Monday, December 15, 2008

Crackin' nuts in Frisco

I am taking my daughter, older son and both of my parents to the Nutcracker tomorrow. Shhh. They think they're taking me. Ha ha! joke's on them!

Ok, not really. I'll be sandwiched in the backseat of the Toyota between brother and sister while my dad drives us down to the city. I imagine it might still be fun. I hope to take some pictures of the kids in their snazzy city outfits and then I hope to fix my Picasa and then I hope to post some new pictures.

I'm excited (!) (almost squee! excited) about mah boy seein' the Nutcracker for the first time. His sister's been prepping him for nigh on three years now, and now that he's five (house rules) he can experience the fantasticness that is the San Francisco Ballet in person. I think he mostly wants to go because the toy soldier army fires a cannon at the mouse king. I could be wrong.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Really not all that bad. Maybe even good.

Wow. That was....really lame. I'm sorry. Note to self: no half-drunk blogging after bad news from the dentist.

Instead, we will think of eggnog, mistletoe and holly berries. Christmas trees, Playmobil nativity sets and open fires. We will read The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Polar Express and The Gift of the Magi. We will listen to sentimental Christmas songs at night with only the tree lights on and we will warm our toes by the fire and we will remember the first Christmas we spent together as a couple and then as a family. So many Christmases and each one different but defined by the things that are the same. The first Christmas we spent together we were living in a small apartment and we saw no need to buy a tree for ourselves. A few days before Christmas I broke down and fashioned the ugliest tree ever out of an upside down tomato cage and hung it with tinsel and ornaments. We tacked our two stockings to the wall above the heater. I got a bottle of vodka in my stocking. Now, Christmas officially begins when the kids demand the Playmobil nativity set the weekend after Thanksgiving and ends the day after Christmas when I can't take the clutter any more and begin putting all the decorations and ornaments away.

Last year, I decided that I would skip Christmas this year altogether. We just wouldn't do it. None of it. I was so disgusted and stressed out and unhappy in the weeks leading up to Christmas that I just couldn't see the joy in it anymore and figured that we would just avoid it in the future, like the plague or the mall. But here it is again and there's no running away from it. Might as well enjoy it.

I see a lot of spiked eggnog in the coming weeks.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Merry Fucking Christmas to you too, Great Depression of ought-8

Man, but it's been hard.

When it was just US watching our own budget things seemed dire enough but now with, oh, you know EVERYONE watching their economy as well as the nation's and planet's spiral ever downward things seem even worse. We've been trying to buckle down for the last year or so since our own finances went topsy-turvey and I've got to tell you--there's nothing more depressing than fantasizing about the swanky cocktail party of your dreams, you know, the one where you're wearing that vintage frock you fit into ages ago, updated with some fine Louboutins (what? just me?) passing out nibblets of chorizo-stuffed dates wrapped with prosciutto while your husband--outfitted in natty slacks and cashmere cardigan (omg! with a pipe!) shakes you and your guests a dirty martini (although, really, probably more of a Sidecar. Yum.) while in reality you're trying to decide if your 5 year old really need his cavities filled or if you can replace some of the draughty windows instead or maybe buy some firewood because the heater's broken. Poor kid. His teeth hurt. On the other hand, fillings only benefit him, while warmth benefits us all.

It will be interesting, this next little while. If not the dust bowl, then what? The closing of Detroit? Where will they go? Mexico? Canada? Will they come to California again? Will the mothers of dead babies breastfeed grown men?

How can we have let this happen? And how can I stop the draughts around my doors? How do we keep the cold out?

Merry Christmas, baby. All I need is what I've got, right here with me. I will snuggle my babies for warmth and feed my chickens and grow my garden and take care of what I have because that's all I have. It's enough. It's perfect.