Keeping the Winter at Bay

I feel myself fizzling a bit with the daily music thing. SO, I’m abandoning it! See? It’s just that easy! I’m now putting myself (and my family and that includes the dogs and let’s also throw lentils into the mix because this with eleven Ritz crackers is so amazing) before the music! (This is totally the cold medicine talking. I NEVER do well with cold medicine! I’m talking to you, phenylephrine!) ((By the way, Trader Joe’s doesn’t classify the Madras Lentil as vegetarian, and I’m assuming it’s because it is created with equipment that sometimes touches fish. A few months back, I touched a hedgehog.))

On a whim, I recently bought this, even though I do not wear tank tops, nor do I like to sparkle. I still haven’t worn it, because I have no idea HOW to wear it. Also, I fear it’s too small, but I’ve recently been told that I wear my clothing too big, so I’m in a complete Whirlpool of Terror (and Zero Self Awareness) right now. I have a fresh haircut, and today I smell like Quantum Leap.

I listened to this song three times in a row this morning. Apparently, it’s on my iPod three times in a row, due to forgetfulness and alphabetization. I didn’t mind the repeats at all.

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I made a shepherd’s pie. Something (or other) about flocks and night.

Cooking separate meals for everyone in the family is starting to get to me—mainly because at least one of the three people for whom I’m cooking has actually been known to cry at the table because she has no interest in even tasting what I’ve prepared. When that happens, I feel as if time has been wasted.

This evening I made a shepherd’s pie and biscuits. Two people ate shepherd’s pie and biscuits. One person ate part of a biscuit and less than three bites of shepherd’s pie. (That person will go to bed without a snack.) I ate biscuits, and am getting ready to dig into some roasted flaxseed and a pomegranate, which I may or may not share with the child who barely touched her dinner. Sometimes I wonder if Harper is on the road to vegetarianism. A friend of mine has a daughter who hasn’t eaten meat since she was six. I believe she’s seventeen now. Some people (most people, really) just aren’t designed to eat meat.

Anyway.

I have a cold. It’s the sort of cold that provides daggers for the throat and haze for the brain and an on and off increase in body temperature. Sadly, I had no time for this cold today. Instead, I drove back and forth to school four times, to Target once, and am probably getting ready to pick up a book at the library sometime in the next hour. Then again, I’m currently wearing my pajama pants, and those pajama pants are covered in cows who are sleeping on moons. It is my firm belief that one should not leave the house wearing pajama pants—especially if the pants in question might stir someone to look up and whisper “Hey, diddle diddle.”

The Christmas tree saga continues. This afternoon I hung the wreath that my mother made for our family. Immediately, Scout began to sing.

Speaking of singing, today’s Christmas tune is brought to you by David Mead. His latest album was released on November 15th, and his voice affects me the way Paul Simon’s voice affects me. It’s a warm Saturday morning waffle on a rainy day kind of voice. Nothing but good.

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Appius and Virginia and The Stealing of Thunder

Today was a bit tiresome for a number of reasons. BUT, beneath the dreck was a delicious lunch with friends. AND, this evening I’m taking time to figure out how to draw an amiable stack of pancakes and some jaunty jelly.

A few days back, my friend Summer asked the following:

“If you could pick any word or phrase to describe ‘life, as you know it currently’ and/or what you want or need in the coming year, what would the word or phrase be?”

I didn’t answer the question at the time, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I believe I want 2012 to be cool, tall, vulnerable, and luscious. How about you? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Our milkman gave me a Christmas card this morning. Also, some milk.

Holiday Knitting Update: I finished the mitts for Meredith’s teacher and am now working on the second of three owl cozies that need to be completely done by the end of next week. I will then make a pair of fingerless mitts for Harper’s teacher. Knitting with deadlines drives me bananas, so today I did what anyone would do in this situation. I started a cashmere scarf for myself. It’s red.

This evening my kids have piano lessons, and tomorrow Harper has basketball practice and I have a PTO meeting as well as a social engagement. On Wednesday, I’m going to physical therapy, volunteering in Meredith’s classroom, and having lunch with a friend. The only thing written on the calendar for Thursday is Eggplant Parmesan 282. I’m not quite sure what the 282 is for, but I’m sure it will occur to me on Friday, which is the day I volunteer in Harper’s class, Meredith’s class, and attend a book sale with  Tempe. Saturday is Tuba Christmas, but I believe I’ll skip it this year to take the girls down to my folks’ house to bake Christmas cookies.

I need to wash towels. This morning I had to dry off with a washcloth, and it was a bit unpleasant.

I recently discovered that I love roasted flax seeds. Bonus: They keep my eyes from shriveling. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Are there penguins in Palestine?

I shared this tune with you a few years back on the morning that John Green met his demise in our front yard. We never did replace Mr. Green. (Can one actually replace a fallen hero—a hero who had suffered stab wounds on TWO separate evenings? I think not.)

Because she was starting to smell like a dog, yesterday we took Scout to the groomer.

Scout (aka "Christmas Princess")

She is now looking less like Dave Navarro and more like the subject of a Margaret Keane painting. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The way to live is Celebrate and Give.

It’s not necessarily a Christmas tune, and I won’t even begin to address the opening of the box. With that said, it’s XTC. When I was in high school, I recorded an XTC concert onto a VHS tape. I loaned it to a guy named Jason W. who kept “forgetting” to bring it back to me. He was a year older than me, and when he walked down the aisle at graduation (with my tape still at his house), I remember shaking my head and thinking, “There goes my XTC.” That was twenty four years ago. Because of Facebook, I now know that Jason is the owner of a really great salon in St. Louis. Meanwhile, I spend a lot of time listening to XTC albums and I’ll be spending part of today processing a chapter titled Eyelids, which is filled with photographs of animals who have eyeliddy things going on. The world keeps spinning and there are an infinite number of paths and Robert Fulghum and Richard Bach to all and good night.

Here’s another one of my favorites.

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He takes me out dancin’ every Saturday night.

Well, hello there!

This morning I logged onto Facebook, and I watched this, and it reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas songs (originally performed by Tom Waits), so I decided to put together a musical Advent calendar for you. That’s how I’m going to try to keep NaBloPoMo going! I’m giving you a song (and often more than that) every day until Christmas! Maybe!

When Jeff and I lived in Nashville, we saw Neko Case performing outside the Grand Ole Opry. It was something like 193 degrees outside, and Ms. Case was feeling the heat. She tried to end her set early. Apparently, the people in charge reminded her that she had signed on for more time. SO, she returned to the stage wearing only a (transparent) bra and her skirt. The people in charge quickly flipped off the lights and the microphone, and Ms. Case was finished. Jeff and I later saw her packing up her beat up van in the parking lot. She was once again wearing her clothes.

None of this changes the fact that she has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.

Evidence with bonus knitting content:

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Ripened Fruit that Falls Tomorrow

You guys, I planned on doing something HUGE for the end of NaBloPoMo. BUT, here I sit at 5:24, and I just took what I tend to call my Monster Migraine Pill, and I have a meeting to go to in a little over an hour, and although the roast in the crock pot will feed my family, it’s not going to feed me, so I need to find a can of soup or something because I’m fancy like that. (I just talked to Jeff on the phone, and I think I’m slurring my words. BUT, I haven’t had a headache like this in MONTHS, so I’m not going to get too bummed out about it. Bedtime is in less than five hours!)

Have I thanked you lately for sticking with me? I remember the first time I opened comments on my website. It was something like two years in, and I thought, “Eh, let’s see if anyone’s out there.” (It was terrifying.) BUT, two people were out there! And now there’s more than two, and I actually e-mail back and forth with several of you, and holy smokes: Carroll, you commented nearly every single day this month!

I love all but one of my Fluid Pudding readers. And there’s a really good chance you’re not that one.

Thank you for hanging out with me this month. I’m going to try to extend the daily posting thing for awhile, but now that I’ve typed that out loud, we all know I’ll probably lay an egg. (Thank God I’m free range.)

This song shuffled as I drove home this morning, and it made me very happy.

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