For your planning purposes

 I can attest to this being good stuff! Keep a weather eye on the horizon and mark this on your calendar. They are delicious!

The song in my head

 Last night I added more wood to the fire around 2 AM. All was calm, and with the snow outside, all was bright. That may also have had something to do with the multiple strands of Christmas lights that were still plugged in. 

I went back to bed but didn't immediately fall back asleep. I'd heard a remake of "Do They Know It's Christmastime" and I pondered how much I have always disliked that song. To me, it's so demeaning. And I become irate over the part that goes, "tonight, thank God it's them instead of you." Grrrr! That is NOT how Christmas spirit works. It's making me mad again just thinking about it. 

Do

They

Know

It's

Christmastime

At

All?

Gah! Stop!

Of course the songs you like least are the ones that you hear everywhere. "Silver Bells" is another one. You can't go into a store without hearing someone sliiiiiiiiiiiiding through all those notes as if they were ice skating through them, a prejudice I inherited from my musical parents. And it's not just Christmas carols. When Paula Cole's "I Don't Want to Wait" came out, I swear it was every fourth song played on the radio- and I KNOW I'm not alone in thinking that. It became what would today be a meme between friends of mine at the time. Still makes me shudder to hear those first few notes. Or "All I Wanna Do" by Heart from way back in the day. I was appalled when I listened to those lyrics, and I was just a kid! 

A more recent one is "Marry You" by Bruno Mars. I want to smack him every time I hear the first verse: It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.

Grrr! NOT the example of marriage we should be setting. It's a covenant, a promise, and one that shouldn't be entered into lightly. You're supposed to cherish each other.

Do they know it's- stop it! Stop! Replace it with something else. 

Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say throw cares away.

Another inherited prejudice is that I'm firmly planted in the camp of "country music is an oxymoron." I will die on this hill. I have a few songs that I enjoy, but the vast majority of that genre could all be wiped out and I wouldn't miss it. I know some of you are fans, and good for you; it's just not my thing. We were driving the other day and I remarked to Dada that I'd rather listen to Eminem (who I wouldn't know if he approached me on the street) than country. And WHY is it that when you're driving long distances the only radio stations that come in well are country ones?! What the actual heck is up with that?

MerryMerryMerryMerryMerryChristmas

I'll leave you with a fun video if you would like something catchy other than whatever may be stuck in your head at the moment. Click here =)

Ding

Dong

Ding

Dong

BOM!

Merry Christmas 2022!

Merry Christmas from those of us up north in the winter wonderland. For days now we haven't been able to see out some of the windows because the frost is so absolute. We really don't have much snow; the driveway is covered in some spots and scoured bare in others from the wind that is down to 19 miles an hour now. Supposedly it is 9 degrees outside, feels like -10 according to my weather app. Much improved over the -33 a few days ago with the wind that made me think of Little House on the Prairie.

I bought a set of chalk markers- only white and green- and tested them out on our door to the deck. Now we can't see anything but the quick art!

This was us, watching CedarCreek online, and it's a good thing we did because the local service we headed to was cancelled because their furnace couldn't keep up. So sad! We'd been looking forward to our first new church Christmas service. I'm sure they're so disappointed because I know how much work goes into special services. Bummer! Go Put on Pants was, as usual, pantless, so you're welcome that he's blanketed. I am happy about Christmas, I promise, even though Liam caught me talking, go figure. Merry Christmas!

 

Sugarplums... or something.

 There's been a lot of crinkling and rummaging around in the kitchen lately, and not by me. Also not by rodents, just to clarify, lest that be where anyone's frets went. My beloved husband was unsupervised in a grocery store and came home with bags of sugary cereal, so there have been delighted children chomping on Cocoa Pebbles and peanut butter Cap'n Crunch (formerly known around here as "pea-doh bud-doh Kix"). 

On the trip where I was unsupervised at a grocery store I picked up some chips (as well as an entire cartful of other things whilst a beloved husband did some specialty liquor shopping and it took much longer than both of us anticipated and I hadn't had breakfast), so those have been heard being crinkled in various locations by a certain twelve year old. Sometimes whilst under a blanket.

Last night I was on my way upstairs when I heard more intentional rummaging and spotted him prying open a canister. I assumed it was this one:

It holds what's left of the Muddy Buddies or Puppy Chow or whatever you call the sugared Chex mix. It also has a scoop inside, as you can see.

I reminded him to use the scoop and not just reach in. I told him to get a small bowl to put it in. I then went upstairs to do whatever I was doing.

I didn't discover until much later in the evening that he had, in fact, been digging into the actual sugar canister (that is on the stove awaiting its turn to make almond crescents) which also has a scoop inside. 

So Merry Christmas to everyone from my kid who eats sugar straight out of the canister and doesn't bat an eye. I guess, when compared to the sugary cereal, may as well cut out the middle man and go straight to the source!

Close call for the Bosley Fool

There we were yesterday, coats on, ready to leave for church, when I noticed the baby gate leading to the basement had been slid aside and not replaced. I call, "Bos!" Nothing. I do a quick scan of the first floor, no Bos. I holler, "BOS!" A shamefaced Bosley trots up the basement steps. 

"Bos was in the basement; I sure hope he didn't eat any of the rat poison."

Dada goes down to investigate, and wouldn't you know it, the Idiot Bos ate not one, not two, but three of the small blocks of rat poison that were spread in the various corners of the basement! 

Thankfully, our amazing vet has been friends with Dada for decades (and attended college together back in the day). She is wonderful and we love her whole family. So I text her and she suggests giving him hydrogen peroxide and having him run around. The idea is that will induce vomiting.

Since he eats anything that isn't nailed down (obviously), he drinks it with no problem and we proceed to run around in the yard with him. 

No dice. Indestructodog wags his tail and doesn't give up the goods. Off we head to the vet! Of course he cried the entire 20 minute trip. Woo woo wooooooooo. "Yes, I bet you feel icky. I'm sorry, Bos." Wow wooooo wooooo wow woooo. "Well, next time stay out of the basement. You know you're not allowed down there." Wooooowwwwwooooooo. "Big dummy."

Mercy apparently isn't one of my spiritual gifts, haha.

Once we're there and he still hasn't vomited, she gives him eyedrops that induce vomiting. I'll spare you the actual visual imagine, but imagine intact breakfast kibble and mostly intact green squares of rat poison in lots of foamy bubbles. 

It's the most subdued I've ever seen him in the five and a half years we've had him. That garbage can was empty when we arrived. I'd love to think he learned his lesson, but I highly doubt it. I tell him regularly to not eat anything we don't give him, ("that includes bunny poop, Bosley. LEAVE IT.") but he doesn't listen. Post-it notes, crayons, erasers, napkins swiped right off the table, tissues, you name it. These dogs are ruining dogs for us! Anyway, she eventually gave him some anti-vomiting meds and some vitamin K that he needs to take for a month because the rat poison is an anticoagulant so we need to keep replenishing the vitamin K in his bloodstream. He wouldn't look at us. He faced away from us and sat, tail tucked under, and slightly swaying. Poor guy. Between the epic vomiting and the exercise in the cold beforehand, he had to be tired out.

Oooooooooof. *bubbles*

He's much more himself today and went his usual bananas when the mail carrier rang the doorbell, so I think he'll be fine. Let's hope we all learned a lesson!

 

Tis the Season

 I know we are not the only ones experiencing germs, so let me say that I feel whatever you're going through. Especially if what you're going through are tissues, cough drops, and NyQuil. And Lysol.

The Damonater missed last Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, went to school Thursday, and then the entire district closed Friday for a deep clean because so many students and staff were out sick. That covid/flu/RSV mess going around is no joke. We took the boys to the doctor on Monday afternoon and it was declared that Thing Two probably had had the flu as he was on the tail end at that point and had looked like death warmed over the previous week. Thing Three was diagnosed with a sinus infection that had probably begun as the flu since he started the whole mess. He's a week into his 10 days of amoxicillin and is none too pleased about it. 

He was super bummed to miss his holiday concert as the saxophone section had a cool solo part in their last song. Here's us, watching the YouTube version of the concert from the Old Lady Room:

Poor kid. We definitely used the day off to sneak in extra hours of sleep!

Here he is, following along with his music. The next concert is in February, so here's hoping everyone is healthy!

You're not seeing double

 It's not your imagination. You really have seen this setting before in a previous post. We were privileged to attend the Dave Wickerham concert at the Scottish Rite Cathedral a few Saturdays ago. He is a world-renowned organist and he regaled us with a lively holiday performance before accompanying Laurel and Hardy's silent film "Big Business" followed by a few more Christmas carols. If you ever have an opportunity to hear him, seize it. He had zero music set out in front of him and definitely put the Moller organ through its paces. I wasn't sure the firstborn would have the same interest level that the middle child had displayed towards the organ when we'd heard it this summer, but I was pleasantly surprised! Poor middle child was under the weather and decided he probably shouldn't join us. Great was his disappointment.  

My sweet Daddeeeeeeee joined us, too! 

Goofing off in the lobby where I got married a long time ago.

It was sad to see so few people attending the concert. There were maybe 100 people in the building. Social distancing was not a problem, though I wish more people could have come. The roads were dry and it wasn't bitterly cold. Still, I understand how nutty the Christmas season can get and you just can't say yes to everything. 

Take good care of yourselves and stay warm! Maybe the frigid mess that is coming will freeze all the germs. We can hope!

Scottish Rite Cathedral tour

 This post has been hanging out in my Drafts folder for months. This summer, Liam and I met up with my aunt and uncle for a fabulous tour. The Scottish Rite Cathedral is in New Castle, PA. My grandfather on my mother's side was a Mason, so our family enjoyed events at this incredible site over many years. In fact, the ballroom below is where we held our wedding reception.

In the above photo, it's set up for bingo, but you can imagine it with a catering table, a cake table, many other tables for guests, a head table along the left wall, soft twinkly lights and so forth.

I have always loved the chandeliers!

This is the foyer upstairs, off the street out front. Those of you who attending our wedding will remember seeing the snow sheeting down outside all those windows on your right. Folding chairs were set up on both sides of a long center aisle, down which I giddily exclaimed, "so and so is here! And so and so made it! And I see so and so!"

We got married during a blizzard in January of 1999. The turnpike closed. Our wedding cake didn't make it. Some of our family made it. Some guests wiped out in the parking lot and brought slushy cards that they then apologized for. Tons of people made it, (you're all a bunch of nuts, by the way), and it blew us away. Talk about feeling loved!

Anyway, back to the Cathedral. Here is a shot of the Hobart dishwasher, perhaps where my love affair with large dishwashers began, haha!

                     The coatroom upstairs off the foyer.

The glorious auditorium with two balconies, retractable pipe organ, and color-changing chandeliers. I was privileged to see both "South Pacific" and "My Fair Lady" live on that stage. 

Above photo is looking down into the foyer.

The organ also boasts a player organ that is being restored, like a player piano. I didn't even know there was such a thing. Liam and I joined my aunt and uncle on a tour of this amazing building and of all the aspects I thought would impress him, the organ hadn't even crossed my mind. One, he was blown away that it could be raised to stage level or retracted underneath it. Two, when the gentleman in the photo above who is doing some of the restoration process began to play it, Liam was absolutely floored. I don't know that he's ever been in a space that large with acoustics that vibrant. I don't even know what to compare it to. Schedule yourself a tour and ask for someone to be there to play the organ! Or better yet, this Saturday, December 10th at 7 pm, famous organist Dave Wickerham will be playing along to a Laurel and Hardy holiday movie on the huge screen, followed by a holiday singalong. Click for details: here

Not a bad seat in the house! Check it out!

Puddin'head

 I wanted to find a fun font that resembles Liam's handwriting for this post since it's his funny quote, but apparently people don't make fonts called Illegible Scrawl or Chickenscratch. 

Pity. I could use it for half our family.

Anyway, it's a good thing that I personally scribbled this one down on the backside of an envelope at some point or it'd have been lost forever. I don't even remember how long ago he said it. We seem to have been discussing which dishes we'd need for dinner. 

Me: Go get some of the little tiny pudding dishes and-

Liam: There are no little tiny pudding dishes. You get a little tiny dish or a pudding dish.

My mind went two places as I typed that. 

First to the quote in A Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin. Some of you have heard of Game of Thrones, yes? GoT is part of this series. There's lots of books and he's not done yet and he better not die before he finishes it, but that's another story. Circling back. I forget which book it's in and I'm too lazy to check, but there's a quote along the lines of "there are old sellswords and bold sellswords but there are no old, bold sellswords." I'm sure you can think of similar as there is nothing new under the sun and someone somewhere has probably already said a version of it. No tiny little pudding dish. Got it.

Secondly, I think Liam's right. I'm remembering summers at camp, specifically '94, when I must have eaten my weight in pudding during those 8 weeks. It never seemed to be enough. I had help! I didn't eat it all by myself; I vividly remember devouring it with my friends Kevin and Dan. You know how you have memories you wish you could revisit? That would be one of mine. One of my many, actually.

Now you've learned your lesson for today. One doesn't use little tiny dishes for pudding. Add some pudding (or whatever your favorite treat is) to your ongoing, neverending list and think of me when you get a minute to take care of yourself this holiday season. And please do take good care of yourself. Rumor has it kids are dropping like flies at the middle school thanks to the germs flyin' around. Get your rest and wash those hands! Bleah!

Maryland Thanksgiving 2022

 

Our kiddos only have five cousins and we are spread across multiple states, so when there's a chance to spend time together we try to seize said chance. What better time than Thanksgiving? Our Maryland branch offered to host this year, so the Ohio and Indiana branches did the driving. 

We played games including some amazing Pictionary. Last year the cousins filmed their own movie at ye olde Ohio homestead, so this year they wanted to make another in a different locale. New props, new roles, a willingness to be silly together. Such a neat tradition. These kids are so fun.

                                        

And of course there was far too much food. Lots of the traditional: turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, rolls. Then the specific-to-our-family favorites: Brazil nut dressing, sweet potato casserole, broccoli casserole, many more pies, homemade ice cream (multiple batches, of course). There was a fair amount of joking beforehand regarding, "we could just skip all the sides and have turkey and dessert..." 

Or just dessert.

The adults had reservations to an escape room, my first. We got to do A Pirate's Adventure via The Escape Game which I highly recommend. We had a blast! The amount of detail those folks put into their experience made it incredible. They even allowed us a sneak peek at several of the other rooms. They all look fascinating, so if you're in the area be sure to check them out!

We were sad to leave and do the multiple hour drive home. Why is there never enough time with loved ones? 

Trouble in getting to Solla Sellew

 There's been a road closure on one of the connectors between the town where we live and the town where we do a lot of life, haha. It was closed most of the previous school year and reopened in the spring, right before school was out for the summer. Then this fall it closed again. I've gotten so used to baja-ing around that it took me awhile to figure out the ROAD CLOSED AHEAD sign was missing yesterday. 

I should back up and say that Wednesdays are kind of nutty around here. Once I get up, have quiet time, do yoga, get Thing Three situated and onto the bus, I turn around and repeat with Thing Two who has his homeschooling co-op on Wednesdays. Since he isn't yet driving, I take him the 20 minutes or so away, trying to plot out the route that avoids most of the school traffic. Yesterday I also needed to get gas and groceries, hit Walmart, unload everything, get lunch, and return to the other town for my dentist appointment before picking up the manchild and returning home to figure out dinner. 

I was on my second trip north when I realized the sign was gone. "Hooray!" I thought. "I can go this way to pick him up!" I merrily began driving past my usual turn on which the dentist office resides and kept going for a few minutes before I realized, "waitaminute, I have the dentist FIRST and he doesn't need picked up for two more hours! Dang it!" I found a fun, half-moon driveway, apologized out loud to the people who live there for the crazy woman tearing through their driveway, and recaculated my way to the dentist's office. Sheesh. Order of operations! See? You DO use math concepts in the real world. Who knew? 

All that to say to whomever hears it that you are not alone- the holiday "I've lost my mind somewhere"-itis isn't only happening to you. And to those of you who are lonely or mourning or both, hang in there. Truly. You're loved and needed. Let someone know when you need a hug. Reach out, even though it's hard. If you're not, love on someone who is. Make this a terrific holiday season for yourself and for others. Happy December 1st!

Plugging away at #Inktober

 

Something's amiss

 I have a sassafras tree! He's almost naked, but I was completely surprised at finding one as we don't have any big ones on our property and I haven't the slightest idea where he came from. Then I discovered two more and I'm so excited! Yay for baby trees!

So first of all, I thought the picture below was garlic. In my defense, it was in a text sent to my cell phone so it was small. Upon discovering that it was A) a keychain and B) what it was (read the tag for yourself. I'm not even going to type that), my questions are C) who the heck harvests those and turns them into keychains and D) who buys them!?

Around here, we call this The PaPa broom. It hangs out on the deck, is used to sweep as many leaves as possible off the roof before the unfortunate soul who cleans the gutters gets up the ladder to finish the job, and then sends the drifts of leaves out into the yard, invariably onto the dogs who have not enough sense to move out of the way. Either of them. No joke. 

It's a PaPa broom because PaPa has had tons of these throughout my lifespan. He uses them until there are practically no bristles left, then I get the handles to prop plants up in the garden. When things die off, it looks like I'm growing a patch of brooms!

Dada said his shirt has seen better days. It reminded me of the swimsuit that Muggin tossed at the end of our Mexico trip last December, and the cheap orange purse I'd taken on the same trip that also ended up in the trash can. The orange outer layer of material was peeling off and shedding all over creation. Muggin said she'd had one that did the same thing. What have you ditched on a vacation?

Introducing Adi the Small Suitcase

 

Let me tell you a story about luggage. 

When Dada travels hither and yon to do these training programs about glass, he has to take a specific case of tools, samples, and so forth. Glass being glass, it's not light. Weight requirements vary from airline to airline. An experienced traveler is aware of these facts on some levels, but life can still throw some curveballs, things get forgotten, and reality steps in to make things more interesting.

For instance, a certain traveler began a trip to multiple countries on Airline A, which has a weight requirement of 25 kg per bag. Two bags may be carried. 

Airline B has a 30 kg total weight limit for economy class luggage. 

You begin to see the problem. (Unless you're like me, who had math trauma flashbacks as soon as anything named A is compared to anything named B and numbers are thrown in. Then my brain cowers under a table and sucks its thumb for awhile until things settle down.)

Back to the story. Dada's fracture kit bag alone is 20 kg.

He informed me via text that he's allowed to carry extra weed in the carry-ons, but not in the bag. I clarified that he probably meant more weight and he confirmed I was right. He then told me he'd bought a cheap carry-on bag (orange, above) that he stuffed to the max. His huge personal luggage was practically empty. The funniest part was that there was a high probability that he'd be asked to put his heavy carry-on bag below the plane with regular luggage anyway because of overhead bin space or lack thereof.  Things that make you go hmmm.

So enter Adi the Small Suitcase. Dada's excellent driver in Indonesia bears the name of Mr. Adi. I figured in honor of him keeping Dada safe through what I heard was crazy traffic all week, amidst families of four (including infants in arms) riding  the same scooter together and so forth, we'd christen the cute little suitcase after him. 

Now I'm realizing those are unfortunate initials...

Just some pretty pictures

 This font is called Caveat. I thought I'd try something that looked pretty now that things are starting to look worn out in the great outdoors. These were all taken at the beginning of November. Our neighbor's red tree/bush/shrubbery is so vibrant and lovely, even moreso in real life. I wish sunsets and bright colors came out in photos as true as they do to our eyes, but I guess our manmade stuff just can't quite keep up, hehe!

I  love sunlight!