Scary Stamps for the Holidays

Maybe it's just me, but I've always found nutcrakers a little...unappealing...shall we say. We took our annual Christmas post office treck this morning to purchase stamps for holiday mass mailing. And let me tell you, this year's collection was a little frightening.

I brought the young man along to pick out his fave stamps, and we ended up bringing home the scariest nutcrackers I've ever seen. They look like Bavarian killers, bearing some serious teeth, enabled to take some names and rip off your limbs. Just look at them. Do they give you that warm, compassionate "home for the holidays" feeling? I think not.

A fair compromise was buying only one set of nutcrackers and going with the sweet Mother & Child and Celebration holiday stamps for the other sets. I saved the nutcrackers for my husband's side of the family.

Getting A Little TOO Creative

It's always extra special to receive a gift that someone put their heart, soul and sweat into. Especially if it's also very creative. Here's an idea that was floating around our office today. Let's see if you can guess what these beautiful, super crafty slippers are made from.

Anyone who guesses correctly wins a pair! You get to make them.

Celebrating the Writing Goddess

It looked like something was on fire as the sun was trying to get up this morning. Clouds were racing across the sky, wind blowing all around, signaling a change coming. Child pulled me out the door to have a look at a fleeting double rainbow making a brief appearance in the light orange north. There must be something special about this day.

I know! It's December 11, the day the Sarasota Writing Goddess was born. This local writer's byline can be seen in Style each month. She can make anyone come alive in print, touching on the most subtle and deeply interesting parts of their being in a way that makes you want to read and read and read. You'll always enjoy a thoughtful perspective, meshed with unexpected metaphors and clever comparisons, when you barge in her office for a chat. And she's a great friend. Happy Birthday, Ruth Lando.

Pungent Products 3

Here's another pungent product to look out for: Evergreen scented oil for room fragrance.

We made a choice a few years ago to stop feeding the chopping-of-innocent-Christmas-trees industry and go with a fake Frasier fir (which is probably much more environmentally destructive in retrospect...can't imagine the petroleum that went into that baby).

Anyway, we do miss the smell of a fresh piney scent in the house around the holidays. So I picked up Evergreen scented oil for the oil burner. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I spilled nearly half of the bottle it or if it's the fakeness of the smell itself. But all family members, including the dog, are about to puke.

The Bad Me

I never intended for Gropius to be a confession board, and in general, I'm a pretty nice and thoughtful person--not a whole lot to confess. But today, I was bad. Really bad. Bad in a way that makes me embarrassed, and somehow I feel that if I share it with you and you also think I'm bad, maybe I'll get what I deserve...other people thinking I'm bad. How do you like that, psychologist and coach readers? You could write me up as a case study.

So I finally finished this certification program today I've been working on for almost 2 years. Not a huge deal, but it involved a pretty decent time commitment and some driving. After being in class all day on a Saturday and driving back the long way (by mistake), I was tired but excited--sooo excited--to be done.

I pulled up in the driveway to see a big, fat home improvement husband had undertaken with the thought of pleasing me. But I hated it. It was one of those perfect communications about something that needed to be done. In the discussion stage, we each knew the other understood exactly what we meant by the word "trellis," only we didn't.

(As in I totally didn't mean that I envisioned two gigantic unpainted wooden structures drilled to the front of the house.)

So I freaked out and was really mean about it. I apologized a bunch but it still didn't take out the meanness of my initial really bad reaction. Have you ever done something like this? How did you redeem yourself?

Feel free to tell me what an ass I am in the comment section. I deserve it.

Why, yes, I do think you're a raving lunatic.

Have you ever had someone call your house after they haven't been in the picture for 2 1/2 years, demanding to speak with a certain family member?

And call back 8 times within a 30 minute period?

And leave all sorts of messages about how much they've changed and how normal they are?

Unfortunately I can answer these questions in the affirmative. My two thoughts for this person:

1. Why yes, I do think you're a raving lunatic.
2. Your behavior is certainly not doing anything to convince me otherwise.

A Solemn Occasion at Joey D's

One of the best Bradentucky places to wind down with the fam after a long day is Joey D's, a locally-owned pizza joint right on U.S. 41 just north of Cortez. Great waitstaff, veggie and carnivorous food choices and always good 'ole, regular working folks in your company.

Tonight we ordered the worst artery-clogging offenders and played a few rounds of "A Solemn Occasion." Ever play this game? It's a family heirloom, passed down through generations on my father's side. We'll just use Gropius and Eddie to explain how you do it:

Gropius stares at Eddie and says in the most serious, monotone manner possible, "It's a solemn occasion, brother Eddie. It's a solemn occasion." And Eddie--staring back with utmost solemn intensity--gravely replies, "Yes it is, brother Gropius. Yes it is."

The two players must say the words very solemnly, extremely slowly, and utterly deliberately. The losing player is the one who cannot help but crack even a slight smile. I've found that it's much easier to play the Gropius part. The Eddie player almost always loses.

So, we challenge you to a game! It's perfect for play-fighting with co-workers, the opening exchange during a performance appraisal, or procrastinating on daily mundane tasks that really count. You just need a partner willing to go there. (Good luck.) We would start to worry about you if you tried it with a mirror.