Christmas is coming

We've been a bit behind with some of our Christmas stuff this year. This is the first time EVER that our tree was not up on Thanksgiving weekend. I'm actually hugely relieved about that. I love Christmas, I love (and sooo much appreciate) that Robert does all the decorating, but having a tree up from Thanksgiving through New Year's is too long.

Many, many years ago, we stopped buying "live" trees and bought a fake one. Robert bought it at a terrific discount one December 26 when he was working at BEST. The idea of a fake tree has always been a little embarrassing to me, but that's offset by the fact that we don't have to drop $ every year just on a tree. Besides, it never drops needles, and *I* am not the one that ever has to set it up.

Holly and Trevor think a fake tree is normal. (Maybe it is, but it brings to mind those white metal things from the 1970s.) They were shocked when Robert brought home a real tree this year; they were embarrassed by the real tree. It's gorgeous, and trees here are cheap, almost half of what they are in Colorado. (Isn't that funny?)

Our tree finally went up a week or two "late." I just pulled my Christmas dishes down this week (another one of those Dec. 26 BEST sales). We're doing okay on our shopping; I plan to finish it tomorrow. But I've procrastinated endlessly on Christmas cards, so much that I was thinking we might have to send Happy New Year cards instead. For years, we've sent the card photos, and I didn't really consider doing anything different.

In one of my brilliant moments, I decided we ought to head up to the Appalachian Trail to take our pictures. Never mind that we had to wait for good weather. Never mind that we had to drive an hour. Never mind that Robert's not up to hiking of any sort. Never mind that, despite scouring the internet for days, I had absolutely no clue where we were going. Since it was 70 degrees yesterday, I knew it'd be a perfect day to have wonderful family time, AND at least see the Trail, AND get those cards taken care of. AND everyone was thrilled (not).

I missed the first turn and tried for my second option. We ended up a mile down a dead end road, plastered everywhere with NO TRESPASSING signs. We gave up and went back to the first place, eventually finding the reservoir. We asked the ranger which way the Trail was. He pointed to a ridge three miles away--not exactly what I'd had in mind, as we'd planned to be home for dinner. But the lake was gorgeous, and as long as we didn't stay more than ten minutes, the ranger wouldn't charge us the $10 admission fee.



There's nothing like being prepared--not that I would know anything about that. We didn't have any type of tripod for the camera, so set it up along the rail. I kept telling them we'd need more than five photos to get a good family picture.

(This didn't make the cut, as I inhaled so much I almost fell over.)

But they were too busy having that "family fun" to listen to me. They continued to skip rocks into the lake, as I ran toward the car, sure that we'd been there too long.


We'd stopped at a Mexican grocery along the way, in our never-ending search for whole green chiles. We'd stopped in a tack store. On the way out, we wandered through an older, mostly abandoned cemetery, and drove through the gorgeous Hollins University campus.

And the Christmas card picture? We decided to take it at home, down by the creek. By the time we were all ready to go today, it was getting too dark. We ended up taking our pictures on our back deck. Like yesterday, we propped the camera up on the railing, and like yesterday, we took a total of five shots. We finally found a winner! Okay, so we didn't have to drive for an hour, but it wasn't quite as much fun either!

If it's December . . .

then maybe this is Australia.

Monday morning, 7:30 a.m. 60 degrees.
Tuesday morning, 12:30 a.m. 60 degrees.

Monday was record breaking.

Trevor and I celebrated with Dairy Queen.


We walked around downtown.

The sunset was spectacular.


I revel in this weather.

Robert sits on the porch at 9 p.m. in shorts and a tshirt, grumbling and wishing for snow. He's going to move north, he swears. Somewhere cold. Boston.

I reply, "See ya later, baby!"

Heater's off, windows are open. This is great.

Random thoughts and New Life Church

I am heartsick.

Not a church that we belonged to, but a church a few miles away from our house in Colorado Springs. The kids attended an amazing homeschool co-op there 1-2 times a week for the past two years. It's a large church, over 10,000 members, we've attended a few functions there, and we knew a lot of people there.

I cried today when telling my kids. I didn't want to tell them; but neither did I want them to hear or see of it somewhere else first.

It is so difficult, impossible, to understand how this can happen. At church. Sisters. At Christmas, as we eagerly anticipate celebrating the birth of our Savior.

Two staff members at a missionary center.

How can any family find comfort in that?

And what about the family of the gunman?

As I try to explain to my kids, I want to offer them any kind of comfort, any kind of reassurance . . . and I cannot. The places that regular, NORMAL people see as safe, schools, churches . . . evil takes as opportunity.

We grieve again with a church which has already undergone so much heartbreak, so much public scrutiny. And they've shown they can truly walk in the Spirit. They'll continue too, I have no doubt.

The security guard, armed, female. Holly and I discussed the irony this morning. Two days ago, it would have been shocking to hear of an armed guard at church. And this woman saved untold lives. Rob and I saw her interviewed on tv tonight. She's amazing. She clearly sees God's plan for her part in this.

Trevor said tonight that he was very glad it was the same gunman at Youth With a Mission and New Life. He said he worried that if there were two, the one that got away would come here.

I know it comes back to celebrating our Savior. Christmas. Resurrection. As adults, it's hard enough to try to make sense of this . . .

* * * *

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:10

Weekly menu

buffalo chicken pizza from Sam's Club!

cheeseburgers, pasta salad

blats (blts with avocado), cottage cheese, tortilla chips and salsa

meatloaf, baked potatoes, broccoli

quiche, spinach salad

sweet and sour meatballs, rice

?????, Dorothy's colcannon (let's try for that again)



Lunch (with or for):
smoothies
grilled PB&J

On the back burner:
mango chipotle chicken sausage
reuben sandwiches, pasta salad, chips
grilled flank steak
fondue
taco salad

Book Review - Spirits in the Field by Bruce Hopkins

Author Bruce Hopkins is drawn back to his native Appalachian roots in the mountains of Kentucky when the Department of Transportation announces plans to construct a new highway. The proposed highway will cut directly across Hopkins' family graveyards, some of which date back 200 years.

Hopkins spends six years unearthing . . . umm, digging through . . . (okay, I'm really sorry) his family history in an attempt to trace the graves, some of which are unmarked.

It's an interesting book. However, the author carelessly throws around the names of two dozen dead people, and it's impossible for the reader to remember who is who. There's not even an accompanying tree or chart to help. I didn't care for the author's "retellings" of his imagined lengthy conversations between people he never knew. I liked reading of his earlier childhood memories, and his continual struggles with the DOT in an effort to get them to comply with the laws regarding re-burials.

I wouldn't necessarily recommend this book, but it kept me entertained long enough to finish it within a few days. Chalk it up to yet another in a string of obscure books, I suppose.

I'm here -- kind of!

Second part of my whirlwind week:

We lucked out twice with the weather. At least I am happy. We had a few snowflakes in the air on Wednesday morning. Other places had real snow, and as a result Holly's riding lesson was postponed. The kids and Robert were wishing for real snow here though.

I was able to get next week's school schedules written on Thursday. (Of course, I might not get them typed up until Monday morning . . . )

Yesterday morning, the weather was bad again, icy roads and a head on accident on the highway we take to Roanoke. All was clear in the afternoon for my lovely minor female-type surgery. It went fine. I stayed in a pain med-induced stupor and went to bed by 8:00. I'm not in any pain; I'm just working hard at preventing it. :) Each time I tried to crawl out of bed this morning, I returned ten minutes later. Again, no pain, definitely a good thing! Even my face is numb.

I was able to make my appearance at the neighbor's jewelry party. After getting my car stuck in their driveway (it's across the street, but I drove), I called Robert to rescue the car. Once inside, I stumbled over an unexpected step, but at least I wasn't the only one. The most amazing thing is that I didn't fall flat on my face.

Trevor really had wanted to go to the local homeschool group Christmas party tonight. Knowing that I wouldn't be up for making the potluck food, I asked him what he wanted me to bring. "Stouffer's Macaroni and Cheese," he suggested. Ah! Perfect! I pulled it out of the freezer, baked it in the over, and stuck it in my own casserole dish. It was the second dish to disappear tonight, right after someone else's chicken nuggets. :) And Robert made chocolate chip cookie bars. We stayed at the rather small party for two hours, leaving before the group went caroling.

So far, so good. Now I'm ready for bed.

I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but it doesn't really matter. I'm not at the point of remembering much yet.

Yawn.

Trevor's art

Trevor and I read this book today as he learns the history of medieval Japan.


But I have my own boy who draws cats.


I need to find a good drawing teacher for this kid . . .

One of those DAZE

I never did get my menu up yesterday, which means I have no idea what we'll be eating this week. Now that I have some idea (and 2/7 of the week has passed), I don't know when I'll actually shop for these things. I think I'm overly optimistic.

We woke up today when our power went out at 4 a.m. I woke up, Trevor woke up. I woke Robert up to get a flashlight, and when I made my way to Trevor's room, Holly was awake and said he could come into her room. I fumbled around in the basement to find the regular phone (our others are cordless and plug in), and I called the power company. I woke up again at 6 and a 7, when our power went on for a few seconds and shut off again. Really--at that point, why in the world should anyone get up?

At 9:15, everything came on for good--including the heater--so it was a good time to crawl out of bed. School was called off for the day.

At lunchtime (not that anyone had actually eaten lunch), we headed to Roanoke. We were in a desperate crunch to buy Holly shoes. She's been needing something for winter, and she needed it for tonight. Her pink flip flops or bright blue Crocs weren't going to work.

After racing through the mall, we made our next appointment. I volunteered the kids to work at a food pantry one afternoon a month. This was the first day, and we spent a few hours sorting food, stocking shelves, etc. It went pretty well, and Holly and Trevor did a great job.

Holly had a Christmas party tonight through her 4-H group--a Chinese food potluck. While in town, we picked up Chinese takeout and a present before heading home. She had just enough time to change clothes and we were out the door again.

The party was fine--I guess. All the moms stayed, but I stayed in the kitchen and chatted with another mom while the girls did their stuff in other parts of the house. The leader is a local high school teacher, and he led the girls in prayer before beginning--that was a nice plus for the evening. They had a "Dirty Santa" gift exchange (where you can steal someone else's present), and Holly ended up with a nice bracelet. She had a good time.

It was one of those "daze," in part because it's one of those weeks. The next several days will be just about as crazy--and it might snow tomorrow afternoon . . .

Weekly menu

pumpkin soup, cornbread

YOYO

Emily's Greek soup, rolls, pretzel jello salad

Chicken Divine, scalloped potatoes (box), Ginger's Spinach Salad

Robert's choice

homeschool group Christmas dinner

smoked pork chops, Dorothy's colcannon, ???


Lunch (with or for):
smoothies
grilled PB&J

On the back burner:
blts, cottage cheese, tortilla chips and salsa
reuben sandwiches, pasta salad, chips
grilled flank steak
fondue
taco salad

A Christmas parade

Our county seat's population is 4,000, and our county 's is about 50,000. So I was, mmm, curious about what the Christmas parade would be like. We were a little surprised to hear that there were 110 entries.

Holly wasn't so interested in going; neither was Robert. I almost decided to skip the whole thing, but thankfully, Trevor expressed his enthusiasm, and we were off. I'm weaning myself from that "city" mode of thinking--that you have to get there an hour ahead of time to get "good" seats. We arrived about five minutes early. There was a great turnout, and we found easy parking less than two blocks away.

The parade turns right and circles downtown at the stoplight there.



It was sprinkling very lightly, and we found a dry doorway to wait for the parade to begin. Trevor found a friendly dog.



The first several cars were convertibles and kept their tops down, even with the misty rain (which only lasted 10 more minutes).

As expected, there were the usual marching bands and cheerleaders.



And baton-fire twirlers. It was mid-40s, and I bet these girls were cold.



The real name of the parade might have included the word "CANDY." Every single group that went by threw out handfuls of candy to everyone. We noticed some kids watching had grocery stacks to hold their stash. At some point, my kids were overwhelmed and stopped even picking it up.

I diligently did my part.



There were boy scouts and church groups.



And Sponge Bob and Jesus. ????



Please tell me that every parade has floats pulled by semi's.



And Tim the Toolman Taylor lawnmowers.



And floats pulled by tractors.

Please?



Robert expressed his desire for this tractor, prompting the woman next to us to inquire if we had a large spread of land. We laughed. I don't think he could turn this around on our street.

The whole thing lasted almost an hour and a half, and then we got to join the parade of cars trying to get out. But that was well worth it. It was a great day, a great parade, a great way to kick off the start of Christmas in our new town. I am SO very glad that Trevor wanted to go!!! It's a day I won't ever forget. :)

Christmas flowers

Robert brought two of these home for me the other day. Normally, I'd think, "Poinsettia, schmoinsettia." I'm kind of a flower scrooge--all I can think about is how much money they cost. But these are so pretty! I love how they are sprayed with glitter to make the leaves sparkle.

Did you know that the colored top leaves really are leaves, not flowers? The flowers are the tiny little yellow things in the middle.

Poinsettias are a native plant of Mexico, and that's where the plants first became associated with Christmas. An old legend tells of a child who had no gift to bring the Christ child at Christmas Eve services. After being told that the most humble gift, if given in love, would be acceptable in His eyes, she picked a bouquet of weeds from the side of the road. When laid at the foot of the nativity, the weeds bloomed red and green, and people were sure they'd experienced a miracle.

* * *

And now you know why I do well at Trivial Pursuit.

A 21st Century Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a Mom who was not a technological wizard. (That would be last night.)


She was happy that way. She did not like to stretch her mind at all to learn new things. She believed that denial was a good thing. (Works for me.)

This served her life very well for many years. But her 9 year old son didn't go for it.

"Mom," he said one day, "I want to download the Ben10 song onto my MP3 player."

The Mom secretly worried. Although she'd crossed giant rivers and moved mountains, this could be the biggest challenge she'd faced yet. (But she would do anything for this sweet boy.)


"Of course, my darling," she lovingly replied. "It will be easy." ( And she began desperately googling 'MP3 downloads for idiots,' all of which were far too complex for her to understand.)

Unfortunately, the Mom could not find the computer discs that had been packed away in the basement. (And was thus able to gain an overnight reprieve.)

The next morning, the little boy was ready to go at 7:00 a.m. The Mom was ready to leave two hours later. Because the Mom always wants low prices, they found themselves at Walmart.


Inside the store, the Mom was overwhelmed by the choices.


She sought assistance from the clerk. (Correctly assuming that anybody under the age of 40 could help.)

The clerk did not understand the Mom. "You just need a USB cord. Why do you need a disc?"

"Oh, no," assured the Mom, "it doesn't have a USB port." (She called Robert immediately, to double check that there was no port. Fortunately, he's a tad more technical than she is.)

"Well, you see," explained the Mom to the clerk, "he has this player . . . "

"Oh!" exclaimed the girl knowingly, "It uses MP3 **format**!" (She's clearly used to helping idiots.)



The Mom's brain began to hurt. Her eyes glazed over as she continued to smile brightly and pretend to understand. Sixty seconds later, the Mom had the discs clutched in her hand, and the little boy led her to the checkouts.

(Incredibly, at 9:30 a.m. on Dec. 1, there were no lines at Walmart.)


Now came the hard part. (Because you can't just download it and save it immediately to the disc. Apparently. Maybe. Maybe not.)


The Mom worked hard at the computer. An hour later, she gave the new disc to the little boy.




It worked! Yay, Mom! Yay, little boy! Now the little boy can do all the downloading on his own. The Mom can go back to her happy state of denial and ignorance.

And they all lived happily ever after.

"Instant human, just add coffee"

The problem is that I've started feeling not so human--hot, racing heart, and more. Thankfully, it's not hot flashes. I'm drinking too much coffee. I didn't begin drinking coffee until about five years ago. Never a big fan of moderation, I worked my way up to almost two pots of coffee a day.

Given enough coffee, I could rule the world. ~Author Unknown

Until now, caffeine has never bothered me. But after having these weird feelings for more than a week, I realized it was time to cut back. On Thanksgiving, I drank just one cup. I was thrilled with my self, until Friday morning came, along with the caffeine withdrawal headache. I spent half the day in bed, and it took two cups to feel human again.

I'd stop drinking coffee, but I'm no quitter. ~Author Unknown

It was obvious that I needed to find a happy medium, so I'm settling on four cups a day. I'm a little bummed, I really like my coffee.

Way too much coffee. But if it weren't for the coffee,
I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever.
~David Letterman

And that's what I'm most afraid of.

My pink orange morning

"Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you."
Isaiah 60:1

Around the house

"Tradition is the illusion of permanence." Woody Allen.

As much as I don't care for Woody Allen, the quote was perfect. This is our third house, and we've followed a few traditions at each one. In Littleton, within days of moving in, we cut down a giant pine tree alongside the driveway. It blocked our eating area window and it scratched the cars. We cut it down at dusk; we didn't want to risk freaking out the neighbors by cutting it down. But it was early summer; I'm sure the chainsaw could be heard a few blocks away.

In Colorado Springs, we quickly cut down "gardens" of junipers. I've never been a juniper fan. (It comes from having a front yard full of them growing up, and not having a front lawn. Sorry, Dad!) These junipers lined our driveway, and we reseeded with grass. It was in the middle of a drought, but we were quite anxious to hide any existence of the junipers. Shortly after that, we had to cut down a lovely tree in our backyard. It was rotting and at risk for damaging the house. When Robert cut it down, I watched as it missed our patio cover by inches. Robert, I'm sure, planned it that way.

At our new house, we have literally countless trees. We've cut a few down already, mostly thin or unhealthy ones close to the house. I didn't catch pictures of those. The one in this shot was sticking out a little too close to the driveway. Now I won't have to worry about hitting it anymore.

I think the "cut down" urge comes really from the desire to put our own imprint on any new house. We don't want to live in someone's old house. (Even if no one's ever lived in this one before.)

* * *

I stopped by the post office today. Our old post office was consistently the worst one I've ever been to, and I learned to avoid it at all costs. The new post office is consistently the best one I've ever been to, and I am glad for the opportunity to go.

For starters, when I got there today, I was the only car in the parking lot. Even though I had "valuables" in my car, I didn't lock the door. At the counter, Larry helped me. Larry always helps me, he's the only employee I've ever seen there. I love that I know his name.

When I left, I wasn't grumpy. (Because I didn't stand in line for 20 minutes.) Instead of jumping in my car and racing off to my next errand, I wandered through the parking lot and took pictures. I can say that I would never have done that before.

I'm still waiting for the "bad" weather here.

When I got home, I walked back to the start of my driveway just to take more pictures. I don't think I've ever done that too often before either.

And Holly makes dinner

Holly agreed to make our French Toast Casserole for dinner tonight. I've been wanting to get her in the kitchen more, and this was a great opportunity. While I would like to cook *with* her, I'm sure she appreciated that I was busy with Trevor and she was on her own.

It was a big hit with all of us. And we weren't just being nice. (Because we aren't that nice.)


FRENCH TOAST CASSEROLE

12 loaf of French bread, cut into 1" cubes
6-8 eggs (we used 8, I'd probably cut back next time)
2 c. orange juice
1 c. milk
4 t. sugar
1 t. vanilla
1/2 t. nutmeg
3/4 t. salt

Topping:
2 T. butter
3 T. sugar
2 t. cinnamon

Place bread cubes into a 9x13 pan. Mix eggs, orange juice, milk, sugar, vanilla, nutmeg, and salt. Pour over bread. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours (or overnight).

Just before baking, dot with butter. Combine sugar and cinnamon, and sprinkle over all. Bake at 350 for 50 mins. (Do not cover while baking.) Remove from oven and let stand 5 mins. before serving. Serve with maple syrup. (We forgot to use the syrup and we still loved it.)

Book Review - 'Shine by Rodger Doss

(Alternative title: Yet another book from off the beaten path)


Another "local" book lent to us by our neighbor, 'Shine places fictional characters into real locations of my town. (With a population of 2,000, I use the word "town" very loosely.) Our county holds the title of "Moonshine Capital of the World," and this is the story of Grady and his friends in the 1950s. Grady is a moonshine runner like his father; the father ends up dead, along with another of the father's friends. It's no surprise that Grady traces the murders to their involvement in illegal liquor, but Grady's not talking.

The author awkwardly attempts to tie in NASCAR origins with the bootleggers. Grady gives up his driving runs to race stock cars at Starkey Speedway, and the last few chapters of the book throw in a lot of famous racing names from the '50s.

I enjoyed recognizing roads, intersections and towns from 50 years ago that I am now familiar with. While everyone here wasn't directly involved in illegal liquor, it definitely permeated every corner of the county. While federal law enforcement has presently changed its focus to other contraband, I have no doubt that moonshine is still made in parts of the county today.

In 2000, following a two year investigation, ATF and ABC shut down a large moonshine operation here. Arrested were descendants of Prohibition-era moonshiners, now using as many as five to ten 800-gallon stills at once. While googling, I found an interesting NY Times article from March 2000, linked here.

Back to the book. Apparently anything, no matter how obscure, is worth reading if it causes me to find out more about the topic.

Weekly menu

McDonald's (what can I say, we promised the kids that we would the next time we were in town)

sausage, French toast, grapefruit

chile rellanos, guacamole, chips

crab cakes, scallops, broccoli, couscous -- Trevor's long-awaited seafood night!

pumpkin soup, cornbread, pretzel jello salad

ravioli, garlic bread, salad

Emily's Greek soup, rolls


Lunch (with or for):
smoothies
grilled PB&J

On the back burner:
blts, cottage cheese, tortilla chips and salsa
reuben sandwiches, pasta salad, chips
grilled flank steak
fondue
taco salad
Chicken Divine, scalloped potatoes (box), Ginger's Spinach Salad
Dorothy's colcannon

Miscellany

A few months ago, I was pleased to see "Red Beet Eggs" at the local Walmart. It doesn't take much to please me. (Robert would absolutely die if he read that.) A few days ago, I pickled my own. I love pickled eggs, and I remember my dad making them for us when I was little. I don't know the "real" recipe, but here's how I make them:

Pickled Eggs

1 dozen hard boiled eggs, peeled
2 cans sliced pickled beets

Put the eggs in the bottom of a pitcher. Pour cans of beets with all the juice, being sure that the eggs are completely submerged. (Sometimes I toss in an extra 1/4 cup of white vinegar and a tablespoon of peppercorns.) Refrigerate for at least two days.


Trevor and I love these. Even Holly will eat them at two days. Robert stays faaaaaar, faaaaaar away.

Are you completely grossed out?

* * *

Trevor has always admired rubber band balls. He went looking for our rubber bands the other morning, asking how to start his own rubber band ball. While I'm oh-so-slowly trying to google it, he figured it out on his own. He used the whole package of rubber bands.


It was pretty cool! I'm glad I don't use rubber bands very often, because the ball seems to have disappeared and I have no idea where it is now.

Book Review - Genesis of a Virginia Frontier: The Origins of Franklin County, Virginia, 1740-1785 by T. Keister Greer

This is a pretty obscure book (understatement). Our neighbor lent this to us, along with a few other books detailing local history. I really enjoy reading these types of books in general; I love recognizing names and places and delving a little into the history of where I live.

Originally written in 1946 as a thesis for the University of Virginia, the book records the earliest known English settlers to the area, along with the formation of the county (which was eventually formed from parts of six adjoining counties). It's not the most engaging book, and I skimmed most of it. However, it remained of some interest to me, even if I won't remember 98% of it. (Oh well.)

There's no reason to recommend this book; it's of no importance to anyone outside of the area. But again, I'm glad I had the oppootunity.