It's That Time Again

Instead of admonishing you to have a safe New Year, or reminding you to have a designated driver, or any of that tired old crap that has become so lodged in our subconscious that it's redundant, I'll simply tell you all how much I appreciate your friendship and thank you for making my blog part of your day.

Have a great night tonight, however you spend it, and I'll see you tomorrow in 2010!

Click here

to hear the theme song of our party tonight.
And turn it up!!!

Button Mushroom Syndrome

I don't believe people. Last night at 2:30, while I was sitting here in the living room, I heard a pickup drive by that was going way too fast and revving his engine like he was impressing someone. Even without the snow and ice on the ground and the snow coming down it would have been too fast, but you know how guys in pickups are. Anyway, I heard him skid out as he attempted to make the corner. Not that Starsky & Hutch kind of skidding, but that pickup-on-snow-and-ice skidding. Then I heard a huge crunch. I hadn't heard two cars, so my mind immediately analyzed that he had hit something stationary. My first thought was the car that belongs to the young couple across the street.

I jumped up and looked out the window and saw a black pickup working really hard to backup over the couple's yard, slipping and sliding, and then take off up the street at breakneck speed. The couple wasn't home, and I remembered that they'd left on Boxing Day. Thank God. There is significant damage to their front porch. Damned hit and run driver!

I called the police, but all they said was to write everything down and give it to the couple when they return home.

What is it with guys in pickups? I'll bet the driver was on his way home from a bar. A couple of years ago this happened a few streets away, except instead of mangling a front porch the drunk driver crashed through the side of a house, barely missing an infant sleeping in his crib.

I have my eye open for you, hotshot. When I see you drive by with your crushed-in hood, I'm taking down your plate number. Hope you're proud of yourself today.

How I Spent My New Year's Eves

It's funny how things are in different places. I've spent New Year's Eves in California, New York, Colorado and London, and if I had my choice of where to spend this year's special night, I'd choose California. Oklahoma people are so darned serious about life. Everything is wrapped around job, family and church, and friendships are usually rooted in one of those three institutions. People get old fast here, something that I fight with all of my strength. Once you're married, fun with friends flies out the window, unless it's the occasional barbecue.

Outside of Ville's Halloween parties every year, Nettl and I have only been invited to one other party in the 9 years we've lived here. And that one was Halloween as well. I'm not counting the yearly Christmas party with the Stillwater Chamber Singers because that's a group thing that's open only to members and their spouses. I guess the college kids have parties. I mean, I hear the music in the summertime. But friends inviting friends over just to hang out? It doesn't happen. Getting people to come to a party is like pulling teeth, too. They're tired, or they don't feel like going out, or they've planned to watch a movie...

I guess I'm just feeling a little sad because it looks like no one will be coming to our yearly party this year. Allen may be back in town in time and Jayce said she'll be stopping by, but Ville has to work that night, as well as the next morning (oof), so it looks like it'll be Nettl, Joel, Micah, Heather and I. We'll have a great time--we always do--but it's New Year's Eve for crapsake; I like kicking off the new year with my friends. I miss my old friends and I miss making new ones. Of course, I understand that the weather is a factor this year. The roads are still a mess from the blizzard last weekend and we're expecting more snow tonight.

So, in honor of all of my New Year's Eves (happy or otherwise) here's a list of how I spent them from the year that I turned 21:

1972:  Played a gig in Sylmar.
1973:  Played a gig in Ventura.
1974:  Stayed home.
1975:  Played a TV gig.
1976:  Clubbing in Ventura.
1977:  Hosted a party.
1978:  Clubbing in London.
1979:  Stayed home.
1980:  Clubbing in Camarillo.
1981:  Hosted a party.
1982:  Clubbing in Camarillo.
1983:  Invited to a party in Ventura.
1984:  Clubbing in Santa Maria.
1985:  Invited to a party in Ventura.
1986:  Hung out with friends.
1987:  Invited to a party in Ventura.
1988:  Hosted a party.
1989:  Hosted a party.
1990:  Invited to a party in Oxnard.
1991:  Hosted a party.
1992:  Hosted a party.
1993:  House sat for Ville & drank alone with the dog and several cats.
1994:  Party cruise boat in New York City.
1995:  Partied at Ville's.
1996:  Clubbing in Ventura.
1997:  Hosted a party.
1998:  Hosted a party.
1999:  Stayed home.
2000:  Stayed home.
2001:  Hosted a party.
2002:  Stayed home.
2003:  Hosted a party.
2004:  Hosted a party.
2005:  Hosted a party.
2006:  Hosted a party.
2007:  Hosted a party.
2008:  Hosted a party.

Here are a few pictures from some of those years:

Me & my champs - 1989

Me with Manu - 1990

I spank myself while Ville & unknown guy watch - 1991

Bill, me, Lauren, Netttl, Ville, Heather, Joel & Micah - 2006

Allen & Nettl - 2007

Micah - 2008

Wise readers know to ask no questions...
___________________________
UPDATE: Allen got back last night and will be here. Yay! Our parties never begin until Allen walks in the door!

Rounding a Corner

I've made a horrifying discovery: I can no longer drink like I used to. I had a little wine over the holiday, which only resulted in my not feeling very well. I don't mean in the hangover department, I mean while drinking.

I gave up spirits decades ago, which included all mixed drinks and straight shots. I was a force to be reckoned with in those days, my friends. Although I'm little--and was even littler back then--I could drink many men under the table and scarcely feel it. And hangovers? Pah! What were those? I owe that to my metabolism, which was really, really fast. I gave them up due to an ulcer I acquired while maintaining a 4.0 GPA in college. Then Thyroidzilla attacked and has managed to wrest even beer and wine from me.

This New Year's Eve will be my last toot. Outside of a glass or two of wine with friends or over dinner, I'm done. But I'm going out in style: I'll be drinking only champagne, and dry champagne at that. The dryer the better.

I now understand my mentor, Frank, a little better. At his parties he'd whisper to me, "Let's get soused" and while he poured me the never-ending glass of wine, he'd sip on the same glass all evening.

I've already cut way back anyway; it's not like anything is really going to change. The wine I drink is pretty weak, and I've gotten used to pouring it over a full glass of ice, or mixing it with water Viennese style. But my pirate days are over. It was fun, but everything eventually draws to its natural conclusion. We outgrow things and we move on happily to something else. I hope I'm not seeing prune juice and Geritol up the road...

When Only a Bullet List Will Do

We have arrived at the most confounding days of the year, that is, those four days that are wedged between Boxing Day and New Year's Eve. I say confounding because, for the better part of this week, I'll never really know what day it is. Well, I've always maintained that it's good for us to sometimes lode our illusion of control, and always having to know the day is just one of those. If losing track of the days is difficult for you, try this little stab at control. I give you a bullet list:

• This morning I awoke to coffee and biscotti. Am I not the most fortunate of spouses?
  
• The little snowman across the street lost his gloves in the wind last night. I can see them lying on the ground; I hope the couple who built him will put them back on him. He looks cold!
  
• We were going take our decorations and tree down yesterday, but we just weren't in the mood. We'll have to do it this evening, I think, because the tree is past being dead and I have a New Year's Eve party to get ready for.
  
• The snow is melting very, very slowly, which is fine with me. It still looks really pretty out there and it makes the crazy drivers slow down when they're making the corner on which our house sits.
  
• Our cat, Lowrider, has a bad case of cabin fever. She wants to go outside so badly that she sometimes knocks things over trying to get to the windows. I keep opening the door for her, but she just looks up at me as if to say, "Are you feckin' buts? I'm not going out there!"
  
• Our yearly Christmas music marathon wasn't so bad this year. I found a station on Live365 called Peaceful Christmas that played a combination of elevator and Windham Hill music that we really enjoyed. I admit that I can take only so much of the Vienna Boys Choir and the von Trapp Family. And hymns? Forget it. One more O, Holy Night and I'll go mad.
  
• Our New Year's Eve party this year will have no theme (did I already tell you this?), but I'll be playing music of the 1960s, '70s and '80s, thanks again to Live365. Decorations will be kept at a minimum and cleanup will be a breeze.

Okay, enough for now.

A Jolly Winter Scene

The young couple across the street is busily making a snow man with their 19 month-old little girl. We're enjoying watching them so much that I thought I'd take a picture.

It's the simple things that give so much pleasure.

A Quiet Boxing Day - Scrabble Maybe?

As I sit here in bed, looking out of the bay windows, all I see is white! We had quite a blizzard on Christmas Eve, that really gave everyone (in our house anyway) the Holiday spirit. It's still pretty cold out there, but it's warmer than it was yesterday at this time. The last time we had a white Christmas here was in 2000, when Micah came down to visit and got snowed in. This is his last Christmas with us, so it was perfect. The fitting conclusion to a 9-year cycle. The only thing that the snow botched up was that Nathan couldn't spend the holiday with us; he was snowed in down in OKC and couldn't get up here.

One of the things I enjoy about living downtown, is that regardless of the weather, people walk around outside, carrying bags back from stores, walking their dogs, or just playing in the snow. At our other house, we were stuck out away from everything and never saw anyone.

The next thing is our annual New Year's Eve party. We're not doing a big deal this year, just a casual get-together with friends, with food, drink and music, and some fun. I usually have a theme (last year was a Tiki Bar theme), but everyone's just too worn out from the cares and hassles of the year.

So another one's in the can. Whew! I love Christmas, but I'm always glad when it's over!

Just a Couple More

 

Today it's bright and sunny, but it's only 19° so I doubt the foot of snow we got yesterday will melt anytime soon.

We had the best Christmas Eve ever (we open our presents then). We had a great buffet set up, and after opening our pressies we watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, A Muppet Christmas Carole and finished off with White Christmas. Today we'll just be lounging around in our jammies, new robes, socks, blankets, etc., eat, watch more movies, and relax.

I hope you all are having a wonderful Christmas (or whatever your celebrate) and that you remain safe and warm!

Have Yourself a Very Stevie Christmas #3/3

• Watch Stevie Riks' interview with the BBC here.
• Visit his website.
• See more of him on his YouTube channel.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks.

Thank You Santa!

Photos by Micah Atwell

To My Dear Blog Firends

With love & appreciation,

Steph

Have Yourself a Very Stevie Christmas #2/3

• Watch Stevie Riks' interview with the BBC here.
• Visit his website.
• See more of him on his YouTube channel.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks.

Have Yourself a Very Stevie Christmas #1/3

• Watch Stevie Riks' interview with the BBC here.
• Visit his website.
• See more of him on his YouTube channel.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks.

My Tamales!

Being the pastiest gringo you can imagine, it's reasonable that I've never made a tamale in my life. Being from southern California, however, I have eaten my fair share, especially on Christmas Eve. Well, tonight I spent about 3.5 hours in the kitchen making about four dozen tamales. I'm proud of myself. It's not hard, but it is extremely time-consuming. I hope everyone enjoys them because I probably won't do this again! Not without finagling a couple of people to help me. Anyway, here are my first Christmas Eve tamales! Click to enlargiate.

Niarb Ym Seldda Sserts

Due to the Hashimoto's Disease that is kept largely at bay with proper medication, my body does not react at all well when I experience a particularly stressful day. Like yesterday.

Have you ever had one of those days that just starts out badly and only gets worse? Of course. We all have them. Yesterday was one of those for me. I've always described these as days when, "everything I touch turns to ashes." The problem for me is the way I feel guilty for complaining. I mean, there are people with real problems, and when I piss and moan about my piddly little stresses, I feel guilty. But we have to beef, you know. I do it employing the best damned sardonic humor I can muster up; I'm a Libra after all, and that kind of humor is what we do best. It worked, but today I'm wiped out.

I was going to go out today and get some Christmas shopping done, but I think I'd better lay low and do it tomorrow. I'll go to the grocery this afternoon and get the things I need to start cooking for the holiday, though. We quit having a big, lavish Christmas dinner (featuring Nettl's famous prime rib with all the trimmings, including Yorkshire pudding and English trifle) because, frankly, Thanksgiving always wipes us out, financially. Our new tradition is a party buffet on Christmas Eve (we follow the German tradition of opening gifts then), and I'm making tamales this year. I want to introduce Nettl and the kids to this southern California tradition. Although there's not much to making them, they do require a bit of prep work, which I'll start tomorrow morning. Meantime, there's cookies and fudge to make. I just have to get the energy to do it, which means, as I've said, lying low today.

Our prediction for snow on Christmas Eve has been downgraded to rain. Humbug! I wanted snow. Still, it's growing ever grayer and wintery out there, which is at least weather.

We've decided to get a pre-lit artificial tree for next Christmas. However much I loved the smell of a real tree this year, it's already turned brittle, and its boughs are drooping under the weight of the ornaments, and it's not even Christmas yet. We usually keep our tree up until New Year's Day, but this one's out of here on Boxing Day. We kept it watered and did everything we could, but let's face it, it was a dead tree to begin with and nature must take its course. Plus, there's the fire hazard. I don't even like turning the lights on at night, but I do because they kind of mask how dead it's looking. But we live in an old wood-frame house that would go up like a tinderbox if there was a problem. We just don't want to deal with this issue next year, so we've made the decision to watch Hobby Lobby's sales. When we were over there the other evening, we saw a Desert Pine that was really beautiful and realistic.

Well, here it is nearly one in the afternoon and I'm still in bed. Time to get up.

Dogs Don't Go to Heaven!

Well, the Rapture didn't happen. Not that I'm surprised or anything, but damn! I had plans to be the first in line to loot the local Hobby Lobby. Shyte happens, man, and I guess I'll be dealing with the the Born Agains here for a while longer.

Case in point: tonight I saw a woman wearing a sweatshirt upon the front of which was printed, "A blood donor saved my life." Cool, thought I. I've been a regular donor. Then, when she walked past I saw that on the back of her shirt was some spiel about Jesus' blood saving her from hell. That's what it's like here--times about 40,000.

Anyway, think about this. In the rare chance that the Rapture does happen sometime, what would become of all those pets? I mean, around here, every pick-up with a "Cowboy up for Jesus" sticker on it also has a dog in the back. Here's a site that offers compassionate care for born again dogs that were foolish enough to believe that a life of loyalty and unconditional love would assure them of a place in Doggie Heaven.

Monday Stuff

Do you remember a little while back when I said Addios, Firefox? Well, I've said hello again. Seems they've gone back to the previous version or something, because it's now working perfectly, exactly as it did before they added all the crap that made it unusable on my laptop. I don't even pretend to understand all this browser crap, but I do know that they added automatic thises and thats without asking me, and the result was, well, I threw them over for Google Chrome. I like Chrome, and I'm keeping it, but I'm just more familiar with Firefox. Now, if I could just work out the issue with the latest Javascript not being compatible with Vista.

According to the website I linked to last week, the Rapture is slated to happen sometime within the next 12 hours (they claim it's going to take place before 11:47 pm CST). This is handy for me, because I haven't yet done my Christmas shopping, and it sure will make the lines at the stores shorter. In fact, I should be able to breeze in and out with no problems at all, being that I live in the buckle of the Bible Belt. I have to worry what's going to happen to known Born Again-run places like Hobby Lobby and Chic-fil-A, though. If I went and just took stuff, would it be looting? I mean, they're never coming back, so what's the harm?

Lauren is on her way to France today. Hope the pilot isn't a Born-Again. She'll be enjoying Christmas in Dijon and New Year's Eve in Zurich. Our kid, the jetsetter!

Every year on January 1st I post an entry called Best and Worst of the Year, and last night I started working on the list for 2009. Man, this has been a boring year where my blog entries are concerned. I'll be making a New Year's resolution to start writing better ones. It was a tough year for me, though, one of the toughest. I'm anticipating 2010 being much, much better. Especially considering the Rapture of the Bible Bangers today.

Perchance to Dream

Please, please, please???

The Rapture is Nigh!

Apparently, according to some people, The Rapture will take place sometime tomorrow, the 21st. I always wonder what these people will do with their crappy websites when their prophecies don't come true; I intend to check them out after midnight to find out.

Personally, I've been waiting for the Rapture for years. Perhaps when all of these radical fundamentals are out of here we can get this planet back into shape and start enjoying life free from imposed feelings of guilt and paranoia. Maybe, even, our local liquor stores can start staying open after 9:00. It's heady stuff, thinking about all of the things that would change here in the Bible Belt. And just imagine no more Fox news. If that isn't rapture I don't know what is.

It's amazing what people choose to believe, isn't it? Believing that millions of people around the world, both the living and the dead, will be caught up into the sky in plain sight of everyone is saner than believing the soul can enter life more than once? I mean, if the soul can enter a body once, how hard would it be to do so two or more times?

I've also wondered how "every eye shall see Him". When that was written, the world was believed to be flat. Where, exactly, will Jesus make his approach? If it's over the U.S. (which the Fundies seem to believe), how will the people in China see Him? Well, I guess that if Jesus can call up all those people, then He can work that little problem out. He must be very busy right now, making travel arrangements for all those people to come to his House for what will no doubt be the biggest Birthday Party that ever was.

On another note, I was a born-again for many years--does this mean that I have to go? What if I don't want to go? How can I experience "rapture" if I'm being abducted against my will? My only regret about this Rapture thing is that, according to this picture, it looks like Betty and Veronica will be leaving us. I guess Archie and Jughead didn't make the grade. Funny, too how they're all white people under 30, and the girls all have big breasts.

No wonder this world is so effed up. Look what people truly believe!

Hat tip to Badger.

A Very Stevie Saturday #3: Keith Richards Reads the Nativity

• Watch Stevie Riks' interview with the BBC here.
• Visit his website.
• See more of him on his YouTube channel.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks. In his words, "The more the merrrier!"

What a way to start the day!

What's better than waking up to hot coffee, orange juice, and Panera's pastry ring and soufflé? Hearing Nettl and Lauren in the living room discussing making a big pot of chili for dinner! Lauren's home for the weekend before leaving for France on Monday. She'll be spending Christmas and the New Year there, as well as Switzerland and Brittany.

What a way to start the day!

No Snow

I just checked the 10-day weather forecast and there's no snow in sight. I may as well still be in California. My first Christmas here spoiled me, you see. We got socked in by a snow and ice storm that was so bad, they closed down the interstate from Kansas to Texas. It was great! We all stayed indoors, sat at the bar, and enjoyed music and laughter together. I thought it would always be like that. We don't have a bar now either, but we still have each other!

Don't ask me where I found this picture; you know how Google image search is...

The Stockings Were Hung 'Round the Cottage With Care

If you remember, in our other house we had a big, beautiful fireplace and hearth. Well, it was one of those electric fireplaces that have no fire in them (basically just light bulbs refracting off of some weird junk in a rolling cannister). But the mantle and surround were gorgeous and we always enjoyed decorating it for the holidays.

Our cottage has no fireplace, so we've had to make do. Yesterday I came up with the idea of hanging our stockings on our bedroom doors, and it looks great! We're actually enjoying this house more, because a cottage can handle a little whimsy, where the other house was just too elegant for that kind of thing.

Nettl & Steph

Joel

Micah

Heather, Lauren & Nathan. These had to be hung on the laundry room

doors (in the wine room) because the kids no longer live at home.

Directly across hang two decorative stockings.

Here's a bonus picture of Nettl & the cat napping on the sofa.

Judge Not

Three times every day, rain or shine, a fellow who lives across the corner from us walks the same route. He leaves his house, crosses the corner and walks down our street to a certain house at the opposite end. He's always smoking a cigarette, he always coughs, and he always walks a little unsteadily. He's usually empty-handed, but sometimes he's taking something with him. One time it was a framed painting, one time a bag of things and yesterday it was a Rug Doctor. He returns in 15 or 20 minutes, goes back inside and doesn't  reappear unless it's to mow his lawn or sit on his porch, smoking.

Given the neighborhood, it's easy for me to suspect that he's a drug addict, but how can I really know? How can I judge? I try not to. And even if I'm correct, I don't know his circumstances. Maybe he's a vet who's gotten addicted through pain killers. Maybe he's helping out friends by giving them personal belongings to pawn. I can't know, and besides, it's really not my business.

Seems like everyone these days has set themselves up as judge and jury over other people's lives, and everyone's a hanging judge at that. Seldom do we experience leniency anymore, and giving each other the benefit of the doubt has flown out the window. Everyone assumes the worst, even of those we say we love. We've become stingy with the best parts of ourselves, those parts that set us apart from the beasts: grace, understanding, and empathy, and it's far easier to act from our fear than our reason. The truth is, everyone is just bloody terrified, thanks to television and other media, religion, and politics and as I've said before, there are only two emotions, love and fear; all others are the children of one of those two.

I don't quote biblical scripture much anymore, but Paul had some great things to say about love. Here's a comparative to ponder:

Love is patient and kind; 
(Fear is restless and mean)

Love is not jealous or boastful...
(fear is envious when it doesn't have what someone else has, and is egotistical when it does)

Love is not arrogant or rude.
(fear is conceited and 'in your face')

Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
(Fear is selfish; it is cantankerous and bitter)

Love does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right.
(fear applauds the bad behavior of others, and ridicules their good deeds)

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
(Fear is cynical, believes in nothing, makes no room for positivity, and has no tolerance)

Love never ends.
(Fear is not our soul's natural state; it can be transformed into love)

Next week I'm making a bunch of Christmas goodies to leave anonymously on the porches of certain neighbors: the chap I just described, Myisha, who works two jobs to support herself (she's the young woman who bought our bicycle last Fall), and the young couple and baby who live directly across the street. None of these people have much and, hopefully, it'll surprise them with a little Christmas cheer. It's not much, but it's a start.

Your Morning Smile

A friend sent me this link last night when I needed a reason to smile. Check it out; he does tricks! I miss my Fritz, although he was never as well-behaved as this little guy.

When Will It End?

I'm not whining, really I'm not. It's just that Mercury must be retrograde or something. As if giving myself a mild concussion last week wasn't enough, I cracked a bone in my finger last night. Typing this isn't easy, but sod it. If I put off doing things while I'm letting something heal, nothing would get done. The good news is, all of the concussion symptoms are gone and I didn't seem to do any real, irreversible damage. Unless, maybe, breaking my finger was evidence of my depth perception being affected. Nah, I've never had that.

Other than this, I'm getting a lot of work done for a client and last night my dreams were full of ideas for my musical (some are even usable). Yay, my creativity is returning! Now, if only I can get through the day without dropping something on my toe or running into a door. Glad we no longer have stairs.

I've Always Loved Mr. Bean

Family Traditions, be They Ever so Humble

I'm not really in the mood to write an entry today, but Nettl wrote a great one about one of our family's Christmas traditions. It's funny how something that gets burned into your clan's collective memory can seem insignificant until someone brings it up and talks about it. Why don't you head over to her blog, A Window to My Soul, and find out about the infamous Ugly Chicken? (You know you want to...)

I'm a Guest Poster at Last!

I've always wanted to be asked to write a guest post. Seems to me that if someone asks you, it means they like your writing enough to entrust their hit counts to you for a day or so. Well, that dream has come true for me because Sue over at Back Door Logic recently invited me to write a guest post for her great blog. A few weeks ago I gave Sue my Remarkable Women Bloggers Award. You really should go check her out (and not just because of my guest post). She has so much wisdom, and her story is a compelling one. She's quite exceptional! To read my post, click here.

The great drawing is by Sue's brother-in-law, Steve Dean.

A Very Stevie Saturday #2: Teach Yourself Lennon & McCartney

• Watch Stevie Riks' interview with the BBC here.
• Visit his website.
• See more of him on his YouTube channel.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks. In his words, "The more the merrrier!"

Friday Already?

What? I lost a couple of days this week. I know I was here. I have blog entries to prove it, but I just can't believe that it's already the weekend. I think it was Monday and Tuesday that I lost. Oh, well.

Tonight we're going to the annual Chamber Singers Christmas party that is being held at Dr. Lawlor's house. These parties are always nice. They remind me of my days with the symphony in California, except that the people aren't snobby. The best part is that they are attended solely by musicians and I'm able to talk shop, something I sorely miss throughout the year. Because yesterday afternoon and evening were a little rough health-wise, I'm going to lay kind of low today. I wait all year for this party and I refuse to either miss it, or feel like crap while I'm there.

Nettl got a huge box of copies of her book, So Faithful A Heart, delivered yesterday—all copies that people had ordered from her—so last night she sat at the table signing them. Go here if you're interested in ordering a copy, or just want to find out more about it.

Now I have to get cracking on mine. This bump on my noggin really set me back...

Wherever We Are, it's Damned Cold

When it gets as cold as it's been the past week, it's easy to find all of the air leaks in an old house. Last night it got down to 4° f, and my feet found every cold spot. I have to say though, for an 80 year-old house, it's more airtight than the new-construction house we lived in before moving. All the same, I had to put a rolled up blanket at the foot of the front door, and our big bed pillows up against the window seat in the bedroom.

As I sit here, cozy in my bed, I watch people outside, walking or biking to school with their parka hoods tied up tight. It's a clear day, with blue skies holding only a few wisps of clouds. If not for the barren trees, it could be spring or summer. The thermometer, however, tells me that it's now 19°. No snow in the forecast. It's supposed to get as high as 61° on Sunday... a heatwave!

That's the funny thing about this state. We're too far north to be the South (although maps say otherwise), and we're too far south to be considered the North. Likewise, we're too far west to be considered the Midwest, and we're too far east to be considered the Southwest. Most people think we're part of the Midwest, but the midwest ends at the southern border of Kansas. As someone who's from southern California, I have a hard time thinking of this as a Southwestern state. Wiki places us as a south-central state, which rings true with me. All of this ambiguity is played out in our weather patterns.

Oh well, I have things to do today so I'd better get to them. I've venturing out to the store; I haven't had a headache for 24 hours, and I'm not feeling particularly "goofy" in the head either. And my brain hasn't stuttered once while writing this! Yeah, I think I can manage the half-mile trek to the store.

Thinking-Impaired Creep

I think I'm okay until I find myself doing something that I know better than to do... and until I attempt a sentence like that one and am not sure if it came out all right. (Why isn't there a contraction for "am not"? What would it be, am'nt?) It's not until I do something like I did last night that I'm pret-ty sure that I shouldn't attempt driving for a little while.

I consider myself to be web savvy. I'm a web designer after all, and I've been hanging out in the ether since before it was call The Web (my first online experience was in 1989). I know that a blue, underlined word or phrase is a link, and that a the word "Report" (in blue and underlined) means that you can report an offense. Why then did I think that if I clicked it I would be taken to a list of reports made against someone? Have I ever seen that to be the case? No. Why did I click it? Why should I even care? Now I feel like a creep.

I did what I could to fix the problem by sending an emergency email to the site's support department, confessing what I did. I didn't tell them that I have a concussion though; I didin't think think that I was a thinking-impaired creep. (See that last sentence??? That's what I'm talking about! I've been doing that a lot in the last couple of days!) Trying again: I didn't want them to think that I was a thinking-impaired creep.

I feel better today though. No headache so far, and I'm drinking coffee with no nausea. I slept well AND I showed the cat who's boss this morning. It's a good day. I've been working my sudoku puzzles to keep my thinking strong; not sure if it's working though.

Cat Wants Out, In, Out, In

Every morning the cat and I go through the same routine: she goes to the front door employing the meow I recognize as demanding, "I want to go outside!" If I try to ignore it, even if for only a couple of seconds mind you, or if I hiss at her or tell her no, she starts clawing the chair, ripping up the tassel that hangs from the doorknob, and jingling the bells that decorate the door. When I finally give in, get up, and open the door, she sticks her head out looking around, and plops her hairy ass down. She'd do that for several minutes if I let her and all of the heat inside the house would escape. Then she looks up at me as if I'm supposed to do something about the freezing weather just for her. If I push her outside, she stands howling to get back in and if I don't, the routine continues on and on ad nauseum. Invariably I have to get up several times, and in my perturbation I trip over my laptop's power cord, ram my toe into the end of the bed, and nearly kill myself on the desk chair. Right now, with this concussion, my vision isn't so great when I first wake up and I feel a bit too disoriented to play this game.

Why do cats do this!?

This evening I will pass the critical 72-hour point since I played head-butt with a corner on the antique clock. I'm still not feeling great and that kind of worries me, but really, what can I do?

No medical insurance + no money =

welcome to the American Dream.

See that part that projects out from the clock? That's what clocked me. It, however, seems no worse for the wear. The worse part is the intermittent nausea that nothing, not even my trusty Zantac or Tagamet, fixes. At least it could snow while I'm sitting here in this bed. Outside, it looks like it should snow, but all we're getting is a mournful drizzle.

And now the cat's out there yowling to be let in. Sigh.

Our Christmas Cottage

Lynette took these pictures to post on her blog, and because I don't feel up to taking new ones (and because these are so pretty), I've decided to post them too.

No presents under the tree yet, but that will come in time.
(That's clock that clocked me!)

A bowl of "sugared" fruit & gilded pine
cones on the table by the front door.

Festive bookcase.

There's an elf in the kitchen!

Boink!

Wow, I have a mild concussion! As a kid I wanted one--isn't that silly? Other kids got them, but not me. Now that I have one, I don't like it very much.

On Saturday evening we decorated our Christmas tree and as I was putting on the lights, I ran my head into the corner of the big antique wall clock. I saw stars and had to sit down because I got dizzy. Then it passed--outside of a headache--and we continued decorating. I had a hard time sleeping, and was nauseas, but yesterday I decorated the front porch, bought groceries, and cooked a full-on Viennese dinner for a dinner party. Sleeping last night was really difficult and today I'm staying in bed. The nausea is still there--Tagamet and Rolaids didn't even touch it--so I'm going to take a nap as soon as I post this.

Oh, lucky me! Bleagh.