So far it is a Happy New Year, exactly two hours into it. December 31, 2009, yesterday, was a very interesting day, but due to the late hour, I shall save all that for tomorrow, which is today already.

Remember, it's 2010, with no mistakes in it yet!!! That is such a happy thought.

Blessings All,
KEM

Even thought I live in a city that is a peninsula in state that is a peninsula, I never get to the beach. Unless my sister is in town. So today we went to the beach and it was scrumptious. My jeans made me hot, but the water is icy. I drank two big Cokes . . . unheard of for me. Ate smoked fish sandwich at Ted Peter's, a St. Petersburg landmark. The sunset was VIVID. Saw fun friends. I'm telling you, my sister's vacation is killing me -- not used to all this much fun.

I didn't want to wear my new B, B & B Diamond Dust Dots to the beach where abrasive sand and salt might dull them, well, at least the part that's not DDD. My sister thinks I'm crazy. I also didn't want them stolen out of my house while we were gone all day, so I hid them in what I consider a very brilliant spot. But if I blab it on my blog, then it won't be so secret anymore. But I was very self-satisfied with this stroke of ingenuity.

As far as Dead Sea avoidance, CDW has this to say:

I am so glad you are having a lovely time shopping with your sister. Man, I am jealous. I would love to have a sister here to shop with. But, little missy, if we ever get to shop together...I will show you how very easy it is to pass the Dead Sea people...marching, looking them square in the eyes as you say with determination in your voice and a smile still on your face, "No thank you!" Easy as pie, my dear little baby cakes. :) You are too nice and I am too mean...probably. smiling wickedly.

So, CDW solved that one. I was planning on collapsing with a heart attack the next time I passed the kiosk, to distract the Israelis from their mission of extraction . . . extracting all my money off my person, that is. Actually, I've tried CDW's method, but these little laddies and lassies persist, they follow you down the mall talking a mile a minute. Then what, CDW? But see, CDW has presence. She is tall and gorgeous, she can make them back down. One cobra smile from her and she sends them packing. I am merely Flat Kathy, having been rolled over by steam shovels millions of times and then rerolled. When Dead Sea sees a flat person walk by with averted eyes, they POUNCE! When you are a flat person, you are an automatic target. It's so distressing.

Does anyone know what I am trying to say?

2009 and the world, parting ways,
KEM

Having SO MUCH FUN with my sister. We went to the fancy mall in Tampa. There, of all things, was Bailey, Banks and Biddle . . . GOING OUT OF BUSINESS. Say it ain't so! B, B & B's name alone is reason enough to require it stay in business forever. Come on, what store has a snappier name than that? And they've been around since 1832, internationally famous and all the rest, an American institution, it's just sickening. I talked to the man, he's sick, too, says too many buyouts and the latest owner couldn't swing it. Rats. Well, of course I had to use my Christmas money in there, Laura helped me pick out the tiniest diamond earrings. They looked invisible on the velvet, but in my ear they somehow appeared much larger, tricky, eh? That's the way jewelry works on me, I simply cannot carry off substantial pieces. Mike should be glad because I am forced to buy the teensy stuff, which of course costs less, the average size stuff looks absurd on me, it swallows me. I don't even wear jewelry to speak of, I just like a couple of classic pieces, don't you? At 60% off, what's to stop me? There was a notice that stated some of the jewelry was not actually B, B & B, but was bought from other retailers to add to the B, B & B FINAL SALE. So, when all is said and done I don't know if I have official B, B & B earrings or not, but I BOUGHT them there, so that's good enough for this old girl. Now I can say I own something from B, B & B, even if it's only diamond dust dots, at least that's the general idea, which until tonight was not the case.

The second I emerged from B, B & B, I was accosted by the Dead Sea young woman, there she was, in my face. You know, the gang from Israel that sells marvelous products from their kiosk for $300, But for YOU, my Lovely, because you're so special (think the witch in Hansel and Gretel), a mere $149. I just can't handle it. I walked off with a couple little somethings that depleted the remainder of my Christmas money and then some. Don't tell Mike. I was going to spend my Christmas money on new pots and pans . . . well, that noble plan just crash landed. Mike likes my earrings but he's afraid I will also march ahead with my pots 'n pans plan. But I am not that brazen. I will be much more discreet and buy a pot here and a pan there as the months slide by and sales crop up. After all, does Mike really want me draining pasta with a pot that has a loose handle?? I didn't think so.

Oh, the girl from Israel, she was so charming, so beautiful, so persuasive. I tell you what, Israelis are the best sales people IN ALL THE WORLD, BAR NONE. They also lie through their teeth, I can promise you that. I have to form a trick to avoid the Dead Sea people. Once I complained at the guest desk in the mall that I was afraid to walk the end of the mall where was stationed a certain kiosk. The lady said, You mean the Dead Sea kiosk? Oh baby, that was not so hard to figure out, was it? Hmm, let's see, how can I do this. So far, with the greatest of resolve, I have failed at three malls. Not a total failure, of course, because the products truly are unique and they do deliver. And I admire the verve of the Israelis, stand in awe of it actually, wishing I had a sliver of it. At the same time, the whole situation is completely galling. Avoiding eye contact when I pass by, that seems pathetic. I'm going to have to put some thought into this, because I simply cannot afford to be sucked in one more time. But you know what, I splurged because I've never had a real career but have practiced volunteerism my whole life. I just feel GOOD when I treat myself once in a while. I remember at a music camp in Pennsylvania where I waitressed one summer, my friend and I were boasting to a counselor guy how we worked as counselors at another camp for several years and at the end of the month our "pay" was a night out in Winter Park, which consisted of a dinner out and then Elephant Ears. He laughed himself silly, Oh, so you worked for FREE?? Yep, that's right and I've done it ever since, more or less. If I get swindled into buying Dead Sea stuff because they tell me I'm special (and weak in the sales resistance department, no, not weak, DEAD), then so be it. Maybe I deserve exotic eye serum. That's right, you heard me. Walking off swinging a pale green sack makes me feel REALLY STUPID. But I get over it soon enough. And, incidentally, she tried to sell me more, at a huge discount that she couldn't let her manager see, but I said, No, Senorita. I will give credit that she didn't scowl me to the scorn and we parted on friendly terms. I should sincerely hope so.

'Til next time . . . which I mean by that next blog, not next Dead Sea Disaster, but this is questionable because Laura and I are headed back to the mall soon, so I had better think hard and fast how to weasel by my most hated favorite place so there indeed is not a next time for THAT . . . KEM

Hello. Today I realized I need to cultivate the art of loving life. Somehow, I've forgotten how to chill. And I need to do this without having to WORK too hard at it, as that of course would defeat the purpose. Making things too hard, one of my natural born deficincies.

Went to Target with my sister. She is A-#1 shopper. Can you believe there wasn't a scrap of Christmas wrapping paper left? Dadgum. My sister had darling nice wrapping paper from Target, not like my sick, cheap paper, which even my niece said was pretty ugly. Okay, so next year I get to buy it full price, I'll have to buy small gifts for everyone.

Going to scrummage something up to eat (just going Hollywood with scrummage -- scrounge + rummage).

OH NO, I just remembered I have to give Jazzi a bath. The medicated shampoo has to stay on for ten whole minutes. RATS! This does not make for a cozy midnight. Now I am going to have to have hot chocolate to make up for it. My friend who has known me since birth, her Christmas present to me this year was a bag of goodies to make a cozy evening. She says my favorite word has always been cozy. And this is SO true.

Cozy Is As Cozy Does KEM

YIPPY! My sister and her family are here. My nephew is spending the nights with us. Niece is with DTD, which is a first. Sister and husband are staying in a darling little Best Western nearby that wins awards and is so clean it's pitiful. Mike and I should stay there and let the others have the house, ha!

Remember back in the summer when my nephew and his friend stayed in the mountains with us? How they both shared a hand towel? Not for drying hands, mind you, but for drying off after showering. Never mind the stack of bath towels in the TV room in the balcony, left there by my sister. The boys passed those towels 800 times a day. Sorry Aunt who can't move them to the bathroom, is my guess.

Well, tonight I hear the water running in the tub. That reminded me that I forgot to hang towels in there for my nephew. So I hollered, NEPHEW!, you need a towel! He replies, I have a towel. After checking the undisturbed linen closet, I argued, No, you don't. Yes, I do. I said, WHAT?, the HAND towel (not again!)? He said, No, there's a towel on the floor. Towel on the floor??? That's the BATH MAT!!!

I truly give up. But while I'm giving up, I'm cracking up, too.

For dinner for my sister we had chicken pot pie . . . again. Honestly, all that work paid off. By the time I've served Christmas dinner, sent pie home with guests, had stepson over for a couple of servings, eaten it three nights in a row, frozen some, etc., etc., I count up 25 portions. WOW, I'm impressed with myself, pardon the brag. I was pleased that my niece and nephew ate most of theirs. Niece obviously does not like the dark crust edge. Nephew couldn't clean his plate if his life direly depended upon it, unless it was donuts or anything white bread. Later when we were opening gifts we somehow got on the subject of how niece has never eaten her vegetables. She opposed that and said, I like lots of vegetables and I've always eaten them. Sister and I exchange glances. Niece went on to list asparagus, green beans, carrots. WHOA! Niece, you left your carrots from chicken pie on your plate this very night. I was intrigued how she neatly picked out the mushrooms and carrots and scooted them to the rim of the plate. There they were, two matching carrot rounds, bright orange, side by side like two big eyeballs, and distinctly discarded. But that's okay, she likes her carrots. Aren't they a hoot?

DTD, meanwhile, is eating like there's no 2010 lurking around the corner. Unfortunately, none of the above appreciate my Eagle Eye Annie approach to the remains of their plates. But it's one of those little things that I can't help myself. A friend and I were talking about how to deal with difficult relatives and her conclusion was that people can't help themselves, for the most part. Maybe that's lame, but it's my excuse for this food thing. I can't help myself. Once in the mountains a few years ago, I offered $1 every time someone cleaned their plate. It didn't work out so hot.

Last night I got my annual Audrey Hepburn calendar for $3.20. That made me happy. It's supposed to be $16, but is now half price. PLUS, I had $5 reward at Borders. Audrey keeps me organized for the year. She hangs by the kitchen desk and all obligations get jotted in the chunky squares. Every year I want to try to write so neatly in the boxes and make it purty, and it takes until about January 3 to make it UG-EE.

It just occurred to me that I never put soap in the shower for nephew.

Tonight a guilty party who shall remain nameless allowed Jazzi Jo Mader a few seconds of free reign in the yard while said party was tending to other matters in said yard. A few seconds is all it took, we had sick dog again. What on earth is dog craving in yard? I hope it's not ciggy butts from roofer, because I remember my neighbor saying she will not allow workers to smoke on her property because the dogs can get so violently ill ingesting butts. I'm here to tell you, you do not want to deal with sick dog product while you are trying to roll out pie crust. Thankfully, the messes were less revolting this time . . . but still . . . I was close to hanging guilty party. Just kidding. Sort of. I was forced to deal, rather inelegantly I'm afraid, and move on. Besides, I'm in love with guilty party.

This kid is dropping. BYE. KEM.

Does someone want to tell me why I have a bag of sprouting pearl onions that never got used for Thanksgiving sitting on my washing machine?

Toodles,
KEM

Did you have a merry Christmas? Last night while I was working I played Josh Groban's Christmas CD. That makes everything all better. Some of the arrangements on there are brilliant . . . brilliant. I could listen to these songs millions of times.

I got what you might call an unusual Christmas present from Mike. He gave me a pink and brown glazed antique spittoon. Try to top that one, will you? He's not a big shopper so after leaving the cigar store due to the smokey atmosphere, he went to the nearest antique shop (which was across the street, let's not tax the man), which houses millions of do-dads, and what do you know, but there was the perfect spittoon. He could have searched the world over, or at least one more antique store (let's not tax the man), and not found a more suitable cuspidor for his beloved. It beats all, I tell you. He's been asking for the last couple of years, Do you want a brass or silver spittoon? This pink number is much more feminine than harsh cold metal, eh?

He also is handing me the dough from his singing class. I might go buy Calphalon pots and pans, since the TRY ME Calphalon omlette pan makes such great crepes and is such a cinch to clean. As opposed to my SaladMaster cookware that has to be cleaned with an abrasive powder that is probably killing me but is advertised to last a lifetime unless the powder kills you first. Or unless the handles come loose, then what? After 27 years (TWENTY SEVEN YEARS?????!!!!!!) of excellent service, well, the handles have jiggled loose and when I called about getting them fixed, oh no, Sister, mail the whole set in and we'll give you new handles. Oh no, brother, not so fast. Honestly, to replace the handles you may as well buy a whole new set of SaladMaster. And I don't have the dough for that. So, this should be a no brainer, but I'm attached to my faithful cookware, it's really very good. It's waterless cookware, for crying out loud. It should be obvious that my SaladMaster has served me well but it's time to move on, especially eliminating the aluminum powder that I breathe in daily and is probably killing my sinuses, at the very least, the powder or newsprint. I found out tonight that my dinner guests are allergic to newsprint. Okay, I'm so spent that I have no idea what I'm saying . . . next topic.

Then my stepson outdid himself for me. I'm telling you, I expect the earth to cease orbit tomorrow. He gave me a darling plaque of Audrey Hepburn. Miss Hepburn is looking straight at me. She has a weird hat on with leaves floating all around. She holds her sunglasses across her mouth. The quote is: My look is attainable. Women can look like Audrey Hepburn by buying the large sunglasses and the little sleeveless dresses." What are we waiting for?

He also got me the Vidalia Chop Wizard . . . As Seen on TV. I've always wondered about such miracle contraptions, now I shall know. His manager has Chop Wizard and highly advised giving it as a gift. It brags on the box: Fastest/safest/easiest way to chop or dice fruits, vegetables & more! (I love the "& more" part). With one swift motion. This is good because all of my knives are about as sharp as a pancake. Whenever I'm in JoAnn's and see SIGN UP TO GET YOUR KNIVES SHARPENED, KNIFE SHARPENER COMING TO TOWN, well, that's exactly what I need to sign up for. But it never materializes for me. Anyway, with Chop Wizard, all your chopped goods drop into a box below, gorgeously diced by Hi quality stainless steel blades that never need sharpening. Not only that, it comes with a BONUS!! -- Free dicer blade (as opposed to the mere chop blade). It minimizes hand contact with onions, it's easy to clean and, moreover, has non-skid feet. AND. And it has a lid cleaning tool. Why how did the world ever get on before this little item broke onto the scene? Onions, carrots, peppers, apples, mushrooms, zucchini, eggs and MORE are no match for Chop Wizard. Honestly, he should have given me this yesterday, when what was I chopping by hand for chicken pot pie but onions, carrots, peppers, mushrooms, zucchini, potatoes, turnips, celery and MORE. For crying out loud, what are we waiting for?

Then he threw in a box of those chocolates with liquid cherry centers. WOW! BRAVO! Well done, Stepson.

DTD commented that one of the gifts I gave her was in a bag that she's seen, oh, maybe the past dozen Christmases. Well, good for me.

I have three lovely friends for dinner. When Mike was leaving to pick up one guest, the other couple was arriving. FORTY-FIVE MINUTES EARLY. Well, at least 15 minutes early because I gave a broad window for arrival time. But it was definitely 15 minutes early. I was still in my work clothes trying to throw a salad together (Chop Wizard anyone?) when Mike reappeared and said, Umm, they're here already. I'm like, You're kidding! STALL THEM! I ran upstairs and threw on my, thankfully, predetermined outfit while Mike gave them a tour of the yard. Whew, that was a close call.

Well, the one friend brought a fabulous assortment of pre-dinner treats (since I can't spell you-know-what). She is a total spirit-lifter, so sweet. We enjoyed our dinner with Mr. Groban in the background. Then we exchanged gifts. Everyone was pooped and we called it a night.

Okay, that's all she could spit out. One last tidbit, if you don't have Josh Groban's Christmas CD, you simply MUST have it. Get it TODAY.

Christmas Cheer and Love,
KEM

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! May love abound everywhere!

Love,
KEM

Man, oh, man. Would you like to know how many newspapers an ordinary wicker newspaper basket can handle? An amount beyond reason, that's what. I sorted out my particular accumulation and by golly if I didn't say, HANG IT ALL. Well, I did save the Saturday HOME sections and the Wednesday TASTE sections. I leafed through the sections with the advice columns, but then they hit the can. Honestly, after Christmas I am going to count how many TASTE sections I have, because no one, including this blogger, is going to believe it. You would think I did nothing my whole life but save and stack TASTE sections. It's repulsive. Mike said I was a slave to the newspaper. I've thought of that myself.

The newspaper puts out a fancy slick magazine for the rich and famous, it comes out every two months and it comes in the paper. Sometimes I look through it. You find all kinds of interesting things. Like one time a young woman from Mike's church was on the cover and modeling for a whole spread. Another time there was my former piano student. This article showcased her parents' fabulous house. Very interesting. And then tonight when I was saying to myself, Give it up!, I gingerly flipped through the magazine anyway and there was a big color feature on another former piano student's mother. Her business designs and makes the costumes for So You Think You Can Dance? She was instrumental in getting Dancing With the Stars to the USA and worked on those costumes, too. Now, isn't that interesting? I'm going to have to give up interesting things.

I'm playing lots of tricks to get the house ready for Christmas dinner. Everything cluttery looking is going in trash bags. Then the trash bags are going in the guest room closet. I kinda hope someone mistakes them for trash (well, that would hardly be a mistake) and just heaves them in the can. Now listen here, Mike, don't you dare take me up on that, I don't really mean it. But I have a new motto, A Project A Day Keeps Me From Jumping Into The Bay. That's right, I am going to full out tackle these dumb bags. I moved pretty fast with the newspapers, I can do this. Every day in 2010, something significant is going to happen. Because I don't have time for all this mess. It takes all my spare time to dust, which I've had no spare time of late. Yep, I'm sick 'n tired of the status quo, I'm ready to shake it all up.

Went to the little health food store to buy my Christmas food. When I was checking out the girl said, How are you? I said, Well, I WAS in the Christmas spirit until last night when my dog got so sick. I felt so sorry for sweet little Jazzi, but it was a big infringement on my time, if you know what I mean, sorry to admit it. But you have to take it as it comes. She said, Well, just think, in a couple of days it will all be over. I said, That's one way to look at it. But that isn't really how I feel at all. If I were more organized to begin with, I wouldn't be bagging up clutter at the eleventh hour, now would I? I love Christmas. I love Christmas dinner with friends. And singing afterward. I like that we celebrate Jesus' birth. I just have to get better at it.

Okay, I can't think again, this is becoming a habit, the inability to focus.

KEM the Bagger

When I said yesterday that things would get interesting, I didn't have in mind that my dog would be wretchedly sick tonight, from both ends, all over the house. :)))))))))) Oh boy, well, I know people have so many worse problems than that, so I won't say a lot, just hope and pray Jazzi is okay through the night. Honestly, you'd think she ate the whole back yard and then some. We've been through this before, but not lately. I've had the middle of the night ER visits with her, truly hoping we avoid that, it costs as much as your whole Christmas.

So, I had a little tidbit to toss your way, but all I can think of now is a tuna sandwich. I've been drooling for one for hours, although now, in light of recent events, it doesn't sound quite as appetizing. I absolutely have no idea what I was going to tell you, which is probably to your advantage. Well, one little thing, I hate and despise my Christmas wrapping paper. It's the kind that cracks when you fold it around the corners of boxes, and tears easily. So it has a dark green background with dark pink ornaments on it. Why on earth did I get it? It's from the drugstore, but it's positively hideous and I don't know how I could have picked it out. So all the corners look whitish instead of dark green. Really crummy. Of course, I went ahead and used it 'cause it's all I have. Not to mention no one in my family is going to pick up a wrapped box and say, Hmm, what's with the cheesy paper? Of course, it's so ugly DTD might have to comment about who and why it was picked out. But white corners, never in a million years. Well, I won't make that mistake again, even if this paper WAS made in the USA. That's it, quality wrapping paper from now on. Where do you buy quality wrapping paper? I've had cheap stuff the last few years, but at least it had a cute print on it. This paper has NOTHING going for it. Oh man, now I want to rewrap, but baby, that ain't a gonna happen.

Oh yeah, one more thing. I got a gift to mail to a friend and I was so excited about it that I wrapped it in bubble wrap and put it in the same box my friend mailed me a gift, all packed just so. Then I wrapped the box in brown paper and addressed it. It's sitting on the counter (where else?). So, a couple of days have gone by and it just hit me, I never wrapped the gift, you know what I mean? I should have put this darling breakable thing in a small gift box and wrapped it in lovely Christmas paper and THEN put it in the mailing box and THEN wrapped in brown paper. Gads, I had to write on the brown paper, Umm, I think I forgot to wrap your present. Of course, what if I had used the nasty paper? In that case I'm better off having forgotten to wrap. Well, it's too late now, I ain't about to tear that package apart and start over.

I am too tired to proof read this thing. Let's all just go to bed and hope for great things tomorrow.

Oh, you know what, my Christmas tree is decorated crummy, to go along with the crummy wrapped presents and my crummy decorating in general. Really, if I ever get a little dream cottage, I'm hiring a professional, that's all there is to it. I know just who, a man at Mike's church. Tonight at Singing class he gave us white bark his wife had made. I have ZERO talent for decorating. And you know what, I'm good with that. It doesn't bother me at all. On the contrary, it gives me blogging material.

I love Jesus.

KEM

Hi, are you staying on track to get stuff done? I'm not . . . not exactly. Tomorrow had better count.

Pulled out the manger scene. Years ago a friend gave it to me with the idea that I could add a piece each year. So far, it's still the original, then barn, the babe Jesus in the manger and Joseph and Mary. I could really use a cow.

All right, I can guarantee you that the next few days are going to be interesting for all of us.

BYE,
KEM

Rice flour simply must fall by the wayside. You know, my bag of rice flour made dreadful cherry cupcakes, which I've since been choking down in dump cake form. You know, I am not one to throw out perfectly good organic ingredients, so what if they turned into something perfectly horrid. I dump it down my throat, not the garbage disposal.

So, when I bought rice flour, I also bought Gluten Free! Waffle & Pancake Mix (makes TWO Batches!, lucky me). Free of not only gluten, but also wheat, soy, corn, potato, peanuts, tree nuts, dairy, casein. So what on God's green earth does this leave? RICE. Oh yes, here we come again with rice flour and also tapioca flour, arrowroot flour, rice milk powder, etc. Really, talk about overkill, blindly buying TWO rice flour products, I should have read the label before I got home and decided to make pancakes for lunch today. Well, I got the batter ready and then Mike told me his son was coming over to smooth out the mulch dumped in the driveway (dump is such a great word) and of course he would like pancakes. So, of course I didn't tell Mike we had a brand new rice pancake mix. He took one bite and made a baby temper face, WHAT IS THIS? COME AND TASTE IT, he demanded. So, I tasted it, and truly, it was a far cry from my usual WHEAT pancakes. But he ate them and then his son ate them, after I made him taste them first to check his tolerance. Then they had seconds, meaning they were either starving or the things grew on them. Well, by all that time, I used up the batter and had to make more batter. But trust me, I don't have brains for nothing. I made my pancakes from my old faithful wheat mix. Batch Numbero Dos of rice pancakes is just going to have to wait for a better day. Mike thought that was a dirty trick, but I didn't want to hear about it, since I ate last.

The conclusion of this is that I have a new and great sympathy for people who have to X wheat from their diet -- which is a lot of people these days, judging by the faux products on the shelves, all these stand-ins for normal, regular, good old wheat, the staple of the earth, unless you live in China, I suppose. Maybe Chinese can't stand wheat the way I am beginning to underappreciate rice.

The chorus Mike sings in gave a Christmas concert tonight. It was VERY good, they sang some really doctored up versions -- Jingle Bells and Angels We Have Heard on High, to name two. We ate out afterwards and they sang 'em again -- right in the restaurant. It was fun. We weren't arrested because all the other customers had cleared out. I wouldn't be arrested anyway, because I am not IN the group by virtue of the fact that I cannot sing. I was WITH the group, so I hope I wouldn't be arrested by mere association.

The dinner was very good, ravioli. I needed it, something with some oomph, because up to that point today I had consumed only wheat pancakes, Mississippi Mud (after the choir concert they serve refreshments) and lots of garlic bread waiting for the raviolis (sp). They did not give us salad, which I thought was a crying shame. But they gave us free Santy drinks. Well, I don't drink. Santy ate up the candy cane decoration hooked on the outside of the glass, because I hooked my candy cane on the inside of the glass, in the drink, which I assumed you were supposed to do. It was exceptionally tasty and packed a powerful punch. I think I drank an eighth of a teaspoon.

Here I am blogging instead of vacuuming the guest bedroom and moving a chest of drawers in there and cleaning those drawers so I can start vacuuming music and dumping it in the drawers. I really am going to have to curtail my ambitious cleaning plans for Christmas and just close some doors. We are having three guests for Christmas dinner. At least last night I employed some resolve and started throwing out my old newspapers, with nary a glance . . . well, maybe a teensy glance. But nothing like ordinarily I would do. The sad part, there are millions more papers, it's shocking. But I took that first step and now I must persevere. I hope this leads to shocking changes of lifestyle for me in 2010.

Okay, I must go. I washed my dusty old ironing board cover and I also washed the felt pad underneath, which I knew I shouldn't have done, it didn't seem like a smart idea at the time, as if that ever stopped me. It is now looking like Swiss cheese.

All this food talk is making me hungry. Maybe a dish of apple sauce . . .

KEM

Went Christmas caroling to the church shut-ins. It was nice to see them brighten up, tear up, sing along, watch the children in the group or look like they were far away in another time and place.

Last night when I got my "makeover," which this promotion had started weeks ago, well, last night was the very last night they were doing it, I found out. And I was the very last person they did it to :))) Whatever they sold me, so far so good, my skin really looks better. But a lady in the caroling group today, she said how someone she knows, way up in age, has perfect skin and she uses Pond's or Vaseline. Then another lady said how her grandmother had not one wrinkle at age 95, porcelain skin, and she's used Pond's her whole life. Should we all run out and buy Pond's?

Once I read a story in the St. Petersburg Times. It was about a woman who lived out in the country, and the journalist obviously could not help himself, he said her skin was flawless, and the woman was not young. She was old. Guess what her trick was? She washed her face in fresh urine every morning. I think I'll stick to Pond's. Whatever sterile urine could do for my complexion, my complexion will simply have to do without. I shouldn't have repeated this story, but it's just so mind-boggling . . . Please forgive me for this post into unchartered territory. I needed something sensational to up the readership. Just kidding.

I was tempted to go to the mall again tonight and use some more coupons. But I've drawn the line in the sand. I AM DONE. I will just not be able to save $10 our of $50 at Penney's. I will have to pass on 40% off DVD sets at Borders. The good news is that DTD called me this morning: Did you buy me a leather jacket yesterday? No, DTD, I did not, they were OUT. DTD: Good, because there's one I really like at TJMaxx. Great, BUY IT. DTD: It's $70. How much was it before? $200. BUY IT. Then I asked if she wanted to drop it off so I could wrap it and place it under the tree. But no, she wanted to wear it to hostess tonight, as it's cooler here and the hostess station is outside. I came out of this one smelling like a rose. Wasn't looking forward to fighting the crowds in search of leather jackets that don't exist this year, hardly, only to buy one DTD would have to fight the crowds to return.

Mike and I are pooped, we carolled around for 4 hours. But to me it was very important. Once a family (I taught their two sons piano lessons) hosted a Christmas recital for my students in their beautiful home. They make the social circuit but the mother very seriously told me that this piano party was the most meaningful thing they did. That was in the day when I had a lot of students, like 20-some of them. After the performances we all sang Christmas carols. Mike and I were dating so he led the singing and he kept messing up The 12 Days of Christmas, as in leaving out a whole line on each round. He said I was doing it wrong and I was like, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?, and we publicly disagreed after each verse (12 of them, you know). But it was kinda funny, botching it up each time, everyone was laughing. Honestly, do you ever look back at stuff and wonder how you pulled it off, or pulled through? I haven't a clue in the world how I used to teach 29 piano pupils every week. What are some of the things you've done at which you look back in awe. Come on, let's brag a little.

Have a nice Sunday everyone!

KEM

Mall fun tonight. Left my sore throat at home and just went for it. The goal was to finish Christmas shopping tonight . . . that was until I found out that DTD wants a leather jacket for Christmas. Now how will I pick out one that she might be caught dead in?

I had coupons and stuff, but the highlight turned out to be a makeover at Clinique. The whole reason I did the makeover was to get the two little tiny free gifts so I can put them in DTD'S stocking (here's to hoping I still have stockings). Well, the girl who did my face was only about as cute a personality as they come. She spent 1.5 hours on me (gads, didn't know my face needed THAT much work). Anyway, she chattered away non-stop and I was in awe that anyone could have such an abundance of vivaciousness. I especially liked her because she is best friends with her mother and would absolutely have a heart attack if anything ever happened to her mother. She is in constant contact with her mother during the day. In fact, her mother and aunt stopped by but somehow I missed them. How did I do that? Then the other Clinique girl was great, too. I love my young hairdresser, too. Both of them. Yes, young women in their 20's, my new favorite age. Not to mention Christa, the oboist in our church. And others.

When all was said and done (and I bought THINGS, because the girls were not meeting their sales quotas, they would much rather gab and paint faces), well, not quite said and done, because I showed them my pile of gift cards. It's a good thing, too, because one was a SECRET CARD from VS, and I totally didn't know I had it. The one girl used to work at VS and said, GO USE THAT CARD, it might be worth $500. In fact, once one of her customers had the $500 card. Can you imagine? I imagined. But, of course, mine turned out to be worth the minimum $10. But I put it to good use and DTD now has more stocking stuffers. So does KEM. KEM also has new black jeans, courtesy of Macy's gift card. KEM also has new Calphalon panini press, the pan is ridged, which will be great for burgers, chops and bacon, I will fully expect ridge marks on my meat. Okay, so Mike isn't going to shop for me, I shop for him for me.

Well, I have to tell you, those Clinique girls just totally invigorated me. I told them, If I have the $500 VS card, I am coming back here to take you out to dinner. It's so JOYFUL to meet such lovely, nice people every once in a while, out of the blue. A God gift. Oh, and I decided I reasonably liked my nose tonight, which in and of itself is unbelievable, I must be delusional or something. I tried on so many jeans, looking for the one and only pair with even leg seams, which I just barely found one . . . sort of. By that time I would have taken anything, Macy's was open until midnight. Well, in the dressing room was a three was adjustable mirror, so I adjusted it until I found the angle I liked on my nose . . . sort of. CDW will appreciate this little tidbit, we have this little thing about our honkin' noses.

So, now I'm home and having headache. It must be the real Christmas tree. We are also having misty blowing weather.

Oh, one more thing and I'm outta here. Today I was walking downtown and heard a young woman on her cell phone, she had the cutest voice. She said, incredulously, One minute it's raining, one minute it's sunny, the next minute it's freezing . . . I got a big bang out of that and laughed out loud. It's true, today was WEIRD weather, while at the mall tonight the wind was whipping all over the place and very light mists were misting about.

Oh, one last thing . . . I hope we go Christmas caroling to the church shut-in's tomorrow. Except every year, they all pass away not long after we sing to them. Shouldn't that give us a complex? I'm not being funny, because it is not funny, not at all, it's awful, but just the same, it is the truth. It's the oddest thing.

Oh, and one final last thing. Mike brought home his leftover dinner from an Italian restaurant and it was so delicious that now I am going to duplicate it for my Christmas dinner. I think I can do that. It will be EASY. I'm very excited. When I found out the spiral ham from the health food store, my Christmas standby, was unavailable, I kind of dipped. But now I'm surfing on top of the wave . . . there she goes! Mike read in Men Are From Mars that women ride the waves. He just so happened to read that while we vacationed in Hawaii, so the location was positive reinforcement of that very accurate concept, and to this day, 6 years later, when I am down at the bottom of the wave, he just looks the other way until I resurface higher up. MEN.

Christmasy KEM

Oh dear, a bad sore throat is settling in. NOW WHAT?

Hi everyone, Merry Christmas.

Tonight we took DTD out for her birthday dinner. Japanese. Her favorite food. And fish. She loves and adores fish. From whence did this come? But I should have known, this from the kid who didn't like French fries and hot dogs and Disney World. Like I've said, she isn't American. But whose complaining? Long live the girl who avoids French fries and hot dogs and can take or leave Disney. When other parents were running their kids to The World every other weekend to be sure and recover the price of their yearly pass, we just sat back and beheld the insanity (no offense to Disney lovers everywhere). I'm telling you, the older I get, the more confident I become with my preferences. It's pretty comfortable.

I cannot use chopsticks, and even if I possessed that talent, I prefer a cheap stainless steel fork. So I asked for one. The waitress offered to bring me "cheater" chopsticks, the kind with a rubber band holding the two sticks together at the top. Mike, DTD and stepson thought I should spring for those. Well, I sprang and they sprung -- the cheaters sprung, that is. Really, when I took the paper wrapper off, the thing flew out of my hands, as a yelp leapt out of my throat. Somehow I had managed to let them pinch me. It was an odd scene and of course DTD was disgusted beyond measure. But boy, it was a bad surprise and it hurt. Those babies sailed across the table. It's unbelievable, but nothing surprises my family anymore. I try to be dignified for DTD, but it's just hopeless.

Boy, I'm beater than beat, how 'bout you? Someone said, 10 days 'til Christmas. But really it's more like 9. Hmm, I'd better face that hard fact squarely in the face . . . tomorrow. Gone With the Wind was on tv last night, followed by a documentary of the making of the movie. I didn't watch the whole movie, but Scarlett certainly liked the idea of "tomorrow." But there are only so many tomorrows, so I'd better start making good use of them.

Okay, I can't form any thoughts of sense . . . so off I go.

KEM

Tip for the day: Don't eat a chocolate pudding cup before attempting a nap.

I'm sorry, this is a really lousy blog, but my mind won't cough anything up, to be perfectly inelegant. DTD said something worth reporting yesterday, but it's gone 'cause I didn't write it down. I didn't write it down 'cause there was no way I would forget it, it was so dang clever. Also, the window cleaning lady and I talked about something I wanted to get down on paper, I remembered as I was drifting off to sleep last night . . . by morning it's gone. Better luck tomorrow.

KEM

The windows are clean! Our screens were biting the dust, so off they came. Truly, a house looks prettier without shabby window screens mucking up the scenery. The idea now is to get a couple of new screens fitted for a couple of windows we might want to open in the name of fresh air, but for windows on the side of the house, so as not to mar my new glassy look :)) I completely knocked myself out cleaning, I will say that. You would be proud of me. You would wish I had been cleaning at your house :))

So, the strangest thing happened. I can't make up these things, so here goes. Three people came to clean the windows and the team leader did the inside work. I liked her right away because she had all her clean blue rags hanging from her waist, as in tucked into her shorts all around. It looked like a petal skirt, specifically, like the costume I had to wear in kindergarten when I was a flower in the school pagent, my skirt was the stem and green leaves, I was humiliated to the end, as I've written about previously. This lady's skirt was blue, but definitely petals. I said, I like your skirt (funny how your perspective changes after 44 years). Come to think of it, I should have snapped the Can Can skirt off the tree and we could have had a really fun catwalk. Catwalk, is that the word I want?

Well, we are talking for a lot of the time we are working, my downstairs being so open and all. She was easy to talk to and I felt comfortable with her. I asked, Is it hard to go home and clean your own house, after you clean for other people all day? She said, No, I go home every day and clean something, so I don't get far behind and so I can have my weekends free from housework. Not being able to quell my curiosity, I ask, Give me an example of what you might clean. She said, Well, I might move the furniture out and clean behind it. Good gravy, this woman is a dyed -in-the-wool WORKER. I felt limper (word?) than my dust rag. This vitally impressed me, here is a woman of character and resolve, that dirty word.

I learned that she had moved to FL to be near her daughter, the daughter begging her mother to come. I said, You look like you would still have kids at home, but she said, No, my daughter is 27. Anymore, I don't like to ask people if they have children or if they have more children and other generally nosy questions. But I did, because, after all, I am KEM, I said, Do you have other children?

She said, I had a son, but he died in a car accident at age 14 (see what I mean about asking?). Of course, I just felt terrible for her and terrible that I brought up such a painful reminder. My eyes welled up, but she said she was okay with it. She said it happened 14 years ago (are you keeping track of the 14's?). The first three years after it happened she never wanted to leave her house, she was so utterly devastated. However, she is better after 14 years. She said it happened on December 14th.

Then I felt REALLY STRANGE, kind of frozen to the spot. I said, Oh my goodness, today is December 14th. She looked up at me, confusion crossing her face. No, she countered, today is December 11th. But I kindly said, Yesterday was my daughter's birthday and her birthday is December 13th. I said that without a whole lot of confidence at this point (was DTD really born December 13th and was her birthday really yesterday?). The lady said, Oh my, I've been writing December 11th on all my receipts today. I said, I'll check the calendar, but I'm sure December 11th was Friday.

When I confirmed that today was, indeed, December 14th (glad to know I have somewhat of a grip), she just couldn't get over it. I suggested, Perhaps your mind was blocking this tragic, unfortunate day. She agreed maybe that was it. Her son was in a van, the driver just having gotten his license. It was on a country road in Illinois and the driver swerved to miss another car. The van flipped and her boy was thrown from a window and killed. No other windows were broken and no one else was really hurt (5 kids altogether in that van). Wow. Every parent's worst nightmare, she woke up to it. And it was true.

She went on to say that her daughter asks her mom, Do you ever wonder what he looks like now or what he would be doing? She said, All the time, he would probably be a Marine. It empties your lungs.

When she handed me the bill she was surprised because she had dated it beforehand for the 14th . . . somehow. I asked if I could give her a hug and she said, Sure, hugs are good. I just didn't know what else to do or say, so I gave her a nice tip. Just to cheer her. I'm telling you, I won't ever forget this. So many people have a child predecease them (I told her about my brother killed in a car accident, too, so at least I could relate to her somewhat).

And it's so unforgettable that her son died at 14, 14 years ago today, December 14th, 2009. And she cleaned my windows for me that day, today. You simply can't make these things up. I know this was a God gift -- a sobering one. Not sure why it was dropped in my lap, but I'm grateful. Next time I get the windows cleaned, I will request they send this lady again.

Loving my little girl is 19, thank you, God.

KEM

This morning in church Mike led his choir and instrumentalists in a lovely Christmas cantata. It had a very Christmasy Eve flavor, all the old familiar carols. Just exactly perfect. Everyone who participated did such a great job. Let's do it again!

I forgot to mention that I ate a bunch of dates last night, too. I rounded a corner at the grocery store, and there was a whole display in the aisle, where you couldn't help but trip over them, you know, those flimsy cardboard numbers, where you have about a 1,000% chance of knocking the whole thing down with your cart? Yeah, well, I LOVE dates. They came all the way from Pakistan.

Tonight I made my fabulous cherry cupcakes for DTD'S birthday. Except they didn't turn out so fabulous. Why? Because I had to use rice flour instead of plain good old-fashioned wheat flour. Because DTD doesn't eat wheat, gluten or dairy. Let me tell you something, there is a reason why people use plain good old-fashioned wheat flour . . . it works. I got nervous when I opened the bag of rice flour, it was so white. It had a weird texture, I can't describe it but it was not nice like wheat flour. Then when the batter was ready, it turned all grainy and stupid. When I took the things out of the oven, they crumbled to death as I tried to lift them from muffin tins. I wound up salvaging two for DTD (they were in the tin foil muffin liners, all I had for the rest was paper liners, which were as good as nothing). The rest got dumped in a big pan and now I have Cherry Crumb Cake. Dang. I frosted them the best I could. Talk about a flop. They taste okay, but you can taste the rice. Pooh.

Am in the middle of vacuuming all the blinds in the house, minus the living room, which I did last week in my one day burst of energy. Window cleaners coming at noon and somehow between now and then I need to be two steps ahead. I have to clear a path to each window. That would be an outstanding idea, wouldn't it? Boy, I dread it. I also need to take my new rags, get 'em damp and wipe each slat, which will take forever, but at least the preliminary vacuuming, which is time consuming, will be done. I have learned that vacuuming first is essential, it I want to avoid making mud pies. Honestly, the older I get, the longer I let things S-L-I-D-E. Onward, HO!, if I ever end this blog, that is.

THE END,
KEM

There is a problem with the tree skirt doubling as a woman skirt. You would have to have a waist the size of Scarlett O'Hara's. Or maybe less. For Corn's sake, it won't even close around my Christmas tree and I hiked it all the way up to the trunk because it wouldn't even begin to close lower around the stand. Well, it looks good, even though it's a shame I can't button it up and make it look REALLY good, but such is the story of my life with decor. I asked Mike again today, Do I return the Can Can or do we scrunch a white blanket? He said, What is this, deja vu? I am sick and I cannot spell, so don't worry about it. Too rich food lately. Yesterday at Nordstrom's I managed a bowl (not a cup) of the lobster chowder, or what have you, plus a spinach and beet salad with goat cheese and sugared pecans and fancy dressing. At the choir party I ate a caramel sandwich. How does one do that, you may ask? By spreading caramel designed for dipping apple slices on white bread. This had to be done because the apples, I ate two of them, tasted like chemicals. What on earth do they drench them in so they won't turn brown? It's not lemon juice. I think this tray came made up from the grocery. Then I had pretzels and M & M's and peanuts covered in white chocolate. Plus Doritos and Coke. I went ape, I'm telling you. But it was all to avoid the Sam's Club beef brisket, which was the main attraction. Mrs. Carrot Souflett's son bit into his beef brisket sandwich and promptly announced that he just found a huge wad of fat in his mouth. He took it out, which I didn't see, but I know he did, because the next thing, he's holding it up in his palm saying, It looks like a cyst. Well, it did look like a big bubble. Okay, so why am I grossing everyone out, especially me? This boy, by the way, is adorable, and a civil engineer. He's BRAINY. And blunt.

So tonight I went to the "health" food store and came home with Wild Mushroom Penne Pasta, which just so happens to be loaded with heavy cream and sour cream and cheese. My midnight snack was a ham sandwich and glass of milk, and that, folks, is when the nausea crept up. Good thing I didn't make DTD'S birthday cupcakes tonight. I would have been licking the bowl and that, no doubt, would have been the last straw.

Have I told you that my school lunches used to make me sick? Not all of them. I adored the Friday tuna sandwiches. But Keswick's Shepherd's Pie?? Whoa, my friend Cindy had to take that off my plate (and numerous other kids', too). Take it off in a hurry. It was abominable. So, for years after, whenever I felt nauseous, my mind would beeline back to that lunchroom where the dish for the day came up Shepherd's Pie. Then I would feel sicker. Somehow, I have outgrown this dreadful connection . . . I hope. Anyway, I could pile up tuna sandwiches with the best of them.

You know what, Mike's church Christmas music service is in the morning. I'd better try to sleep off this food, and I've learned my lesson. Rich food is not my favorite anymore. Not to mention it won't help the Can Can skirt fasten any easier.

Guess what? It's DTD'S birthday. And another special person's, too. So, isn't that lovely?

Hark! One last year to call DTD, DTD. Then I shall have to invent something new and appropriate.

The night before DTD was born, I insisted we drive 30 minutes to Greensboro so I could eat pancakes from IHOP. I was in some sort of labor, but I've never figured it out. Save that story for another day.

Chow, chow,
KEM

Hi Everyone. CEF (Child Evangelism Fellowship) sent out a newsletter that was so sweet, that I want to pass it on to you.

CEF Suncoast Chapter Praises and Prayers
Greetings brothers and sisters! How often in our busy lives to we realize that God’s grace is sufficient for us. It is our fleshly desires that tells us we need to have this, or we have to do that. When the truth is, just knowing that Jesus Christ paid the penalty for our sins, and through our faith in His work, we have a home in Heaven is enough. Through God’s grace this ministry is able to share what Christ did for us with others. Everything else is just a blessing from the Lord. As adults it may be a little easier for us to recognize that, but when a child does….it is just AMAZING!

This is a prayer request a child turned in this week at Good News Club: “Dear God, I pray before you because I love you and what I dream to do is thank you Lord for everything and all I have I am thankful to you.”
Jayde.

Exodus 15:2 “The Lord is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation; He is my God…..”

WOW, now Jayde's prayer, let's use the word AWESOME! How was that for encouraging???

On a far lesser note (KEM here), even a shabby note, compared to the above, I had lunch with a dear childhood friend, my "little sister," Barb. (That is not the lesser or shabby part, time with Barb is a treasure.) But we got on the subject of No Hands can openers. I was telling her my sob story and she said, I have one of those and I love it. This gives me hope. I, too, shall find a way to love my Hands Off can opener. Barb cleans her blade by turning it (hers has a knob to do that, mine doesn't) and rubbing a paper towel on it. Her opener was a more deluxe version, I think, but I hope mine will do that somehow and I don't have to dissect it every time. See, I told you this was lesser.

And lesser still, I was on the verge of returning the Can Can Christmas Tree Skirt and using a fluffy white throw instead when Mike announced, The Can Can adds pizazz, keep it. He acknowledged that it might not go with my color scheme, but that will be nothing new around here. What color scheme? I've never had a color scheme a day in my life. Besides the Can Can can serve double duty when I need to dress up for a costume party (which is never).

And least of all, remember how I spilled salad dressing a while back on my brand new red J. Jill sweater, quicker than quick? Well, I still wear the sweater, no washy yet. And today I wanted to reexamine the spot, but I cannot locate it, even though I KNOW it is on the ribbed left sleeve cuff, to the right of the seam. Where did it go? Honestly, it was the size of a nickel. Am I losing it? Tonight at the choir Christmas party I asked a man, Remember your birthday cake after choir practice? He said, No. I said, Well, you had a cake and now another choir member and I are arguing over how old you are. So, how old are you? He said, How old did you think I was? I said, Well, you don't look it, but you said you were 80. He said, I'm 75 and I don't remember a thing you're saying. I said, Maybe you were kidding me, but I really thought you said you were 85. In fact, I KNOW it. Well, the cake happened in January. He doesn't remember any of it, and apparently I don't either. The other choir person said he was 75, so I lose that one.

Then, still at the choir party tonight, I said to the lady next to me, I really liked your carrot souflette (sp) that you brought to a church dinner one time. She looked at me like my last marble had rolled out of my head and across the floor. I don't make carrot souflette, she said matter-of-factly. I said, You most certainly do, and it's delicious. To which she replied, I've never made carrot souflette in my life, I always bring broccoli casserole to the dinners. I said, No, you brought carrot souflette (would really help if I could spell the main word of this story) and you told me, when I inquired, that you used butter, not margarine, and that the Picadilly Cafeteria serves this carrot souflette and furthermore the recipe was in the newspaper, which I KNOW it was, I cut it out. Meanwhile, her grown son is piping in that his mother has never made carrot souflette (nothing like a gang up) and just exactly what is my vision of carrot souflette? I said, I don't know, eggs, butter, milk, sugar. He informed, Mom makes mashed carrots with salt and butter only. WELL, WHATEVER, carrot souflette in my book. She mashes them like potatoes. She finished up by saying, I never brought mashed carrots to a church dinner.

Folks, I GIVE UP. But in the Dirty Santa gift exchange I got a really neat gift, for once in my life. At first I opened a picture book from a movie on the nativity. Included was a candle holder carved with the manger scene. Someone shouted, That is from Israel! I said, It says here, MADE IN CHINA. So I sat down and thumbed through the book because I adore looking at pictures of the Holy Land. Not sure if they filmed the movie in Israel, but I pretended they did. Fortunately, someone stole my gift and my new gift was a $10 gift card to the grocery store. I liked that. The carrot souflette boy had gone first in the exchange, so he got to go last, too. He wanted my Publix gift card, but he had compassion because I am a family, or part of one, whereas he is a young bachelor, so he didn't steal it.

The carrot souflette lady, who was almost last to go, ended up picking out the gift I had brought, which was a CD of some coffee music. It has a German title and she tried to read it to the group. When she sat down next to me, not knowing it was my gift, of course, she gave it the once over and then shrugged to her husband, trying to make the best of a bum pick, It might not be that bad. HA! I bought several of these CD's once upon a time and it was just aching to be delivered from the prison of the gift box. Well, the carrot souflette lady cracks me up any day of the year, and she certainly did not disappoint tonight.

Then I won Bingo. Boy, was this a banner night, or what? Carrot Souflette Woman said, Let's play E Bingo. She was dying to win, but I won, Gary and I both won, but I shouted BINGO! first and got to pick my prize, which was a huge ball ornament full of who knows what. Gary got the reject. Then the choir gave me a $50 gift card to Macy's, way to go choir.

This Gary, during the dinner he folded green construction papers and made a three dimensional Christmas tree out of them. Everyone at the table oohed and aahed. Then he and three others stood in front of the group and were asked to take a sheet of green construction paper and make a Christmas tree out of it . . . behind their backs. I handed Gary his fancy tree and said, Hold this out front when time us up. So, that's what he did and, needless to say, his work of art tree was quite superior to the torn shabby blobs of trees everyone else produced. But since he cheated, it didn't count.

As far as the Dirty Santa, the two women in charge of the party had two separate and distinct ideas how to handle it, do Dirty Santa, or don't. The one lady is a hoot and she said, Whatever everyone wants. So, of course, we all wanted Dirty Santa. Halfway through it, she lost track of which number was next, so she waved her hand and sorta slurred, Whoever, whatever, I don't care. It was funny and I thought, She's getting soaked. But on what? Gary said, You been hitting the bottle?, echoing my sentiments exactly. Oh, and she was the one who got my friend's gift. My friend, I watched him do it in his house, picked an old used Gaiter Trio CD from his stash and proceded to wrap it in the Toys 'R Us newspaper ad, which at least boasted the Christmas colors. The lady did a country jig upon the revelation of this exquisite gift. I'm telling you, we had a jolly good time.

Okay, the Jazz went out in the bitter cold and now she must have her Greenie toothbrush for a treat, which is almost as fabulous as a sweet potato french fry -- but falls far short of a car ride.

KEM the Blogger and not the Housecleaner

What do you know? I woke up this morning after 7 hours of sleep and I actually felt normal -- human normal. I got up. I had a day. Now I'm zonked, so catch you tomorrow . . . not used to being normal. If it lasts it will take some getting used to . . . gladly.

Oh yeah, glass ornaments on the tree. I need to watch a good Christmas movie when I try my hand at tying the bows. I will try to be relaxed. In college I took a calligraphy class and it made me so nervous, my hand would cramp and freeze, which yielded less than desirable results. The teacher used to say, You wouldn't ballroom dance all stiff and frozen, gripping your partner so the oxygen flow stopped, it wouldn't be very graceful. This is true, but somehow the analogy did not transfer to easy elegant flourishes with a fountain pen. My calligraphy looked stiff and frozen because I clutched the pen within an inch of its life. No. I squeezed it to death.

Sweet Dreams,
KEM

The answer for watering the Christmas tree is to do it with a turkey baster. Probably this tip is as old as the hills (older), but it's news to me. The idea came when I realized the new doc telling me to turkey baste my nose was not going to work out . . . not work out at all. So, I am stuck with a turkey baster but now it is put to good use, it slips easily (being a somewhat graceful implement) right up next to the trunk and water squirts directly into the basin and not all over the tree skirt and presents. Life is good. The can-can tree skirt is sitting there under the lighted tree. Have to decide if it's a keeper. It might be. My stepson came for dinner and see, I had the skirt hanging from a hook in the ceiling, and he says, What's that? He thought it was a pirate outfit.

My dinner was one of those where the cupboard was bare but there was no getting to the store either. So I am pleased to announced that I made crepes (yes, I got a non-stick omelette pan) with a white sauce tuna filling. Not bad for a desperate woman.

Then more cleaning with Andy Griffith to keep me company (Andy makes ALL the difference). Then back to Target to see what was up with the coupons. Fortunately, the customer service woman believed me, she said the cashier I had was a new girl who didn't understand about the red lights on the register (meaning the coupons weren't taking). So, I walked away with $8.49, three of those bucks being a customer courtesy for all the coupons I used which I now couldn't remember, which I don't know if there were any, but I gave myself the benefit of the doubt and decided my trouble to get back there was well worth three bucks. Of course, the other reason I was there was to get the Tide and Bounty, but no sooner did I approach the Target entrance when, BOING!, I had left the coupons on the kitchen counter (well, the pile on the counter). At least we are moving in the right direction as the coupons were removed from the December wad. Well, I couldn't bring myself to buy Tide and Bounty and pay $2.35 more, so it's another trip back to Target, the coupons now tucked in my real purse. I'm telling you, the coupon system has GOT TO GO. Companies should just stick the coupons right on the package, like they do sometimes. Do it all the time, reward your customers and entice new ones. I am more apt to buy something if I see a coupon stuck on the bottle that says, USE ME NOW. Listen to KEM, Corporate America! I'm sure every other woman in America feels exactly as I do, so listen to The Women of America! Make our lives a little jollier.

Picked up a few stocking stuffers for DTD. Christmas is fun, if it doesn't kill me first.

Uh-oh, I made an impulse buy today and I am 1,000 % remorseful. It's a OneTouch Hands-Free Can Opener, AS SEEN ON TV (that should have been my first clue). Let's just put it this way, what used to take about 10 seconds, opening a can with a manual opener, will now take about 5 minutes. Yes, you heard me. Why? Because whereas I used to rinse off my can opener, in order to clean this nifty new gadget, you have to remove the battery cover (watch the batteries fall to the floor) and then lift the front cap off. Then you can wash and dry the blade and housing. FUN. And let me tell you something else, it took 10 minutes to remove that front buggary cap and 10 minutes to replace it, it's just funky and I didn't want to force it for fear of snapping the plastic in two. So, really, I have opened one can of tuna and it took me 45 minutes. I want my money back. PLUS, this thing slices through the SIDE of the can, not the top, so tuna juice washed over the edge like Niagra Falls. Yep, BUYER'S REMORSE.

You are probably wondering, Why would you need a hands-free opener in the first place? Well, it's because I assumed it would spare my long, delicate fingers the strain and twist associated with my hands-on opener. Once a musician friend said I mustn't do house work and spoil my fingers for the piano. She was adamant. And it's true, every time I do a big house cleaning, my fingers are ruined. Of course, you are probably wondering, Why didn't you just buy a conventional electric can opener. Because the One Touch is so cute, of course. Looks are so deceiving. Initially, I had thought about buying my parents the One Touch and figured I should test it out first. Well, further words are pointless.

Still fishing for a brain cell,
KEM

After laboring bordering on going wacko over GUBYL, Mike finally said, The word is in a form you may not be thinking of. Okay, that helps :--- So, finally, I said, It's not BULGY, is it? He said, YES! Oh, for Corn's sake. I thought of bulgy earlier on the day before, but when I checked Webster, bulgy wasn't mentioned. Whoever heard of BULGY? Bulging, yes. Bulgy, no. So, of course, I had to Google it and come to find out bulgy means "having a bulge, or bulges." Brilliant. It also happens to be the name of the double-decker bus in the Thomas the Train outfit. Listen, in the JUMBLE directions it says, Unscramble these letters to form ordinary words. HA! Honestly, this had better not happen again anytime soon . . . JUMBLE boys, beware.

I forced myself to go shopping again tonight. Mike, happily, needs new dress shirts for work, so TJMaxx was my destination. Target is right there, too. Well, I found two nice shirts for Mike. By the way, let me insert that my dressy, ruffled $188.00 blouse for $20.00, I happily report that it is superb. It really has that something special.

Well, I was only feeling half alive tonight, so it was way too much effort, when I parked at Target, to reach over to the passenger seat to snatch up my coupon purse, which is separate and distinct from my purse-purse. I convinced myself that I wouldn't need it, I would stick to my list and the chosen coupons already in my purse. No sooner did I get to the detergent aisle, than I saw a posted note, Buy Tide and one other targeted thing and get a $5 gift card for Target. Oh, no! That sounded really good, since the Tide was already Price Cut. Back out to the car. Back to the Tide. Now guess what? I discovered that my big wad of December coupons, that has Tide and Bounty coupons, was not in the little coupon purse. Oh, no, baby, they were back at home where I left them on the counter after picking out the December coupons I was going to use tonight. So, I decided I would have to come back to Target later in the week to buy my Tide. I shopped and checked out, noticing the young cashier was having trouble scanning my coupons. I got home and guess what? Yeah, that's right, over $5 of my coupons never registered. So, what will Customer Service do about this? I cringe to know, as I find that Target is not especially customer friendly. AND THIS, my friends is why coupons should be banned, declared illegal and deleted from the planet from this day forth and forevermore (I've been saying this for years).

Our Christmas tree is inside. That is all that happened today, it came inside to it's cozy little corner in the living room. But I worked hard in the living room today. Every day, I have to clean something 'cause I made the deep plunge to schedule the window cleaners for Monday. Now, one has to tidy up for the window cleaners, everyone knows that.

My friend was telling me about her fabulous wool pillow that her son took on a road trip this summer. It got lost. Then it got found a few days ago. It was in a car trunk all this time, where rain leaked in and molded it, but good. My friend is the Research Queen, so she called the wool company and asked what to do. They said wash it but if there are still black spots, then you will have to chuck it, because black spots, even after washed, indicate the mold is still hanging around.

Well. Let me tell you my little story. I have the bad habit of using old wash cloths for hand mopping the floor, but then letting them fester in the laundry room sink for who knows how long, instead of washing them on the spot, there's the bad habit part. Why do I do this? I guess I'm waiting for a big load of rags. So, I see that some of them mold and I put them through the inferno cycle on the machine. They come out looking . . . eh, not so spanky, but at least the mold seems calmed down. So, this last time I said, That's it, this bunch of rags offers one last round of service before they are killed. So, I dampen them, clean the dirty old floor, one rag at a time, and then that rag hits the trash. Well, one wet rag didn't get used before Target, and after Target I went to pick it up and you wanna know what? It had all these big inky black spots, that, I assure you, were not visible to that extent when the rag came out of the dryer. But they were hidden in there (sneaky) and the water resurrected them in about 3 hours. I'm telling you, the mold spots were black blobs the size of quarters, huge polka dots, which I had never seen before. Incredible. And TOTALLY GROSS. So now I know, and I had already decided that new rags were required and I bought them tonight. Honestly, I keep things for WAY TOO LONG. And tonight I read an article about knowing when things aren't working and to get rid of the old to make room for the new. The article was the weekly dissertation of Debra Lynn Dadd, the Green Living expert. I just happened to catch up on email and read that tonight. Good timing, good-bye scary old moldy rags.

Time for a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Last night I ate two custard cups and I immediately felt better. Mike had one custard for lunch, then when he left, I had the last two custard cups. Tonight when Mike scanned the fridge for a custard cup, there weren't any. Well, that is just too bad, custard was calling me and I heeded the call. Mike is out of his Ginger Sandwich Creme Cookies, that he is addicted to, I might add.

Custard KEM

Today was the day to go bananas Christmas shopping. Starting with picking out the Christmas tree, which is now reposing on the deck until further notice.

Then I did birthday shopping for DTD because I was crazy enough to have her twelve days before Christmas. It gives The Twelve Days of Christmas new meaning, seriously. Of course, she was twelve days past her due date. Good math going here.

Then I returned the polyester pants Mike would have no part of. It really helped me because I readily applied that $50 to other more interesting shopping, and when the cashier told me the total, I didn't fall into a stupor, because I basically had $50 credit, to my way of thinking although Mike doesn't "get" that.

I shall now brag about the top I found at Marshall's. My buggy was full but on my way to the register, one last Clearance rack told me to get over there. Boy, am I glad I did, because four more articles, ALL FOR ME, jumped into my cart. But the prize was this dark teal pretty sleeveless blouse (with ruffles) that the manufacturer was milking the world at large, gullible women at small, for a teensy $188.00. Marshall's had if on Clearance for $20.00. I had to buy that just for the principal of the thing. I didn't try it on, but here's to hoping for the best. It would be a blouse for a fancy party, since I'm a socialite and all. Maybe I should just frame it.

Oh yeah, and the silly buy of the day was a tree skirt. Lately, I've been wrapping a blanket around the base of the tree. Well, lately, I haven't even done that as last year I bought a table top tree, pre-decorated, which I enjoyed immensely, but Mike and DTD were disgusted with it (me). The year before I don't think I did a tree at all. Did I? Who knows. Okay, so this tree skirt looks exactly like a ruffled skirt, a very full ruffled skirt, with panels of red and gold. I really don't know, I haven't tried it on the tree yet, of course, don't know if it will look so swell with elegant white lights, white ornaments and white bows . . . all white. Then a loud ruffled skirt that looks like it's something straight out of The Wild Wild West setting it all off. Well, if there's one thing we know, it's that KEM does not understand balance and harmony and color when it comes to decorating (so what does she understand about decorating?). I have learned this about myself as I read newspaper articles giving tips for decorating, and I'm going, You don't say? Anyhow, the tree skirt could easily be converted to a real skirt KEM wouldn't be caught dead in, I've held it up and swished it around, it's ideal for the Can-Can. I can just see DTD'S face when she gets a load of this.

What I need is my friend Brad to come handle my Christmas tree. He posted a picture of his tree on Facebook, his bare tree. It was tall and a bit gangly. The next day he posted pictures of the tree, decorated. For crying out loud, it's a work of art, it's MAGNIFICENT. I told him, If I had a year I could never hang that many ornaments, much less do so artistically. HOW DO PEOPLE DO IT?? There is not one pine needle of that tree that isn't brushing up against some exquisite ornament or light or bead. The gangly limbs are thoroughly incorporated into this masterpiece. What gangly limbs?? They were part of the plan all along. I don't know when I've been so impressed. I told him, ENTER THIS IN A CONTEST!!! It's GORGEOUS.

So, then it was off to Macy's, where they sell REAL men's pants. If the economy is still on the blink, you wouldn't know it judging by the traffic, parking lots and crowds at the store counters. It's such a waiting game. I drove around looking for a decent parking space and I saw someone pull out and I zipped right in. Then when I pulled out, someone zipped right in again. That poor parking space didn't have half a second to itself. And that's the way it is. Which makes me very happy for the stores because people work in and for those stores. What I'm trying to say is that I'm VERY happy for the people who need their jobs in these stores.

I am kind of in a state of shock that I have a tree and nearly all shopping done. What is this?? Normally, we get our tree a day or two before Christmas, one that is so dried out by that late date it's ready to set fire if you merely turn on a lamp. My first Christmas married, we didn't have a tree. My mother-in-law came to visit and she had a conniption. She MADE us go to a convenience store in the dark on Christmas Eve to get a tree. We came home with a branch . . . a very small and hideous branch . . . one that made Charlie Brown's tree look lush, a rare object of desire.

And normally, I'm in the thick of the mad crowds the day or two before Christmas, still shopping. There are never gifts under our tree unless they came in the mail. I wrap for hours Christmas Eve. No longer, Sisters and Brothers. I almost wrapped everything (which, really, we are going light this year) tonight, but instead I wrapped nothing, because enough is enough for one day.

My shopping amazed me today. What is this, buying the first thing I see for each person. Seriously, that is how it went. And I think I did okay, but I could be kidding myself. This is why I have learned to say, Gift receipt, please. Still, it is so unlike me. For instance, when I was going to meet my former mother-in-law for the first time, at Christmas, I spent every lunch hour for the four months before Christmas racing around to every shop in the city until I was POSITIVE I had the perfect gift to adequately impress her. And guess what was that perfect gift?? The very first thing I ever saw in the first place, four months prior. B-a-R-U-U-T-H-E-R. That was kind of a light bulb moment. Kind of. But I guess I'm too old and tired to shop like that anymore, or too smart, although sometimes I do get carried away. It's OCD again. But I tell myself, A nice gift is a nice gift, too bad you can't view every possible gift in the world, so just go for this one right here and now. Besides, anymore there is so much STUFF in the world, nothing seems too terribly special. Unless it's that blouse I got for a smidge more than 10% of the price. Watch it look like a joke on me, and then I'll go, Aha!, so THIS is why it was reduced. Next thing you know, they'll be paying me to remove it from the premises. Oh, please don't return this blouse, they'll plead. We offer you what you paid for it, pretty please, just keep it, they cajole. Whatever.

Maybe I will be ready for Christmas and actually find myself baking cookies with frosting. Oonagh, please send me your cookie recipe as I can't find mine even though Laura gave it to me once upon a time. I want to make S & S Cinnamon Rolls, too. They are my specialty. I have made them twice in my whole life. And I have these blue and white striped tins that cry buckets every year as they once again stay put. Imagine filling them with S & S Cinnamon Rolls and showing up at someone's front door. Oh, I imagine it all right.

But most of all, I want to listen to Christmas music, watch old Christmas movies, drink almond milk hot chocolate and, most importantly revere the Christ child.

So, better clean this house and stick with my convictions.

I'm glad I wrote a real blog tonight, it made my sinuses feel better, because I forgot about them. I know I've signed off dairy for life, but dare I (ha) go scarf down a baked custard? Somehow, cooked dairy doesn't still seem like dairy, not quite the same animal . . . not exactly.

Cannot figure out the Jumble today. But I say to Mike over lunch, What is GUBYL, but don't you dare tell me. Eleven seconds later he says, I got it. He got it in his head. It's infuriating, he does it all the time. I study it for all of breakfast, lunch and dinner, with the letters smack in front of me. Mike says I will feel really silly when I figure out what it is. Well, whatever, at least one day last week I got everything quick, quick, I was sharp that day (or Jumble was easy). Nevertheless it does give one hope. I think I will go grab a custard and stare at GUBYL some more.

SUPER DULL KEM

On the way to church I listen to a good preacher on the radio. Today he said, If your trials and tribulations are making you angry and bitter instead of bringing you to see God's wisdom and love in all of it and drawing you closer to Him, then you should be nervous.

I don't want to say any more tonight.

Love to all of you,
KEM

The Gators lose and Tim Tebow does not finish spectacularly. Very sad. But I'm sure God will use this disappointment in his life. Interestingly, the Bible reference he wrote under his eyes today was John 16:33 -- These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

It's neat that Tim says -- even before this game -- that it is just that, a game, and that there are far more important things in the world. He seems so balanced. It will be fun to see what he does next.

Another day in the history of the Universe . . . GONE.
KEM

Well, well. I quick shopped a little bit and I bought two pairs of pants for Mike that I shouldn't have bought and I didn't buy the top for DTD that I should have bought. Tomorrow I shall try this again. Do you think the top will still be at Marshall's?

My question is, Do I do life or does life do me? Afraid I already know the answer to that one.

When my sister isn't here to shop with me and help me know what to do, I depend on perfect strangers to tell me what to do. For the Christmas tree this year, I want to use my clear glass balls that have white (duh) snowflakes and stuff painted on them, white lights and white bows. White, light, bright. The craft stores don't sell white bows already made (why not?), so I stood in the ribbon aisle (sounds like the Button Counter of old department store fame) and found dainty white organdy with wire in the edges. But right before I stood there, as I was walking up to stand there, I watched a customer look at gray organdy ribbon and tie it into a bow and give it the critical eye. Wasn't that convenient? So I said to the lady, Do you think these are easy to tie into bows for my Christmas tree, 'cause I'm not very crafty. She thought it would be super easy and was herself buying ribbon for her daughter's hair 'cause her daughter was going to be in a play. Miss Nosy has to ask, Where is the play? Well, it was at her church. I said, My friend goes to that church. She said, Your friend used to go to that church. So, like I always say, St. Pete is the smallest of small towns. You can't talk to anyone and not come up with a connection within the minute. A word to the wise, shall we say.

The end of this story is I walked out of JoAnn's with two rolls of white organdy ribbon, and let's just hope the fairies snip and tie all night and I wake up to beautiful white bows. That would be a good example of life doing me.

My friend said that during this busy season I should call my blogs BLOGETTES. So, this is what we shall have until the new year, BLOGETTES. I like that.

Oh, soon, I have to tell you the dream I woke up with this morning. It made me laugh out loud. It has to do with molded jello. Made notes in margin of Sports Illustrated, so I won't forget.

Until We Meet Again,
KEM

Giving up all dairy in an effort to salvage my sinuses. I'm caught in the trap of chronic sinus infections, exhaustion, antibiotics and migraine headaches. Rats.

Miss MiGraine is calling it a day.

Today my friend took me on a birthday lunch. Wherever we go, we find trouble, it's our specialty. At the little cafe, well, the electricity was off, which of course I noticed instantly, what with no lights or whirs. The significance of this is that even though the cafe is a no-cook restaurant, that's right, eat it raw, well, everything we ordered, the brand-new-first-day waitress had to come back to our table and announce, I'm so sorry, but we are out of that. So, we'd order something different, and a few minutes later, here she is again, Well, we can't serve cold soup because we don't know how long the electricity has been off. Later, we learned why the electricity has been turned off -- the owner forgot to pay the electric bill. We struck up a nice conversation with her. We actually struck up conversations with everyone in sight, that is our specialty. My friend is exceedingly specialized in this department, among many others. She is a Day Brightener, she leaves happy smiles in her wake.

We followed this up by going next door to a Moroccan shop where everything is handmade/hand painted. However, the sign on the door said, CLOSED, back at 11:00 AM. That seemed unfortunate, since it was 1:30 PM. I turned the doorknob anyway, wouldn't you? It opened right up and we walked right inside and no one was around. But then we heard a noise in a door to a side room. A young man came out and we said, You are closed, but the door was open, so here we are. He said, I was just going to the bathroom. Okay, what do you say after that? We looked at all the neat stuff. We struck up a nice conversation with him. On the way out I said, Are you still closed? He was not, so I flipped his sign to OPEN. Good deed for the day.

Then we trotted off in the direction of ice cream. We got detoured somehow and the next thing you know, we happen upon a very fresh car accident. It didn't look pretty and it didn't look nice. We did not strike up a conversation.

We then had delicious chocolate chip frozen yogurt and also Prawline frozen yogurt. On the way out we struck up a conversation with the young woman owner. She was standing behind the counter, which is very low, so we had good visibility to see behind the scenes. Not that we were looking, but it's hard to miss a giant black lab lying half way in a huge box on the floor (the box was on its side). Hello. Turns out this dog was nursing her two boy pups, born less than 24 hours prior. Let's hope the pups weren't born right while they were serving up ice cream, right for all the world to take in, in-between slurps and licks. Am I talking about the dogs or the patrons?

Okay, I think I'll quit while I'm ahead. Am I still ahead?
KEM

Okay, I just finished picking off the turkey and let me tell you, DIMINISHING RETURNS has taken on new meaning for me. Anyone been there, done that? It's very hard work and should be given up promptly, as soon as the big chunks of meat land in the Ziplock. All other tiny stubborn morsels that fight with you, let them be. I should have set a Unit for turkey picking. Yeah, that's what I should have done. Jazzi certainly enjoyed the gleanings of this endeavor.

Had my appointment with new sinus specialist. I learned a new word, RECIRCULATION. It ain't purty and it ain't nice. And more shall be revealed later . . .

Enjoying Mike's New Job,
KEM

1 Chronicles 29:11-13 “Thine, O LORD is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty: for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is the kingdom, O LORD, and thou art exalted as head above all. Both riches and honour come of thee, and thou reignest over all; and in thine hand is power and might; and in thine hand it is to make great, and to give strength unto all. Now therefore, our God, we thank thee, and praise thy glorious name.”

Didn't know that verse was in Chronicles. Neat verse, huh?

Am suffering brain burn doing JUMBLE. How it could take me so long (bordering on forever) to figure out what jintec was, I'll never know. But with my OCD, figure it out I did. However, I don't always get the punchline. If it doesn't seem like something I might get promptly, promptly I forget it. Just figuring out the four words does a sizzle and fry job. And then today, since I'm new at this, I saw SIX words to unscramble, the end result of which was scrambled brains. I guess on Sunday they think you have all day to scratch your scalp. Well, we shall see how long this lasts. I presume that you get better at it as you go.

Tomorrow I have to summon all my character and put it to work for me. Since Mike is starting his new job, I have to fall in line. Hup, two!

BYE!
KEM

Blogging is definitely taking a back seat these days. But that's okay, the spirit has to move, there is no forcing it.

I knew I was hopelessly tired last night when even Bugs Bunny didn't make me crack a smile. Normally, Bugs has me in stitches, he's such an agreeable and saucy little fellow, depending on who, at the moment, is sharing the frame with him. Honestly, to not laugh at Looney Tunes, it felt like I was halfway to the next world, meaning not coming back to this one.

After a VERY relaxing day of doing NOTHING except staring at the JUMBLE (tip: don't try the JUMBLE unless you are fresh, fresh, fresh, a dull mind is simply not going to cut it, TRUST me), we went to the mall (two more pairs of free unmentionables). I am on a mission to buy ONE gift for each person, except, of course, for DTD and stepson. Gotta get back on our feet and all that. I think it will be very quaint to tone down the gifts this year. Not that anyone is going to agree with me, but that's the way it is and shall remain.

I did get to visit with my neighbors this evening. That's a rarity. Salad and punkin (Mike keeps waiting for me to spell that "p" word just right) pie for dinner. Now it's beddy-by because 3.5 hours of sleep has never done it for me yet. I resisted the overpowering urge to nap, because as of Monday, I am on a completely new schedule. Just you wait and see. No more all nighters. My nights shall become nights and my days shall become days, instead of the present reverse layout and all that. I'm going to hope this works out, it just HAS to. Because of Mike's wonderful new job and all that.

And all that . . .
KEM

Made my abbreviated Thanksgiving dinner. It took all day. Even Looney Tunes could not tempt me to stay up any later. Not even JUMBLE. Thank goodness we have food for the next few days.
Pumpking poured out of a box into a graham cracker crust is very good.

Sorry Folks, That's All, to spin off of Merry Melody Looney Tunes.
KEM

O, give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good!

Oh, HAPPY DAY! Mike has a wonderful new job!! Big huge answer to prayer and thanks to everyone who kept the prayers going. We love you! God is so good to us!!!

That AOL article about cooking your Thanksgiving dinner in 30 minutes. Well, I got so happy tonight that even though we are going to be guests for Thanksgiving dinner, I decided to run to the store and get a turkey and all the main stuff so I can cook our own dinner on Friday. It took me 30 minutes from the time I left my driveway to the time I came back home to my driveway. So even though not in a million years could I cook in 30 minutes, I have derived a lot of satisfaction from shopping in 30 minutes. It was totally sponataneous and I came home with lots of shortcuts for an already abbreviated menu. Seriously, I was going for sweet potatoes and pecans to make a dish to take tomorrow, but I came home with you name it. And it has left me feeling a little smug, savvy, smart and sassy.

Did you know you can buy those neat little carton/boxes of organic turkey gravy? I didn't until tonight. I also bought pumkin pie in a carton, just pour, add egg and pour into a graham cracker crust. Lots of pouring. Normally, this is not my style, but it is this time and I shall have to let you know the results. At least the graham cracker is organic, ha! Will cook some real cranberries, that only takes a second, and stir in some jarred cranberries, too, and lemon. Sweet tater casserole, which makes everything else taste all the better, mashed taters, peas. Stuffing. I even broke down and bought a tub of organic pre-diced celery and onion to go in the stuffing. That happened because it looked interesting and upon closer examination, it looked all fresh and beautiful. And it had to be sold by Nov. 28 and there were lots of these tubs left. It was a new item the health food store was carrying and I didn't want them to be disappointed and stuck with buckets of diced celery and onion. So I did my part. I am suddenly such in the mood to do my part.

Oh, and speaking of onion, I bought an impulse bag of tiny pearl onions. Only because Annie used to make creamed pearl onions for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. I have no idea how to make them so I asked the check-out girl. She said her grandmother from Holland used to boil them. I said, Do you cut the ends off first? She thought so. And then on second thought she suggested, GOOGLE it. Good idea.

And finally, speaking of mashed potatoes, my friend the excellent cook, she made her potatoes last night and, horror of horrors, they went pasty on her. She appreciates pasty potatoes about as much as I do. I sympathized and said when mine whip into paste it's so depressing that I want to dig a hole and bury them. Except I worked too hard on them to do that, so we eat them and I suffer. My friend is going to turn hers into potato pancakes. She read up on it and found out you need to add the butter first. This coats the molecules (that is as scientific as I want to get, but she said there was an entire deep scientific explanation). Then you add your milk and mash. Of course, I always dry my potatoes back on the burner, but sometimes they still revolt into paste, so now butter goes in first. I hope I remember this come tater time. Mashed potatoes are entirely too much work to be a failure, they must be a success or at least salvaged at all costs.

I read on Facebook that this guy was hoping his Thanksgiving would be perfect, just like he remembered his childhood Thanksgivings. I hope it's PERFECT perfect for him.

Happiest of All Thanksgivings to EVERYONE!
KEM