and this is kim on christmas

It happens like clockwork, the merry meltdown. It happened this weekend, of course. This is what it feels like inside my head:

Good to get it over with, but always surprised when it shows up (Steve, however, is never surprised).

I’ll be ok in a few days, and ready to move on. In the meantime, if you want something more organized, check out this very cool calendar application I am loving from Swiss Miss. Warning, it does have red in it. But no dancing Elvis cows, bicycling Santas or robot angels. And that’s a good thing, at least for the moment.

and then it changes

Ever notice how you think a day will be all right, and then about 10:30 am it turns on you? And by 2:00 you might as well call in sick, and start over?

And then the next day, you think it’s going to be a tough one, full of mountains and molehills and rude people and long lines, and general unpleasant barriers to progress? But by 9:00 am, you think to yourself, “Hey, this is kind of a nice day.”

Sometimes it’s a good thing when what you planned doesn’t work out, know what I mean?

Poster from Paper Jam Press. Inspiration from  Internet Therapy.

PS. Wrote this yesterday around noon. Posted it last night around 9:00 pm. At 10:30 we took Toby to UCD Emergency, because it appeared he was having a seizure, or ingested too much of the beach towel that was outside protecting the plants from the freeze, or both. As I was sitting in the backseat of the car with my hacking, dooling, lethargic dog, I was thinking how quickly my day had turned, again. And Steve said, “wow, we are so lucky to have this vet hospital so close to us, and so lucky that they know us.”  I don’t know that it’s a good thing that they have files on us for 5 different animals. But the visit was good, the diagnosis unclear, but somewhat comforting, and the vet? So hot! Cute and gentle, and smart and he had an Irish accent and two first names. Anyway, Toby is resting, and we’re collecting the remnants of towel outside. If you have any experience with dog seizures, let me know.  It was still a good day.

the gifts that keep giving back (at least to me)

Does this happen to anyone else?

You think of something PERFECT for someone, which gets you all excited.  You research, you ponder, and you order it online. And you check it off the list. Excitement again (yes, pathetic when it comes to excitement over check lists).  Then you forget about it. Then you get the online notification that it’s been shipped, and you remember it. Excited thrice.

Then you forget about it.

Then the box comes. Oh boy, I forgot about that…how cool is that! Excited, excited again and again (that would be x4).

And then you put it away. And forget about it.

Then unearth it from the pile to wrap it. I haven’t got to this part yet, but the feeling is familiar, so we’ll be excited x5.

And then it goes under the tree, and if Toby behaves himself, it won’t need to be re-wrapped. And you’ll forget about it.

Until it’s unearthed again, and you can’t even remember what it is until they unwrap.

And then a small piece of it peeks through, and you remember.

And it’s just as exciting as it was the first time.

Please tell me I am the not the only one who forgets and then remembers how much fun this is.

I just have to say this one thing…

I am home feeling sickly and have impaired judgment. But I have been tracking Tiger this week, and have to tell you what I think. And then I will be done, I promise.

So I have been thinking lots of things. My thinking arc went like this:

• Wow, I hope he’s not hurt.
• Hmmm, something’s weird.  She knocked out the back windows with a golf club and pulled him out of an Escalade? Huh.
• You think he was playing around, really? Nah, not Tiger. Not going there…
• Ok, so he had a fling. It’s between him and his wife. Leave it alone. Do not click on that story.
• Why are the tabloids out to get him? Why would they want to keep digging at him? Leave it alone, I tell you (I believe I also twittered that).
• More than one fling? Ouch. Tiger, c’mon. Can’t be true.
• Oh. Can be true. Maybe.
• Disappointed. Deeply.  Reminds me of my breakup with the image of John Edwards.
• Writing imaginary blog post about hero worship and why we should keep our heroes closer to the ground. Not so far to fall, y’know.
• More than four flings? Crap. That means he really is a jerk. Or something.
• Ask Steve to call his dad to ask what he thinks. Vince says he’s surprised it didn’t happen before. I’m surprised he’s not surprised.
• Alex asks us to ban all Tiger talk from the dinner table. I try to comply. I fail.
• I can’t figure it out. It seems, just stupid. And I always thought he was strategic. What do I know anyway?
• Funny how we think we know someone, just because we admire them.
• More than six flings? And with her? And her?And her?
• Twitter entry about making a drinking game every time a new alleged mistress is reveal. Double shots if she used to work at Hooters.
• Stupid, stupid, stupid.
• Gross.
• And now Tiger Woods, you who have made the sport of golf cool, you who represented cool….you are a fool.
• Sigh.

And that’s all I have to say. Done.

kim’s holiday gift guide | flu-forward fashion

Thoughtful. Clever. Practical. Available here. Now, excuse me while I go wipe down my keyboard, door handles, shopping carts, and anything else you may have touched. Oh, and Happy Holidays. Or perhaps, Hanky Holidays?

good morning, can we just stay in all day?

Had a slow, but somewhat productive weekend. Finished the Christmas shopping, except for stockings….and that included going to the fabric store for three pieces of cheap (but easily washable) fabric as decoy Christmas tree skirts for Toby the oh-isn’t-this-cool-that-they-have-brought-a-tree-inside-so-now-I-don’t-have-to go-outside-to-pee dog.  We watched Four Christmases, and Blades of Glory and the two other people who live here watched Angels and Demons. We made gingerbread, and two fires, and played music. Crafts were crafted. Knitting happened. Books read. Bananagrams played. The tree is up and lit, but not yet decorated, and we might take all week for that….

And snow is in the forecast for today. Snow! I kept waking up last night, hoping that was snow on the neighbor’s roof. But alas, only solar panels. It doesn’t really feel like snow, but I am going to hope.

For the moment, sitting in the dark, with the Christmas tree lights….and a cozy quilt. I really, really could stay here all day.

Just like this.

P.S. You’ll notice that despite the presence of TWO Plumber M.D. trucks in front of my house on Friday afternoon, that my list does not include “enjoyed having a dishwasher again.” We do have a new faucet, and not one that requires the dumping of the bucket underneath the sink twice a day, so that’s good. But old dishwasher, which was a fabulous dish drying rack in it’s golden years, is gone, and the new one, which was my consolation prize for not getting a remodeled kitchen, and was the only criteria I insisted on for having Christmas here this year, doesn’t fit. The tile we put in years ago made it impossible. We have a lovely alcove, perfect for the recycling bins and no dish rack. And a good excuse for buying Mrs. Meyers Lemon Verbena dish soap…. sigh.

fall dining

moving into winter, i suppose

Backyard tree, the one in the corner…last Friday morning.

And last night…

I guess the other corner didn’t get the memo.

Happy Friday!

dude, that’s a sick look you have going there

Steve has had the flu all week. Yes, that flu. The one I was prepared for, with three new pair of pajamas, a pile of magazines and plenty of Tivo’d Oprah. The pajamas are all very cute, especially the ones with the rubber duckies on the pants. I’ve been ready, I tell you. And he is the one who gets it. Really?

He is drinking mint tea and eating toast, but Steve just doesn’t get the finer points of a good illness.

At lunch I suggested he might want to take a shower and change out of his robot pj bottoms and Tigger sweatshirt. He admitted he had been in them for three days. I thought a change would be good…for both of us.

After work I stopped for disinfectant wipes,  many cans of soup, more bread for toast, 7 Up, and tapioca pudding. And a magazine. GQ with Clint Eastwood on the cover (“Bad Ass of the Year”). When I walked in the house Alex said, “Mom, I don’t think I have ever seen him this bad before.”

I noted concern. This is why.

Here, let me show you the entire look. Keep in mind, this man is a professional graphic designer. He is paid for creating images and brands. And he’s really good at it. I promised him I wouldn’t show his face, so he could keep some dignity about the whole issue.

I believe if he met up with Clint the Bad Ass, Clint would be scared. Very scared.

same old, same old

Kate and Alex can count on a few of the same gifts every  Christmas. PJs on Christmas Eve, Bath and Body Works stuff, and a small piece of jewelery. Hopefully a few surprises too.  But the whole holiday shebang starts with the ornaments.

Each year we’ve given them an ornament that represents something about their year…the sport or instrument they were playing, where we went on vacation, what role they had in the Davis Children’s Nutcracker* (which explains the Chinese Dancer and, well, the nutcrackers) or just something goofy (which explains the Elvis cow). We always give it to them when we decorate the tree. One year Steve was in San Francisco on a photo shoot right before Christmas and brought home several for each of them (I think they mostly represented Toby).  Of course, they’ve also given ornaments to each other. They each have their own boxes of ornaments, and Kate’s is now overflowing…I’m guessing she has about 30 of her own. They start the tree with their decorations, and we fill in where there is room.

I honestly don’t know if they mean as much to them as they do to me,  if they will be always-treasures, or if they will want to start fresh with their own families (or maybe some of both, sending the Elvis cow to the Christmas Tree Ornament Rest Home).

Last year at World Market I tried to look at a (fragile) glass camera for Kate and started an avalanche of glass ornaments, crashing to the floor. I am afraid to go near their ornament display this year, and was a little anxious about it.

So I was pretty darned excited when I found the PERFECT ornaments at my favorite store, nestware (in my building!). I can’t tell you what they are, since both girls check here….but they are absolutely perfect. This year we’ll decorate without Kate, but the second she gets home, the girls will have their boxes to open.

Let the holidays begin!

*Tuesday, December 11, 2001
‘Nutcracker’ goes buggy
By Jeff Hudson/Enterprise staff writer
Eek, mom!! There are bugs! In “The Nutcracker”!
OK, Tchaikovsky didn’t put them there. But don’t call the exterminator. The new characters in this year’s rendition of the annual “Davis Children’s Nutcracker” are really quite endearing. Think “cute as a bug.” (The Bugs are taking the place of the Treats, who get a rest this year.)
Alex Barbaria, a 7-year-old who attends Pioneer Elementary School, is a caterpillar.
“It’s fun going out on stage. And I like my costume. I get to wiggle! The most fun is doing my dance,” Alex said.