Part One: Childhood Memories

You know those toys and books and colors and patterns that stick with you for a lifetime?

For me, most of them are from my very young childhood - just guessing, maybe the 3-6 range? - and are associated with some of the best memories for me. Unfortunately I don't remember anyone sharing those memories (unless you count the toys!) but they are wonderful and happy memories nonetheless.

First, a Fisher-Price brand clay set.

Online I see it called a Play-Doh set, though I'm not sure that it was actually Play-Doh - the clay had a very distinct smell that I remember to this day that is NOT the Play-Doh smell ... I think the clay was blue, like a navy-ish blue.

I loved this set so much! I actually remember playing with the clay and seeing little hairs in the clay (maybe from dropping it a lot? hah) and not really caring! My mom had this little wooden table that she had in the kitchen just under the wall-mounted oven where I would sit during the day and play ... that's what I remember playing with at that table most of all.

Vintage Fisher-Price brand purse set.

I only have vague memories of this but I recall very clearing 'applying' the fake lipstick; I had a blast with that. I remember the way the light pink plastic felt. Made me feel all grown up. =)

Fisher-Price Play House (for Weeble People, aka Little People).

I clearly remember playing with this outside on the driveway in our backyard. It was warm, Summertime, but I remember the cool feel of the pavement on my legs. I could sit there for HOURS without wavering attention. I recently found this one at an antique mall excursion and had to snap a photo.

'My Goodnight Book' by Eloise Wilkin.

I have been looking for this book for a very long time. I couldn't remember what it was called or who wrote it, but I knew it was about a little girl and her bedtime routine. I could remember the pictures - the bathtub one in particular for some reason - but had no I idea what it was called. Always ready to reconnect us with long-past memories, a few Google searches helped me find this wonderful little book.












What about you, faithful readers? Any wonderful childhood memories you still carry with you?

"Snow" Day

Today is a snow day. More specifically an 'inclement weather' day. 

It was a little touch-and-go around 6:58am when I checked my work e-mails and didn't see any office closure notifications. Then I checked the school district website: closed! That used to be the only criterion for office closures but somehow the closure of government offices in the city in which our office is located (Dallas) is now included on that list of pre-requisites. 

Dallas' government offices never close for bad weather (which likely accounts, in part, for the perpetual grumpy demeanor of all government employees; yes, this is a stereotype, but it is also a fact). So our office remained open for business - but we were urged to use our 'best judgment' and 'choose safety' as we decided whether or not to brave the accident-riddled roads and slick pavements. I had a choice to make: Go to work through ice and sleet and snow and gusting blades of ice? OR Stay home and warm and wait it out like a smart, evolved, life-preserving being? The latter, please!

Alas, the company came through and closed the office officially. Dallas finally announced (around 8:45am) the closure of its court system for Tuesday. 

Bear in mind 'treacherous' and 'gusting' are relative terms. Wisconsinites would likely scoff and smirk condescendingly at our softness.

can you see the icicles??

For now I'm sipping my third giant mug of coffee this morning and enjoying the slow progression of a day with minimal and pleasant expectations. 

(I started my coffee pot and noticed after a couple of minutes that no coffee was being made; the coffee pot decided it was done making coffee for me after 6 years of loyal service. So I turned to my reliable and non-electric French Press.)

It's not that I'm especially tired or caffeine-starved; mostly I just want to have something warm in my hands - whenever I glance outside to see icicles dangling from my patio and little snow flakes coursing sporadically through the air, it makes for a cozy contrast. The sun decided to peek out for 3 seconds just now and make the snow flakes look more like silvery glitter darting around my backyard. Kevin would say they are fairies. <3

I've decided my to-do list for today is as follows (subject to change/whims):

1. Morning yoga. I never do yoga in the mornings - on a Tuesday, most especially - and so I plan on taking advantage of this very quiet morning to stretch and salute the day and let my brain know that I want it to engage and be happy and centered today. Stress be damned; I am striving so hard to ignore its skill at destroying my happiness and contentedness - one day I will forget what all the stress was about and simply recall having been happy or unhappy. I really don't want to look back on my life and feel I was pointlessly disappointed and needlessly let down by completely unmemorable and unimportant rifts and strifes with people who pass in and out of my life like little flecks of snow on the grass.

2. Watch the last episode of 'The Office' Season 6. Kevin finished it last night after I simply had to go to bed. I knew I'd have to get up earlier to allow for the atrocious weather and road conditions which I have thankfully been saved from after all. At least I have been up since around 7 this morning. I'm so glad I didn't go back to bed, however tempting that was, for sure.

3. A little housecleaning. Dishes, laundry, maybe a touch of ironing (at least that's warm!) and some Swiffer-ing.

4. Cooking! I think a big pot of something yummy like potato soup or chili would suit the day.

5. Hmm ... I guess that's all. *smile*

Happy Christmas, hopefully

This year I have not been much in the Christmas 'spirit'. I was excited to put our tree up for the first time in our new house and I love it. I love the glimmer of the tree, I love the bright lights along the eaves of the house whenever I pull into the driveway after dark. I love hot mochas with Kevin and Christmas cookies and watching the cats play and sleep under the tree. I love watching 'It's a Wonderful Life' and 'A Christmas Story' and in a way trying to recapture (or capture for once) a different, happier feeling that Christmas is supposed to evoke. I'm pretty sure after 26 Christmases that the feeling of the Christmas spirit, of joy and magic in the air isn't so real as I hope - just make believe. I guess it's just made up by adults to make the very youngest of children feel like there is something wonderful about life and something to look forward to - cuz us grown ups are looking for it, too. Reality and the truth about false expectations sets in and we realize Christmas is just another man made holiday like the rest and just an excuse to buy things and eat more sweets than usual.

This Christmas Eve, my cousin Mike passed away. He had cancer and was fighting it hard for a couple of years. He leaves behind two wonderful young children and many, many friends and colleagues.

He is missed and will be missed as time passes and the truth of this reality sets in: he's not there anymore if I want to text him or have him over for dinner. I won't be at his house anymore drinking boxed wine and laughing about something trivial or talking about his next art show.

I feel angry and sad and shocked and uncertain. I am not sure what I feel or how to feel but I am pretty sure I have a conglomeration of feelings and conflictions going on all at once.

A pretty sad thing to dwell on at Christmas. We're supposed, I guess, to think about family and love and Jesus and lots of good food and company. It's next to impossible to do that when life's razor-sharp ability to sorely disappoint our expectations kicks us in the butt when we let our guard down just a little and dare to hope just a little.

Today Kevin and I are having turkey and mashed potatoes and peas for lunch and I'm drinking some Chardonnay. There's something ironically happy about the Christmas music playing in the background and the cats playing with each other. The lights are still on, the music still plays, and people still talk and live with one another. It just helps you appreciate a little more, I suppose, those people that you care about while they are here for you to talk to and see with your own eyes.

Thinking about Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is one of those sadly overlooked holidays.

Take my neighbor, for example. She put her Hallowen decorations up - including a lighted, inflatable Jack-O-Lantern-Scare-Crow-on-a-Harley (fact) proudly standing guard on her front lawn. She is one of 'those' people; perhaps she didn't celebrate Halloween as a kid and is making up for it now, tenfold? When I was growing up, Halloween - erm, Reformation Day - was the one night annually that we, ignoring our usual alert and vigilant crime-detterance, intentionally left our porch lights off, shut ourselves into the living room and watched 'Martin Luther' (1953).

The day after Halloween is when many people traditionally turn to Thanksgiving: planning a menu and figuring out what side of the family you will grin and bear for the day, thinking of cinnamon rolls and coffee while watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade and that lovely feeling as you realize Christmas is just around the corner. No. Not my neighbor. November 1st, I come home from work (and it's dark around 6:15pm since Daylight Savings has kicked in): her house is aglow with flickering, colorful Christmas lights, her cactus draped in a white strand, her roofline twittering in full-color, her porch festooned in strands of snowflakes. She completely skipped Thanksgiving! Who does that?


When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was a good holiday in my house. No sadly-disappointed expectations of gifts (even when we get what we want, it's not quite as electrifying as imagined; I blame Hollywood!), no decorations to tear down and if it didn't snow, you really didn't care. The food is the centerpiece on Thanksgiving. Maybe this is partially to blame for my food addiction, even now. Mom's spread was over the top and more delicious than words can convey. Hers is the best Thanksgiving meal I have ever had. What is sad though is that I haven't had it in 6 years. I really miss it.

I really miss my mom's great cooking. Her turkey and homemade turkey gravy - lots of it (I hate going to people's houses and there is one boatful of gravy for like, 10 people. Doesn't each person get their own boatful of gravy? Btw, I love that boat and gravy are friends here...mmm). Her cornbread dressing with celery and sage and lots of garlic; her wild rice dressing with mushrooms, green bean casserole (after many years, she updated the delicious traditional green bean casserole with fresh beans and carmelized onions), sweet potato casserole, jello salad (not like any jello salad you have ever had so don't judge!), corn casserole and most years canned cranberries (apparently, the comparative qualities of canned vs homemade is a topic of debate). There is something magical though about a slice of gelatinous cranberry 'sauce' on a turkey sandwich with mayo the day after Thanksgiving. Homemade is lovely, but it just doesn't compare.


I miss the warm kitchen on Thanksgiving morning and knowing mom was up early, at least for a few minutes, to put the massive bird in the oven. I miss the din of the parade and then football in the TV room, our simple table and mom's French Countryside dishes (I love how the raised sides held in our huge platefuls of food - some plates are just too flat for Thanksgiving feasting!). My dad is a piemaking pro and he would always make his famous (yes, famous) Lemon Meringue and Coconut Cream Pies. They were divine. I remember in the old house we would put them in the laundry room on top of the drier, one in a vintage Tupperware pie carrier and the other covered in a lime green plastic bowl; it was cooler in there during the winter months and kept the pies but without being too cold in the fridge (you have to respect the meringue!). Dad's homemade crust and flour on the countertop, mom's Frugal Gourmet apron, our very old carving knive buzzing over the brown turkey (all of us vying for the crunchiest pieces of skin!), casserole dishes everywhere. Good times.

However bizarre my little family is, there will never ever be a Thanksgiving that will compare until I can eat my mom's Thanksgiving dinner again.


I'm thankful this year for my good husband, our new home, our health, and the small things.