2011 Holiday Home Tour

Time for the 2011 Holiday Home Tour coordinated by Jen on the edge. The spiffy, collectible Hallmark ornaments probably made the move, but there's no telling just where the box came to rest in the attic of New House. The important kid-made ornaments are all on the tree. This is a vast improvement over last year's sad, mostly naked branches. (At least the lights, star, and garland made it on before the 2010 Holiday Home Tour. That was definitely not a given.) Not that there's a tremendous difference in the look of the Christmas decor around here aside from the less indifferent application.



There was a vast difference between last year's apathetic (at best) decorating and this year's day-after-the-day-after Thanksgiving festivities. Still reeling from the Boy's sudden departure from our midst, it was a challenge to find desire for anything remotely festive. This year, that circumstance remains, but we worked around it. Rather than a family affair, Middle Child's two BFF's helped fluff the wish-I-was-pine tree, draped themselves and, eventually, the tree in garland and ornaments, and generally made the whole chore genuinely merry with their antics.

 

Middle Child and the Best Kind of Friends



Skater Girl and Middle Child

 

Ovation

Ovation has been running their annual Battle of the Nutcrackers. My holiday heart goes pitter-pat for Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker Suite". There have been three opportunities to see live performances over the years, but anytime there's a televised version I'm either glued to the screen or at least letting the music play in the background. If we skipped the tree, cookies, and all the other hoo-ha, the one secular tradition that would be sorely missed is the opportunity to see the ballet performed and be immersed in the score.

A dirty, little secret: I do not like classical music. (That's a generalization. There are some specific pieces that do have appeal.) So, when there is a little something that I like, it's a surprise. Perhaps the Nutcracker's appeal is linked to the memory of dressing up in a so-unlike-me Laura Ashley fancy party dress in teal cotton that looked a lot like this: Not being a girly girl, it was a rare thing to wear such a garment. The feeling of twirling in that dress is forever linked in emotional memory to the Nutcracker. Even now, with gimpy knees, there's an irresistable urge to give in to the occasional twirl around the living room in response to the Waltz of the Sugar Plum Fairy. So, thank you Ovation for providing a near endless supply of Christmas Cheer and to my mother for splurging on That Dress and those tickets for that very first performance.

Chained

Our church's Christmas decorations include a stage with a wall decorated in layers of paper chains. Using lights, the chains are made to look somewhat metallic, and the effect is pretty nifty. The finished result looks something like a textured painting filling the back wall. Here's a photo of the unfinished project from November:

Our family pitched in along with other volunteers the weekend before Thanksgiving to create lengths of paper chain that were used for the design. The task coincided with a certain truncated list of reasons to be thankful this year. Thinking of the list and the paper chains inspired an Idea. Each item included in The List is written on a strip of paper. Those strips become the base of a paper chain. Blank strips of paper, a marker, and the stapler are left out so that others may add links to the chain throughout Advent. On Christmas Day, our family can enjoy reading through the list to appreciate all the Good Stuff. Even The Boy will be able to participate from afar by calling in or mailing his additions. This could easily become an annual tradition.

Listing 2011, Part IV

The post-Thanksgiving listing of the good stuff goes on...

40. The "extra" teenagers who joined us to decorate the Christmas Tree this year.
39. Staying up late watching spy movies with Middle Child.
38. The possibility of our first freeze tonight.
37. Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches for dinner.
36. Prayer.
35. That Skater Girl did not refer to "butt dialing" as a "booty call" in public before we discovered her mistaken assumption that they were the same thing.
34. That first whiff of pine as we walked past the Christmas Trees for sale at the market.
33. Belly laughs.
32. The start of Track Season for the Runner Girls on Monday.
31. The beginning of the Christmas message series at church this weekend.
30. Jane Austen.
29. Contentment.
28. My daughter wrapped in a quilt my mother made.
27. The trust of my children.
26. Memories.

Listing 2011, Part III

Thanksgiving was yesterday, but I'm continuing the list of things to be thankful for despite Black Friday:

50. I'm thankful for awareness:

Christmas Conspiracy from Christ Fellowship on Vimeo.

49. For the opportunities being offered through Reach Out Honduras that will open doors to those who live in need beyond what I have ever known.
48.  My son who has the potential to graduate from high school early if he can make the most of his opportunities.
47. Renewed relationships.
46. Giggling.
45. My mister. (He gets at least as many mentions as coffee... they're among my favorite addictions.)
44. Ally and Susan for backing up the theory that pumpkin pie is breakfast food.
43. Literacy.
42. Leftovers.
41. Being left-handed.

Humbug

Once October 1st rolls around, an internal clock starts ticking. It grows progressively louder until the little details related to the Thanksgiving and Christmas Holidays have been organized into lists. Then the clock resets until those lists have either been satisfied or abandoned. The abandonment issues are relatively new traditions. Last year, we failed to actually decorate the tree. It sat in the living room with the tree skirt beneath and the star at the top. There may or may not have been a garland or two partially threaded through the limbs. This is a world of difference from the years when we strung garlands, wish-I-was-pine boughs, and ornaments from every surface that failed to escape. There were liberal applications of glitter and ribbon. Holiday table cloths sat beneath collections of Christmas Tree china. Stockings were hung. Holiday baking threatened the waistlines of those far and near. Christmas pictures were a Major Production...

This year, the arrival of October has renewed the question of whether this year will be another Blah Humbug sort of year, or if perhaps we can see the reawakening of a bit of Christmas Spirit. After all, the clock has begun ticking. This weekend, an old picture of Skater Girl (circa 2004 at the ripe old age of 3) inspired the creation of Christmas cards a full month before such things would have been completed in the Good Old Days. The photo selected rather fits the attitudes toward the holiday season around here over the last year or two. (Okay, she was trying to catch snowflakes. Still...) That said, perhaps it announces a return to our family's once festive celebrations and the departure of the humbug.

Picture Post: Merry

The tree never did get so much as a single ornament on the branches.

Christmas Eve worship rocked. The bass player is hot.

Christmas Eve lunch with my parents, brother, and sister-in-law was yummy.

Bored with waiting for teenagers to wake up on Christmas morning, I started taking pictures with full flash. Middle Child's first waking words were, "Oh, this can not be good..."

Little Bit was very, very Nice this year.

The blanket and the coffee were both entirely necessary to ward off the chill despite last week's 80+ degree heat. It was feeling a lot like Christmas around here today.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!

Joy

Last Christmas was a little weird. This Christmas has been hard to even recognize. A pep talk from Walker kick started the conversations with the fam identifying just what needed to be a priority as the Advent Calendar dipped from double digits into single with alarming speed. Still, it's been a challenge to find the joy in the season. And then, it was here. Our church opted for two Christmas Eve services. The first Christmas Eve Service ran December 23rd earning it the title "Christmas Eve Eve".
Turns out that was just the thing. Traditionally, the 23rd is the day and evening for running crazy to finish up grocery and gift shopping. There are eight One Last Trip drives to the store with each one involving impulse purchases in hopes of avoiding the subsequent trip. There was still some of that with a couple of small gifts still on the list, milk and coffee both needed, and the mister and I trying to finish up holiday party attire for the Company Christmas Party (that has conveniently rescheduled to be a Company Holiday Party on New Year's Day). Little Bit's shoes were also trashed and her foot is growing. Anywho. The point here is not all the running around during the daylight hours. After dark, we left the main streets and the crazed drivers to join those arriving at the church building.
There, we greeted our loved ones exchanging hugs, chatter, and Christmas wishes until the lights began to lower with the filling of the sanctuary. The music swelled. It filled the room transforming from notes into Worship. The congregation became Worshippers. After a month spent examining the names of Jesus,  the final name "Yeshua" was woven into the narrative of the Christmas Story as Shakespeare's Juliet was quoted asking what was in a name. The answer was that the name we celebrated last night was not any ordinary name, but that brought on Angel's mighty lips from Heaven itself. A name spoken first to Mary and then to Joseph, and last night proclaimed again and again.
I lay awake until just past midnight thinking of God's Son on a night usually given over to the worldly and cultural trappings of Christmas. And even though all is not right in the world, there is peace in it because the day when we celebrate the birth of the Mighty King is upon us. And in the dark and stillness, there was a sweet, quiet joy that had been missing. If you wish to join in the celebration with Christ Fellowship, a live online service will run tonight at 7:00 Central.

Greetings

In today's mail, there was a card from the Boy. Not that he has access to a store or funds to buy such a thing. Yet, there was unmistakeably a card with the Boy's return address mixed in with the less interesting pieces. I opened the slightly mangled envelope to see a deep blue card featuring Mary, Joseph, and a donkey headed up a hill where a star shown brightly (if a smidge prematurely). A church group had been to visit the young people, and they brought candy and Christmas cards. Our Boy, who had no card to send us, chose to write his own greeting on the blank left side of the card he received so he could pass it on to us. (The value of those things least available... and he chose to give us from what little he had received. Oh. My.) It is quite a gift to have this folded rectangle of paper that he held in his hands just days ago.

If you happen to be someone who visits those who are alone this Christmas, thank you. It's a gift not only to those who are alone, but also to those who are lonely for them.

Festive

Because this is Texas, the temps were in the 80's yesterday. This made our Christmas tradition of walking through neighborhoods to look at the light displays entirely reasonable since it was still 68 well after dark. We wandered up and down the streets of new neighborhood pointing out the spectacular and the strange alike. This year had a couple of memorable moments including a Christmas Tree made of lights with a bizarre strobing effect that looks like the star is shooting lasers at the grass a la Star Trek, a creepy light-up reindeer that looked more like a llama with a head that turned to follow us in our progress, and an inflatable Santa and reindeer who (thanks to under inflation) appeared to be wrestling in one of the yards.
As we attempted to uneventfully move on by a house where Middle Child wished to remain unobserved by the Mean-Girl-Who-Lives-There (who probably wasn't watching or listening, but...), Erin proceeded to ask in her best outside voice, "Who lives there?! Who did you say?!" Repeatedly. A few houses further along the same street, I noticed an intriguing ornament above a garage door. I stated, "Oh, look... a cat in a... bucket? How... festive." This blond moment perplexed the mister and the girls initially. On further inspection of the decoration in question, they laughingly informed me that the cat-in-a-bucket was actually a pair of bells with a bow. Which made more sense, but kind of lacked originality.

Gifted

Middle Child's Christmas observance was all about the gifts. She wants to make lists of potential gifts and recipients, shop-til-she-drops (which is way past when her middle-aged mother drops), wrap lots of gifts in festive paper, and make piles of pretty packages. This year, when I cry, "Uncle!" opting for gift cards, has seen multiple trips out exhaustively searching for just the right items to suit Middle Child's gift-giving penchants. Not that she's been monetarily extravagant, but she is particular. She's one of those gifty sorts (I read Gary Chapman's Love Languages, and that chapter was written about this girl child.) who shows love through gifts. Which also means she receives love through gifts.
Have I mentioned that I wimped out and went with the universally easy and likable gift cards? Even Middle Child will find a gift card or two tucked amongst her goodies, but they were oh-so-carefully chosen to reflect her personal preferences. Because an inappropriate or poorly chosen gift is worse than no gift at all for her. (No pressure, though. Really.) Of course, the item she most wants to find under the tree is a plane ticket to Honduras.
Speaking of gifts and Honduras, today our family received a surprise gift. We received a Christmas Gift that speaks directly to our hearts. A gift was given to the Reach Out Honduras Education Fund in our name. This was given by the same friends who have heard me lament, whine, fuss, and try to work out an answer to how on earth a group of children who live at subsistence levels can possibly gain an education. About the kids who dream of going to school that is out of reach financially. About the tias (aunts) who prefer that funds from sponsors go to provide education before other basic needs. About the individual stories of this one who would be a doctor, and that one who wants to learn about Social Studies... It is the gift of hope for these children who we love that we have received for Christmas.

Priorities

Pretzels... only better.

Because I have discovered a distinct inability to do it all, I asked the family to please indicate just what specifically was most important about Christmas tradition/celebration/revelry/expectations so that I could prioritize appropriately.  Little Bit's unequivocal statement was "baking and making treats," followed by a request for chocolate-dipped pretzels.

My mister steered me down the baking, candy, and chip aisles at Super Store to toss bags of white and milk chocolate chips, Starlight mints, and regular M&M's in the cart along with a bag of great big pretzels. My inner Grinch grumbled about how we could have picked up the conveniently prepackaged M&M variety that already had a pretzel inside and a package of peppermint bark with similar results, less cost, and way less mess.
Back at home, the makings out on the counter, I called the girls to the kitchen saying I needed some help. They actually showed up despite the likelihood that chores would be involved with such a summons. Those two were instantly certain of what the particular ingredients laying on the counter signaled.
As "The Nutcracker" played on the living room t.v., we melted the chocolate in small batches. The girls were delighted to take a hammer to ziploc bags of candies to produce the finely crushed consistency needed for adorning our chocolaty treats. The mess-making commenced even as Herr Drosselmeier was tossing the wooden nutcracker offstage so he could pop back up on stage as a real boy complete with tights and poufy hair. The task went quickly, and we had a line-up of pretty munchies before the herd of dancing snowflakes could fill the screen with their whirling tutus.

Holiday Home Tour

It's beginning to feel a little like Christmas around here. The signs of the Season are everywhere in the community, but have been sort of ho-hum around the house. The girls identified shopping, wrapping, and exchanging gifts and baking as priorities. Okay. Will do. I wanted at least one Nativity displayed, and the mister felt the tree was a necessity. So we pulled out the bare basics. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care, a garland draped here, and some snowmen stuck there... but we just sort of lost interest. I have no excuse. Nor any real explanation for the absence of full place settings of Spode on the dining table. Though, I am secretly a little amused that the ziploc baggies where we stow the kids ornaments are still parked by the fireplace while the tree sits bare but for the garland and lights. It's a weird year.

We did send out Christmas Cards. Middle Child and I watched the Nutcracker at midnight over the satellite feed on a school night, and I've been humming the beloved strains ever since. The mister is practicing to play at the church's Christmas Eve and Christmas Eve Eve (12/23) services, and the worship inspired by the set list is already awesome so I can only imagine what it will be like with a whole congregation to share it. We are not without joy for the celebration of Christ's birth. We're just a little lacking in the trappings that so often add to the celebratory feeling of this sweet season.

That said, on with this year's Holiday Home Tour (as seen at Green Girl's and Fannie's where one can find all sorts of inspiration) despite the incomplete nature of our festive preparations we still managed to at least give a nod to Christmas...

The snowmen and a few poinsettias at least brought a bit of festive to the nook where Little Bit likes to read and play on the computer.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and a batch of choice pretties all gathered there....

This Nativity is my favorite. It's made of FIMO clay and the bottoms are rounded so the figures need the rice to stabilize them in their little terra cotta planter. Sort of Southwestern perhaps?

Our tree sits unfinished... We keep suggesting the girls hang their ornaments, but it just has not been done. Maybe tomorrow?

Tidbits: Sticky

• I totally forgot about that roll of "self-adhesive" gift wrap that was lurking in the midst of the pretty papers. That stuff is no less likely to cause a hissy fit this year than last. Waste not, want not... but...
• I am officially in the know on how a week in Honduras during the school year could draw the unwanted attention of truancy court. Fortunately, we have lots of wiggle room thanks to no absences for Little Bit at all and only one for Middle Child of the allowable ten before things get messy. The week I hoped to go to Honduras has a 4th Grade Writing TAKS Test scheduled, and it would be mean to keep our kid out the day of the test all her writing teachers for the past four years have been working toward... We'll have to go a week sooner or later. I wish we could just go now.
• Travel is not a good idea today. My Bronchitis may also be Strep after all. After two days of an antibiotic not ideally suited to treat Strep, the giant q-tip is failing to show positive despite what the doc's little flashlight and my nerve endings are proclaiming. If the sore throat is still blazing away in the morning, we'll have to piggyback a second antibiotic. Yuck.
• Despite the Illness du jour, my great uncle passed away today. I'm wondering if the antibiotics will kick in in time to make the trip for his funeral service. His widow is a great lady who hosted our wedding shower. He was a giant of a man (as is true of all my Mammy's brothers), and he will be missed by many. Oh, and no one in our family aside from the grands and the immediate aunties and uncles knew The Boy was gone last year. Or that he is gone again. That might get sticky.

White Christmas

The snow flurries of Christmas Eve failed to disappear overnight thanks to temperatures well below freezing. According to a Facebook post by an old acquaintance, it was colder in Pleasant Suburb than it was in Canada. Shelley in Poland reported rain in Gdansk while noting the freak snow in her home state. How very odd, and how utterly delightful, to creep from our beds to peer out the window at a field of scarcely broken white. Unbroken until we marched out into it for a Christmas morning snowball fight.
A good hour later, we returned to the house where a breakfast casserole and fresh biscuits awaited. Slipping back into our jammies, we each checked our stockings. Thanks to the snow outside, we have seen the first time ever in this household that stockings went unchecked on Christmas morning. Of course, it's also the first White Christmas in mine and the mister's married life--- and the first one in Pleasant Suburb since the 1920's.

Surprising

This was a year for surprises large and small. The mister expected to find a "cowboy shirt" (as he dubbed the lovely item I'd personally chosen for him) under the tree, but was instead pleased to discover that the cowboy shirt had left the building to be replaced by something more the mister's style. In like fashion, the mister tucked a pair of slim jewelry boxes into a Polish pottery shipping box with a small weight to completely fool me. My guess on picking up the package and removing the wrapping was a berry bowl. Another box revealed a new apron that had been admired in store only the day before and picked up on a super-stealthy shopping expedition by the mister and Middle Child.

The "Gotcha!" moments seemed to have passed once the packages had all been taken from beneath the tree. Don told the girls to, "Unload the dryer," despite the newly unwrapped gifts drawing their attention away from those boring, everyday chores. He slipped into the master bedroom where I stuffed a box and a slim card into my pockets to be covered by my sweater before hurrying back into the living room to grab the camera with the mister coming behind at a more measured pace. He came through the door, calling for Erin, and in his hands was a bright, cobalt blue, bass guitar.

Middle Child turned away from the room trying to damp down her own disappointment. Valiantly fighting the green-eyed monster that reared up as her sister received an extra special Christmas surprise while Kate's own greatest wish went unfulfilled was no easy task. Tapping Katie on the shoulder, I produced the gift card that would fulfill all sorts of tween iTunes wishes. As a smile broke across our formerly disappointed darling's face, I pulled the iPod Touch she really hoped for from the other pocket. The mister and I were rather pleased with ourselves. So were the girlies, for that matter.

We exchange our family gifts on Christmas Eve. This year, as we proceeded to shower one another with Christmas wishes and treats large and small, something completely unheard of began to fall. A White Christmas was coming to Texans big and small. Scrap the visions of sugarplums, and grab a snow ball... but first, may we wish you a Merry Christmas, one and all!

Collectibles

The children, and sometimes the mister and I, choose or are given a special ornament to mark each year. Some reflect interests or hobbies while others are simply expressions of personal taste. This year, staring at the rows of ornaments in the store, it was with an overwhelming awareness that The Boy would not get to choose an ornament. Turning to leave empty-handed, I narrowly avoided crashing into a stand with small sled ornaments featuring names. Selecting one with each of my children's names regardless of where they call home this year, I proceeded to the checkout with a heaviness not typical of this usually fun errand.
This was not the spirit of the tradition. We joyfully select ornaments when given choices, and are typically tickled when someone opts to give us one such as the hand-carved works of art (2007's angel representation is shown at left.) my parents bring from Arkansas each year. While the pride of our tree are absolutely the handmade ornaments of paper, aluminum foil, pipe cleaner, and toilet paper roll created by our children over the years, Mama collects Hallmark ornaments which means the offspring receive them. (Those no longer go on the tree after discovering that cats climb Christmas Trees. Now they are primarily attached to the garlands that are not going up this year. When the lovies are grown, their collected Hallmark ornaments from over the years will go with them to begin their own trees. Ours? Will still be covered in the children's handmade treasures.) The girls and I made a trip to the Hallmark store after they asked about those ornaments. Faced with the clear indication that this was important to them, it was back to standing before the ornament display. To avoid my previous situation, I suggested a family ornament this year. The only one the girls agreed on was "The Corpse Bride". Really. *sigh*

The girls each picked out their own ornament with the caveat that anything dead or the representation thereof would be vetoed. It tickled me no end that Middle Child selected the fra-gee-lay Major Award of "A Christmas Story" fame. Little Bit went with a star of Bethlehem ornament. Loving that the girls had rather nicely represented both our Christian celebration of the birth of Christ and a bit of favored pop culture goodness, I was rather glad to see the new additions on the tree despite the dangers of not one, but two, cats and the pair of rough-housing dogs.

Mercy

With both sets of grandparents having been here and gone last week, life has returned to something resembling normal. The church's Christmas Festival behind us, kids out of school, and many of the regular weekly commitments are on hiatus for a couple of weeks... and yet, we remain busy. Not so much with fun stuff. Today's big misadventures included not only my trip to the men's room, but also an endodontist cleaning out the infection in my jaw (ew.), standing in line at a government office because my auto registration is due, and two trips to Bullseye Big Box for stuff I have forgotten on previous trips.
Despite a sore jaw, it seemed like a grand plan when the mister offered a pasta dinner out instead of my proffered nitrate-laden haute dogs. (The "fancy ketchup" makes them haute.) Since he left his debit card at the restaurant, we dropped the girls back home and made a return trip that is likely as close as we'll get to a date this week. We wandered Bullseye in search of stocking stuffers until the offspring phoned to say one of them had attempted to break up doggie play and been injured for her efforts. We headed home in a hurry to find the child perfectly fine, but possessed of a keen desire to bake cookies. The mister and I crawled into bed to watch "My Fair Lady" while the girlies baked. We watched t.v., and eventually munched on the fruits of our lovies' efforts. All in all, it was just the sort of night we all needed.

Attention Deficit

With all the busy-ness of the last few weeks, it feels reasonable to boycott productivity in these final days before Christmas. Still, there are a few last minute gifts to pick up. With that in mind, there was a quick stop at Mega Mart to pick up a couple of pairs of chenille socks and yummy lotion to pair with them.
Except there had been prodigious coffee consumption prior to the stop. Deciding that concentration on the lotion choices would go better without the extra distraction, I zipped into the restroom. The dash to the stall didn't leave time to look around. Exiting the stall I noticed something odd. Urinals on the wall. Oh.but.no.

Present

I'm something of a gift person. If someone happens to present some token of affection that is just exactly right, they have scored a winning hit. It's not the cost or size of the gift, but the personal nature of such things.
For example, someone gave me a pair of skillets this year. The very skillets I have carried around stores only to put them back. Once, I actually bought the things, but then decided to return them. Imagine the surprise of finding them tucked into a gift basket with my least favorite holiday treat (It won't make me fat if I won't eat it. The family loves the stuff, and it was intended for them as well as my skinny jeans.) and two (published!) books by an author who was once only available in amateur online circles. This is not a gift basket to appeal to the masses. (Harry & David were probably cringing somewhere.) It was, quite simply, lovely. A basket of treats that say, "I get you." Outta the park, people.
That's not to say that I am good at giving gifts. Nope. My mother-in-law who genuinely dislikes cooking and only does it out of necessity and duty? We gave her kitchen related gifts for years. Having discovered only last year the inappropriateness of our past attempts, the girls and I cruised the petites sections of several retailers this year to pick out clothing that would both suit the MIL's frame, and that looked like her taste. Imagine the shock when she opened her gifts this year to discover an outfit she clearly loved instead of the usual assortment of cutesy potholders, fancy trivets, Christmas china, and kitchen tools.
It's not that there is a lack of desire to choose appropriate gifts. Or that I do not listen throughout the year for small hints as to what might tickle others' fancies. It's the pressure of gift-giving at Christmas. The compulsion to have a little something for everyone means there is not necessarrily something personally suited to each one on Santa Mama's list.
That delight found in a thoughtful gift received? It's a thousandfold when one is the giver of such a gift. That is the source of much holiday stress around here. It's the simple hope of giving good gifts--- fallen prey to indecisiveness, a pocketbook with reasonable limitations, recognition of some individuals' feelings of the need for reciprocation, and the lack of time to thoughtfully choose something for each individual.