bounded through the kitchen door, nearly taking down my large Christmas tree, and was ready for a cookie and some action. I, wearing my slippers, nightgown, coat, cock-eyed eyeglasses, and a head full of cowlicks, greeted him with slight enthusiasm. Gina went off to work.

The party never ends when you have three dogs under foot. There is no privacy, either. While I was showering, Mr. Biggins nosed his way into the bathroom and I found him staring at me, nosed pressed against the shower door. He's a Mama's boy. Most of the time, he has a furrowed brow and worries when he needs to be "with you". Then appeared the other two. Three’s a crowd!

At 10:10 a.m. I was wrapping gifts in the dining room and the power went out for an hour. Oh, great! It was cloudy and spitting rain outside, very quiet in the house, and the dogs know when things aren’t right. Suddenly feeling anxious and bored, they pawed me. I knew what they wanted. Either to watch Dr. Phil or Action! So outside we went.

"Please please please play with us!" My camera is very slow and can't capture any action, like Bella's constant head turning. Hmmmph.

They are whooping it up and sparring. Bella has great boxing ability. She springs up from her low position (above) and punches his face with both front feet. Soon, Mr. Biggins' tongue was hanging off the side of his mouth and Bella was showing off the largest, wettest, spoon tongue I’ve seen yet.

She's an insanely jealous and stingy female when it comes to sharing her toys and attention. Her beloved hula-hoop is her main obsession and I finally got fed up with her behavior and put it in the garage.

The sour puss. My poor Chloe doesn’t partake in the rough and tumble antics anymore. A few years ago, she would have been the ring leader. She did surprise me today, though, and chased Mr. Biggins and manhandled him a bit. He loves her and they sleep side by side. Instead of getting into the action, she’d rather stand still and watch, or dig holes. I yelled at her and you can see she’s wasn’t happy with me, either. Why? In less than two minutes, her face and legs were coated in red clay. For more on my relationship with this cunning girl, read here.

Cookie time! After I did poop patrol and filled the feeders, it was time to come back inside.

At 65 pounds, Mr. Biggins finds the coziest places to snooze (including your lap). A gentle, sweet soul. I love him. He's dreaming of those wild women who wear him out!

My gift wrapping is a WRAP! A good time was had by all.

A day in a dog's life.

Blessings

I can't even count the number of times I have driven past this horse farm and thought to myself, "Awww. I need to stop by and visit those little guys." I've driven past it at least twice a day for fifteen months. But, no, Mary is always in a hurry, running around like a mad woman as if someone is chasing her, and afraid of losing minutes out of her day that might cause her to be off schedule. After all, dinner is at 6pm! Can't be late!

My community college closed their doors yesterday at 5pm and won't reopen until January 2nd. I walked through the door at home yesterday, dropped my stuff and let out a much needed sigh of relief. I started working full-time in this new State of ours last February and haven't taken a vacation, except for a day here and there for travel to Maryland to visit my parents, attend my Mom's funeral, and take care of business here around the house. This time off is a blessing. Last night, I stayed up two hours past my bedtime just because I could.

What will I do until January 2nd? I'll be very busy until Christmas Day arrives. I'm looking around at a layer of dust that needs to be tended to and hardwood that needs a good cleaning. It will get done. But I'm making a promise to myself to go for walks, watch movies on TV from start to finish, carry my camera more often, and chill out.

Blogging has been therapeutic for me. It reinforces my desire to slow down, stop, and do something to make my heart feel lighter. Julie's blog was the first one I ever read and her philosophy has taken hold of me. I'm also thankful for so many other great people I visit through blogging. From afar, they keep me calm and reflective.

This little fellow was particulary interested in me. What a soft muzzle. And if you look closely, you can see my blue jeans and yellow jacket reflection in his eye.

Now I'm off to wrap some sparkly gifts!

An Evening to Remember

Yesterday. A December day at 75 degrees! Great for setting up our new computer that arrived in the afternoon. Around 6:15 p.m. Michael gulped down his dinner in record time and within a minute, I heard boxes being ripped open and a lot of action in the den. I am so different than he. It might take me longer to get the job done, but I'm more methodical and I also pay attention to details. Nothing would get lost or damaged and the installation instructions would be in plain view. Meanwhile, I hear, "Mare? Where's the keyboard?"

Here's a mental picture of Michael. He's very Italian and thick. Not fat. His round head sits on top of his shoulders, hiding his 20 inch neck. His hands look like baseball mitts and his fingers resemble Jimmy Dean pork sausages - ring size 15.5. All of his fingers are exactly the same size of each other and when he raises one finger, they all raise, which makes it very difficult for him to use more than one finger to type on the keyboard, let alone holding onto a screw or nail to save his life.

Within a few minutes, I walked into the mess he made. Boxes and packing materials covered the floor and black power cords strewn everywhere brought a snake pit to my mind. He had stuffed himself under the desk to unhook the old desk-top computer from the modem and emerged, walking back and forth, kicking boxes around, slipping and sliding on the user manual and other literature that I would have placed neatly on the desk, ready for use.

After misplacing a few more things (including the computer), he powered up the new lap top and found some installation disks. The installation prompts were in a size 3 font and neither of us could read the monitor without pressing our faces up to it, adjusting our eyeglasses, and cursing. Soon after, we got sick and tired of getting messages that contained the words, "unable to". After at least five tries, we got the remote keyboard and mouse to work. Then the big daddy message of all greeted us - the one that makes your hair rise on the back of your neck - the dreaded "unable to establish internet connection". Suddenly, I realized that Chloe's and Bella's stink bombs permeated the room and I had to get out of there. Since I was only the assistant, Michael called our internet provider and I poured a glass of wine.

Two hours later, he is stuffed under the desk again examining the connections. Our internet provider, Time Warner, blamed it all on Dell. After a 30-minute wait time on the phone, we finally made connection with a Dell technician who sounded exactly like William Hung (of American Idol fame). Really! I held the phone while William told me to tell Michael to disconnect the power. Michael was becoming very irritated by then, especially being stuffed under a desk in the darkness. I repeated to Michael, "He said disconnect all of the power sources." Michael yelled back, "I DID! SEE? THE LIGHTS ARE OUT!" Ok, I sometimes wonder how these techies deal with idiots like us. They are either on medication or enjoy laughing their asses off all the way home. In a fit of uncontrolled frustration, Michael shook the modem and all of the cords as if they were a hopelessly tangled mess of Christmas lights. I stood there watching in disbelief with my eyes wide. That was it. He disconnected the phone line and William was gone and I didn't even get to say goodbye.

An hour later, we had internet restored. Taking your time with connections and ports really helps save time and sweat but I don't think Michael will ever realize that. One more call to Time Warner Cable to help with our Outlook set up and we were finished. Nearly midnight to bed. Tonight I'll find out what other problems we might have.

Yesterday was worth a walk in the park. I left the office earlier than usual and stopped by one of the ponds on the way home and enjoyed the view in the warm sunshine.

The Koi did flips when they saw me and opened their mouths wide. They hadn't been fed for a few weeks since the nights are still quite chilly. Today, I treated them to some wheat germ pellets.

It was a great day that started to go awry at that very moment... After photographing the Koi, I walked into the front of the house and found Chloe standing in the foyer with the bright western sun illuminating her silky coat, and, a thick, nasty, chin-to-floor string of yellow bile saliva. It glistened in the sun but I didn't have it in me to power the camera. I had work to do.

Weekend Tidbits

Fifteen years ago, Michael and I won a "Dirty Dancing" contest at a company Christmas party. Of course, we didn't do anything dirty, but we sure had a lot of pizzazz and energy to win out of fifteen other couples!

On Saturday night, we went to Michael's company Christmas party at the Hilton in Charlotte. I've been to several dozen parties like this one in the past and there have been great parties and not-so-great ones. My definition of a great party is being on the dance floor all night long.

Our DJ, a company employee, is a hit all by himself. Last year, he really mixed it up and had everyone jumping up and down on the dance floor, refilling their drinks, and skidding out there for more. This year, he was a hit, too. He's a great dancer and entertainer but all night long I was wondering, "Where's the music, man?" Gina and Billy were with us and I wanted to see them clear the dance floor with their moves. Didn't happen. We heard sleepy songs, plenty of slow dance songs, and unrecognizable country songs. Two of his selections got a lot of people gyrating out there, Timberlake's "Sexy Back" and another I've heard a lot of on the radio having something to do with humps and lumps sung by a girl with a tiny voice. We didn't even hear the electric slide, or maybe that happened too late - after everyone left. Watching older men try to dance or dance very well is a real treat for me. Love it! I was on the dance floor only twice Saturday night and yearning to bop or jitterbug or to hear Salt & Peppa's "Ooo Baby Baby...Push it Real Good", "Mambo Number 5", Motown, or anything to make me raise my arms like I don't care and BUST SOME MOVES!

Big news in Huntersville today. Within walking distance of my house, a new aquatic and fitness center opened. I attended the ribbon cutting ceremony and took a short tour of this grand facility, the new home of the North Mecklenburg Aqua Devils. They're a U.S. competitive swim team that has produced regional and national winners and contenders but until they can produce an Olympic qualifier, they're just another team. It's been a few years since I saw Gina swim her last race in college, and since that day, I haven't been to an indoor pool. Oh, how I miss those twelve years and the smell of chlorine...the breakfast of champions!

It's not as extravagant as some pools I've spent time in, like the Naval Academy pool in Annapolis, MD, and some other colleges, but this pool is state-of-the-art.

The main pool has ten lanes, 25 meters with a 6 foot constant depth. This photo was taken on the starting block side. I think a 50 meter long course pool would have been the best choice, especially if the team wants to train future Olympians, but I guess funding woes prevailed.

Above, there is another pool specifically for therapy and some lessons, only a few lanes wide that could probably be used for warm-ups and cool-downs during competitions.

The pool deck isn't concrete or tile. It's some sort of cushiony material. There is a new, non-turbulent gutter system (nice for a few one hundreds of a second off a time!).

I'm no stranger to running swim meets, electronic timing equipment, or you name it, so I'm seriously considering sending them my resume in case they need someone to manage their office. I'd buy a bike and ride it to work early in the morning, take a step aerobics class, and use the fitness center on my lunch hour! Yeah, right!

Note: I've been trying to "beat the clock" a lot lately and rushing around too much. Plus, we are giving away this desktop computer for a new one this week and that means I'll be working at setting it up and deciding what to do with my millions of photos. Sadly for me, I might not be posting for a few days.

I'm Resisting the Temptations

Tonight I'm cheating because I'm too tired to deliver my own words. I'm copying and pasting what I read at work. It's an e-mail forward that everyone has probably seen already but it made me laugh out loud! The message hits home with me since I've been counting points and watching my weight. I can't even describe how difficult this has been during the past few weeks. It's nearly unbearable lately, especially when I walk by plates of cookies, fudge, and cheese every day and reluctantly opt to munch on celery. Right now, I'm dreaming of holiday treasures of the food variety. I will win, though, and choose romaine lettuce. And, maybe a hunk of fudge or two.

Very Important Information for the Holiday Season!

Eating Tips for The Holidays...

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.


2. Drink as much eggnog as you can and quickly. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an "eggnog-aholic" or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it! Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.


5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello???

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.


7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, pumpkin and mincemeat - have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.


10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips. Start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

Remember this motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body. But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming,

"WOO-HOO, what a ride!"

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Winter Wonderland

Watching the national weather brings back chilly and fond memories of winters in Maryland and Delaware. Living in a warmer climate now, I must admit that I long for a little snow. My friends up north will say to me, "Mary, you are insane!" But guys, I said, "a little snow!". Watching it fall gets me excited. Can't help it. Although I am way too mature now, I turn childlike whenever the white stuff starts falling. My childhood winters were spent sledding all day and into the darker hours in a sloping alley of a Baltimore row home. Euphoria! My brother and I, and the neighborhood kids, spent hours outside, from morning till night, only forced to come inside to pee, eat a little, and to change into dry clothing. Mom had the dryer tumbling all day long.

Tucked away on my old Gateway CPU are strikingly gorgeous photos of the Blizzard of '03, when in just 24 hours, we were blanketed by 20 inches. The pond had a heater ready to provide a drinking fountain for the feathery flying friends and I dug my way to the feeders right away to provide a sanctuary for them. Flocks of bluebirds, red wing blackbirds, doves, cardinals, and various others who were thirsty and hungry arrived on my pond. They skated across the ice to find a cold drink, while I snapped away. The amazing sunrises and sunsets on the Delaware flat land cast breathtaking shadows on it all. It's my goal to get these photos loaded into a new flash drive by the end of January and share them. I am dying to see them again.

Almost two years ago, while living in Delaware, we had an average snowfall - nothing to brag about, really. Before it started coming down in large, fat flakes, I rounded up the boots, gloves, hats, and made sure I had hot chocolate in the pantry. Checked the inventory of shovels. It's just so beautiful!

My last snowfall, January '05. The following day, I left Delaware for Wilmington, NC to visit Gina and I remember the outside thermometer in my car reading 4 degrees when I drove through Norfolk. See the BT? That's Bella.

The Boston bellies need protection from the frosty cold, so Michael and I were always out with the shovels to clear a nice path for them. Chloe pees first, then Bella.

The pond through the window. Waterfall keeping places unfrozen.

Does Michael miss the shoveling? I think NOT. Not at all!

Snow. Quiet. Sparkling around the lamp post. Sounds like tiny ice chips tickling your windows.

Shopping, Anyone?

Was it ever so peaceful shopping in a Christmas village?

Do you see signs of commercialism here?

While eighty percent of all people were at the shopping malls today, I passed. I'd rather strip the bed, poop patrol the yard, wash several loads of laundry, vacuum all of the floors, and shake rugs.

This is going to sound like an editorial by Andy Rooney, so please pardon me. My idea of an enjoyable Christmas shopping experience is to take the day off from work and hit the mall on a Wednesday morning at 9:30 a.m. Or, better yet, order on-line! My shopping list has gotten quite a bit shorter over the years without the teachers, bus drivers, and swim coaches on it. And even though my list is much shorter these days, I still don't care to drive to the mall on the weekends and come home exhausted and stressed out. I can do without the bumper to bumper traffic, driving around for thirty minutes to park one-half mile away from the mall entrance, wait and sweat in lines, manuever around blocked aisles, watching mothers and fathers ignore the screams of their tired and hungry children, and listening to non-English speaking vendors and customers. No sir. Not for me. My time is too limited to waste it mingling with greedy and pushy people. Just my little old opinion...

I've had the Pond Woes lately. When things aren't right in my pond, I'm out of sorts.

A few days ago, I turned the pond pump off for two reasons. It's been screaming and whining loud enough to hear it inside the house and the winds were so fierce a few days ago that the pond was losing water. That is ice, yes. Our pond installer, whom we have known since last November, is a very talkative, likeable, artsy kind of guy who loves to create beautiful water gardens but his promise to provide maintenance on his product is an outright lie. After several incidences with him, we are taking care of it ourselves. He knows me well enough to realize that when I call for help, I really need it, since I've been pond-keeping for many years and I'm not the kind of gal who won't get my hands dirty or do the work. With my hip-waders and rubber shoes, I get in with the fish and do my own clean-ups and adjustments. It's especially fun and refreshing to wade around the pond during the hot summer months! Because he is so busy, he chooses to wish us luck; therefore, since I'm a very kind person, I'll wait until after January 1 to let him know I'll no longer be needing his non-services and hand him his walking papers. I'll just need to pay someone else to correct his mistakes. Finding contractors who provide service on their products is a challenging ordeal these days...

Relief! Michael installed a new pump that we ordered from the manufacturer.

Have I been grumpy lately? A little. It's probably the diet pinching away on my last nerves. Now that I have hacked away at Christmas shopping and unreliable contractors, I want to end this post with something sweet.

A neighborhood cat came to visit today. The cat slipped through the fence and retreated, not knowing that Bella and Chloe only wanted to play..."Come Baaaaack, kitty!"

A Christmas Meme

I found this in Hasty Brook's blog today. It's fun to learn others' traditions and treasures during the Christmas season! Please join.

1. Eggnog or hot chocolate? Hot chocolate with...Peppermint Schnapps :)

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree? All wrapped in shiny foil and ribbons.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? All white, but I'm longing to go back to colors again!

4. Do you hang mistletoe? No.

5. When do you put your decorations up? We wash windows Thanksgiving weekend, then decorate the first weekend in December.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Ham and deviled eggs. LOL!

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child? A few: Relatives singing in harmony while my Dad played the piano...it was snowing on that Christmas day. Mom hanging icicles on the tree, one by one. With my brother, listening to "The Night the Animals Talked" on the "hi-fi" stereo next to the Christmas tree, our eyes wide with wonder.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I don't remember! But by the time the truth was told to me, I already knew it for a long time. I guess I was seven or eight years old.

9. Do you open gifts Christmas Eve or Christmas morning? Always Christmas morning, at the crack of dawn, in our pajamas.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? By myself because I am too particular about it. I have two trees - one decorated in silver and gold, and the other with many ornaments that have memories attached.

11. Snow- Love it or dread it? Love it and miss it very much. Missing it, meaning, seeing it fall. The rest is totally irritating.

12. Can you ice skate? Not at all! I freeze, get all tense, and fall. Can't even roller skate. But I absolutely love to watch figure skating on TV.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? (as a child) It was a pink Barbie watch. I remember being afraid to touch it - it was so beautiful.

14. What's the most exciting thing about the holidays for you? The preparation, although I admit suffering from stress during this time. For the most part, women make it all happen! I do enjoy my husband's shopping sprees and his gift-giving for disadvantaged children. Seeing my daughter give gifts and receive them. Seeing my dogs gaze at their stockings, hung by the fireplace with care...and, celebrating the greatest birth.

15. What is your favorite holiday desert? Sugar cookies, decorated, thin and crispy, that melt in your mouth.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? With the loss of our parents and our move a few states away, we are now making our own traditions. This year, we are going south of the city to see a Christmas light extravaganza. We are keeping the Italian "ravioli" tradition on Christmas Day.

17. What tops your tree? A star.

18. Which do you prefer- giving or receiving? Both! I'm a girl for goodness sakes, and easy to please! I love giving to little children more than anything.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? There are many but I love "Oh Holy Night" and "Silver and Gold".

20. Candy canes? In hot chocolate, with a shot of...Peppermint Schnapps!

21. I'm adding this question: What is your favorite Christmas movie? I have four: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol (in b&w with old Ebenezer Scrooge), and Prancer.

Grumblings and Rumblings

Before I begin this somewhat cranky journal entry, I want to talk about the wind gusts of fifty miles per hour we are having now. Snow in the mountains northwest of us, lots of it, and Charlotte is dipping to the teens by tomorrow night. Brown oak leaves are funneling and blowing past my face. The wind chimes are singing louder than I have ever heard them. When I came home from work I could see that the pond was losing water way too quickly as the wind smacked the waterfall so hard and was blowing the water up and out of it. I turned the pump off. A gloomy photo of the pond follows, far different from the ones I took just a month ago when the canna were in bloom and the grasses were high and green. The fish are laying motionless tonight. No scrambling to the surface when they see or hear me.


This is my third week of being on the Weight Watchers diet. Everyone I know who has been with the program is so pleased and successful with it. It does have its merits! During my first week on the diet, I lost two pounds despite it being Thanksgiving Week. Last week, however, I lost one lousy, lonely pound. Well, yeah, maybe I wasn't diligent with my point-keeping and I didn't exercise, but I have given up so much! Once in a while, I'll have one pretzel vs. the twenty I'd normally eat. I treat myself to one small handful of nuts a week, usually on the weekend, after weigh-in. I carry my point guide with me that constantly reminds me that one ounce of cheese equals lunch!

My handy reference guide, full of bad news.

Today was particularly challenging. Knowing I need to weigh in less than forty-eight hours from now puts the pressure on. Low-fat oatmeal for breakfast, no mid-morning snack, tossed salad for lunch with red wine vinegar, garlic, and olive oil (quite good, actually), and one stick of string cheese. Being overly busy at work, I haven't remembered to drink the water I need. I'll work on that. By 2:30, I was audibly starving. Then I received an e-mail annoucement of a birthday party for one of our security guards at 3:30. DARN! Now I need to go to a party with cake and ice cream and pass? Just before the calories-and-fat-loaded party started, I ate a McIntosh apple. I sat at the gathering with my hands folded on my lap and staring at the Breyers Ice Cream - vanilla with bean specks. Oh, my...help me! I went back to my office quickly and looked up ice cream in my reference guide. One-half cup of regular ice cream - 4 points. That's almost a whole lunch. My shoulders drooped and I sighed. Knowing I have flex points, I thought to myself, "ice cream or wine tonight?" I chose wine.

All I want to do is to lose fifteen more pounds, preferably between my neck and the bottom of my butt. It's hereditary from my father's side of the family to be top heavy. We are all built like ticks, a family of chickens, with skinny legs and little behinds. Sigh...

For dinner, I had more salad, lean meat, and I counted my baked beans, one by one. I'm not hungry anymore but my cravings are getting the best of me.

Inside my pantry, my old friends are calling my name...

Hmmm. Maybe if I walk briskly for four miles this weekend I can eat that whole bag of pretzels!

The Girl Has an Attitude

Chloe is my nemesis. This description might seem harsh, but for more than ten years, I have loved her for reasons I can’t describe right now. While writing this post, I’ll figure it out.

We chose Chloe from a litter of six when she was five weeks old. A cute and tiny Boston Terrier puppy. Oh, giggle, giggle, joy, joy! Chloe and her brother Jake were the last picks. When Chloe was eight weeks old we drove to Blue Bell, PA to bring Chloe home. The owners of the farm met us on their driveway. Great people, who bred two females twice a year to pay for private school tuition. Emerging from our car we saw two puppies playing in the front yard. One was sitting lazily, chewing on a blade of grass and the other was running circles around the other pup, carrying a two-foot long tree branch in it’s mouth. This pup was in a frenzy. Could that be Chloe? Yup. It was she. Hmmmm. I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.

For three nights, she slept in a crate in our bedroom, equipped with warm fuzzy things and a tick-tock clock. Her whine was loud enough to wake the dead and Michael camped out downstairs in the family room during those nights. I went to work in a stupor for a few days and sat at my desk thinking, “What in the world have I gotten myself into?!” From the very first day at home, Chloe wanted to rule, no doubt. I needed to grab her by the scruff of the neck, hold her in a down position, and growl at her…and soon after that, she acted as if she knew who the boss was in the house. Without fail, though, the look on her face told her story, “Ok, try it. I’m ten steps ahead of you, woman!” She was too smart. Everyone loved her but I didn’t know if I did, or not. I posted the phone number to the Boston Rescue site on my refrigerator door for two years. Why? Chloe was, and still is, incorrigible. I have never ignored her and always provided endless exercise and loving attention, as I am a serious and compassionate lover of dogs. It wasn’t enough. She was born with an attitude. Most of these incidences happened during her first five or six years. I listed them below, following the photographs.

Yesterday, the holiday stealing began. She has eaten and mutilated glass, wooden, and plastic tree ornaments over the years...probably about ten dozen. Out of spite, I guess, and getting a rise from me. Yesterday, I ignored her folly. It's hard to ignore her when there might be a hook attached to the ornament...

Bella witnessed the attack on the red ribbon. She's the first one to retreat, look guilty, and avoid eye contact with me after Chloe's antics. I coaxed her to look at me with the camera. What does her face tell you? "Please, Mom...it was Chloe...I didn't do it."

Chloe...the thinker

She went into heat early, at five months, three weeks before her scheduled spay. She was cranky and had a false pregnancy.

Early on, she perfected her stealing and running technique. We were the only family I know who ate dinner with a shake can on the kitchen table. My neighbors enjoyed her antics for many years, especially on the day Chloe slipped through the back door with the TV remote control and ran full speed through the yard with it. She’d stop long enough to chew, then run again. She’d steal steak knives from the dishwasher and other dangerous things that made my heart skip a beat and panic…on a regular basis. Ripping pot holders under the bed made her day!

She was (and still is) incredibly fast and more agile than a cat.

In the early years, her daily agenda included, “Make the woman chase me. Drive her crazy. Yowzaaaa!”

She caught a bird in flight and ate it, leaving only the skull.

While taking a walk, she's the only female dog I know that lifts her leg.

She fetched a small bunny and ate it completely.

She terrorized our cat but dear Ralphie lived a full sixteen years.

An Eastern box turtle suffered the grip of her jaws and after I slung a fifty foot coiled garden hose on top of her, the turtle rolled out of her mouth into the safety of my hands. I applied an antibiotic to his back and released him to a safer place.

I dangled a pork chop over her head in hopes she would drop the mole she killed. It worked. I scooped up the dead mole but kept the pork chop - only giving her a small piece as a reward for "giving it". That’s when I knew she might be getting a little more manageable.

Chloe annoyed the hell out of a swarm of hornets and had hives for a week.

A bee sting blew up her face to the size of a swollen Chinese Shar-pei, if you can imagine that!

Her phobia with veterinarians has been hard to handle. We even had a mobile vet come to the house a few times over the years and he suggested I purchase a stethoscope to practice with her. It didn’t work. She also freaks out when she is picked up off the floor unexpectedly.

Still today, a constant and skillful digger.

All of this gives a clear picture as to why I wonder how I love her so.

I guess the reason I love her unconditionally is because we have grown together for more than a decade. We made it. She is mature now. I survived the challenge and we are both still alive! Chloe has cataracts now and has a growing skin tag on her back. I’ll probably be leaving her at the vet in January for the first time since she was seven months old. Oh, how I’ll grieve beforehand and sob on my way to the car after leaving her, with her lead in my hand. It will be gut wrenching for me, and her, too. After all, she’s my black and white girlfriend from way back…

My sweet Chloe, the thinker. Never met a human or dog she didn't love. Except for the vet, of course.

"Silver & Gold"

On a sunny December weekend in 2002, Michael and I were getting ready for our first Christmas in Delaware. He went out for golf and I had the pleasure of the house to myself. We had satellite TV then, and I found a Christmas music station - best I've ever heard. All of our TVs filled the house with Christmas carols and holiday jingles. I don't know why, but I was giddy about the Holidays and decorated all afternoon, into the evening. I heard a song that just mellowed me out, for no apparent reason. "Silver and Gold". I don't even know the song title, nor the author! A female sang it and I guess it was probably recorded in the 50's or 60's. That day, I decided I wanted a tree dressed in silver and gold. Of course, I admire the tree I decorated that day and I still decorate a second tree in my home that I refer to as my "memory" tree, loaded with the same special ornaments dating back to the 1950's. "Silver and Gold, Silver and Gold..." I wish I could remember the rest! So, for the next ten months I collected silver and gold ornaments, including plastic ones, crystal, metal, glass balls, whatever. I'm not elaborate at all. I just like things to shine and sparkle.

This is the fourth year of my silver and gold Christmas tree and I enjoy it as much as I did in 2003. I was off from work today and decorated it. Being on a ladder to reach the eight and a half feet, it took most of my day. When finished with the ladder, I poured a little wine (just a little, being on the Weight Watchers diet....hmmph) and enjoyed hanging the ornaments while listening to Christmas Carols. Bella & Chloe slept through most of this time, Thank You. I even decorated them today in their Christmas scarves.

Photographing both girls at the same time is almost impossible...a difficult challenge, at least! Bella is a chronic head turner and Chloe usually refuses to look at me. This time, however, she looked at me with her left ear bent backwards, of course! After about 20 photos, this is the most decent one I could get. I think I feel a Boston Terrier post is starting to boil...

Note: This is my second post tonight. My first post was more lengthy than this one and I lost the whole damned thing in one click of the mouse. It wasn't me, either. It was BLOGGER. I sat in this chair, eyes wide, face blushing deep red...I've been there before and it ain't pretty. Had to walk outside to cool off and count to 10.

Seasonal Poetry

Gee, for over a week I complained about unseasonably warm weather. It was in the mid seventies, for goodness sake! Mother Nature has taken care of that. Tonight we'll shiver in bed and don the heavy coats in the morning, as we are expecting low twenties in the early morning. Brrrrrr! I've endured more frigid weather farther up north, but this is a shock to us southern folk. The koi in my pond will just drift into a slumber and will be fine, but I always check on them and hope I never see fishsicles!

This is my second post attempting Haiku. I didn't spend time on this and it shows. If anyone reads this, feel free to laugh...

Watching breath rise

Biting the extremities

Waking to winter.

This is a poem I recently received embedded in an e-mail forward. I love it.

a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre

"SHIT it's cold."

Some Things I Love

After I visited Somewhere in NJ and read "Things I Love", I wanted to make my own list. Other than all of the people I love,

Taking a long walk to the beat of music.

Bubble baths and candles surrounding me.

The calm before and after storms.

Cashews.

My pond and pools of water, any size.

Afternoon naps.

An empty clothes hamper.

Sitting in a beach chair at the edge of the surf and digging my toes in the sand.

Christmas trees and things that sparkle.

A good book that tempts me to stay up too late at night.

Laughing until I cry.

Bella, who beckons me to play 24-7.

Chloe, who can't keep her nose out of her freshly dug holes and who refuses to cooperate most of the time.

Special Ornaments

Michael and I were shooting the breeze about our ponds and decorating with our great neighbors early this evening. Suddenly, I quickly apologized to them for leaving. I had to get my camera for this. Probably one of the most colorful sunsets I've noticed since blogging. Even Michael, who isn't nearly as observant as me, was impressed by it.

The temperature reached seventy-six yesterday and even though I'm a summer lover, I was more than happy to see the thermometer read thirty degrees lower this morning. It was a sunny day with a crisp nip in the air...a perfect day for upholding my tradition to decorate for Christmas on the first weekend in December. I love December. The name of this special month sounds like music to my ears. This afternoon I decorated my first tree of two. It's a narrow tree that lights up my dining room and serves as a decoration in the window to be viewed from the front of the house. It's also my "memory tree". For many years, our main Christmas tree had a miscellaneous theme, loaded with special memories and gifts from years gone by. Now I proudly display it in the front of my house.

See the macaroni bell? It's my favorite ornament of all. Gina made this ornament in the second grade. She couldn't wait a moment to bring it out of her bookbag on a Friday near Christmas and, on that same evening, we went to a "New Kids on the Block" concert in Baltimore. Does anyone remember the rage? We got all poofed up, she with "Mall Bangs" and me with a curly perm to die for, and had a great mother-daughter night. Remember Joey-Joe? The tree ornament below the macaroni bell was her gift to us in the first grade. I have saved everything and this tree, in particular, boasts so much joy including photos of pets we loved and lost, too.

The ornament above is very special to me. If one of my dogs eats this one, I'll be a freaking maniac. I attended first grade in an old Catholic, four-room school house with wooden floors. My teacher, Ms. Griffith, cried a lot because she had charge of fifty (yes, I said 50) first grade students. Our class had a live Christmas tree to decorate and we were asked to bring one ornament from home as our offering. This is the one I chose to bring from home. I was the first kid in my class to show her my beautiful ornament and I will never forget how lovely I made her look that morning. This pink, disco-ball type ball was brighter back in 1960 (eeeeks!), but I still have it. And I have many other ornaments from my parents, vintage 1950's, that I show proudly on this narrow, special tree.

Tomorrow, I'll tackle the big one. On a ladder. No wine. I might fall.