Merry Ho Ho Ho--and a Bah to you too...

Don't know what you get your honey for Christmas? Don't be looking here for any ideas.

It's not that I don't love the holidays. I do I do! I love tinsel and glitter and the smell of [real] pine (the fake stuff, not so much). I just got back from the supermarket and my nose is twitching because I spent a full five minutes with it buried in the evergreen wreath display. I didn't buy anything; I just soaked up smells.

I love wrapping gifts, making like Martha with the matching paper and ribbon. See--this is from a couple of years ago:
This year, though, I'm eschewing all attempts at gift-giving jollity. I refuse to participate in that Times are Tough so Look Happy That I Bought You Toilet Paper--and stuck a fuckin' bow on it. I will not indulge in an orgy of fake bling exchanges. If I can't trade the real stuff with my nearest and dearest--well, then I won't.

I come from a family mired in giftgiving bullshit. Did I say that nicely enough? My sister, bless her little heart, loves to give presents and she will give them to you whether you want them or not. I'm not sure why she loves to give presents. What's the exchange there for her? It's not that she treasures hunting for the perfect gift, because more often than not, unless she's been given a list (which her kids learned to do when they could barely write), she will give something that she likes without a thought that you would not be caught dead in it. And it's not that she's found that perfect something for you on vacation last year and tucked it away till the holidays. If she did, she can't find it. And if she can find it, she is pleased to tell you she can't remember what it is. This is, one might say, passive-aggressive gift giving honed to a fine art.

Consequently and as a result as well--I tend to view gift giving as a chore that causeth me to break out in hives. If I were, that is, a hive-y sort of person; which I'm not (although I do have a few sneezing type allergies). Thus, this year I am declaring that The Economy Is Too Bad for me to even consider gifting others (you like gifting as a verb? how about toileting as a verb?). And next year? Perhaps I'll still be recovering from this year.

News bulletin: I had just about put the period on that last sentence when my doorbell did ring and who should appear but a friend bearing a frothy golden beribboned package. Well, shit--.

Thanksgiving 2008

Everyone seems to be doing Gratitude Posts this Thanksgiving, so what the hell--I'll give it a shot.

I'm grateful for the post-modern broken home where being together as a family is still on everyone's agenda.
The boys and their father....

The daughters-in-law, who may look serious at the moment I took this, but it was a break in the non-stop laughter and talk.

And the mother-in-law in the mirror.











The granddaughter building a magnificent gingerbread house with Aunt Julie...








Oh, and the pecan pie (among others...)

Happy Halloween 2008

We have waited for this day. Our costumes are ready.

The Devil Dog waits for the leetle children to come trick or treating.

Instead, this is the day that the rains came down...

and we are left with this

...to deal with on our own. Not the Devil Dog, because chocolate is poison to dogs....but the Witch. She will have to deal with the detritus of Halloween 2008. Now.

Why I Hate National Holidays...

...because they make me feel inadequate. They point up the wide gulf between what my life is and how other midlife women are spending the day. Actually, there was never a point in my life when I liked national holidays. When I was a freelancer, it always seemed as if I had a deadline the day after the holiday, which meant that I got to spend said holiday bowed over my keyboard, rather than celebrating with my fellow Amuricans. Now that I'm deadlineless and actually could fire up the barbie (if I hadn't sold it at the yard sale a couple of weeks ago), I have no one to share the flippin' steak with. If you recall, on the Fourth of July I had my own private, personal barbecue. But ya know, that gets old by Labor Day. So today when I was at the supermarket, surrounded by hoards of people buying beer and hotdogs and cupcakes and chips, oh the chips, I studiously minded my own business and eschewed any festive food. And I worked at not falling into the Slough of Despond--oh woe, oh me.

Today I spent in my studio creating great works of art. That means I spread a plastic cloth on the dining room table and brought out my various and sundry bits and pieces, pencils and paints. What I'm learning--okay, I've learned it, but I keep hoping it will change--is that I like to work small and I like to work with pencils and I like to do swoooping shapes of color and I have grand ideas that rarely come to fruition. Mainly I suspect it's because I don't trust myself.

Do you really think Sarah Palin is palming her grandson off as her son? I'd like to know how she expects to parent her children while on the campaign trail. That doesn't seem to be very good for her family's values, does it? I dunno; I think McCain's VP choice is gonna blow up in his face. Today, he was touting her greater executive experience, compared to Obama, and he listed all the things she has managed, ending with the PTA.

A note to my disaffected readers: If you're going to write political comments, please do so without:

1. any ad hominem attacks
2. resorting to canned talking points
3. insulting the intelligence or integrity of ANY of the candidates involved. The parties themselves--be my guest and have at it with them. As organized religion is in matters of spirituality, the political parties are the root of all evil in matters of government.

Roses For Sale...Love To Buy

The scene at my local supermarket was unbelievable tonight. The aisles were jampacked at 6:15 with men lined up to buy identical bouquets of long-stemmed red roses. Complete with tissue, baby's breath, and a fern or two. At the supermarket. Just down from the meat and across the aisle from the lettuce.

This is romance? This is love? This is necessary?

Hi, honey, I'm home...I love you...here's your roses....what's for dinner?

I don't get this holiday at all. Never did, not even in my most absurdly in love moments. The only time I really remember enjoying Valentine's Day was in grade school when I got to make the classroom box that all our Valentines would go in. I was the diva of crepe paper then and created the most fantastic orgies of hearts and ruffles and shiny stuff and more ruffles, all very tasteful, mind you, but still over-the-top. But the actual exchanging of cards? That seemed a chore to me. All those little cards to sign my name to. All those weeny envelopes to lick. It was obvious to me even back then that the holiday really had no meaning. It wasn't even a proper popularity contest, because we had to send a Valentine to everyone in the class.

The whole idea of Valentine's Day seems such an artificial construct to me. And the expectations that are loaded into it--well, they're just plain scary. I'd hate to be a guy on February 14th--talk about performance pressure...

But I'm not a guy, and I do love you--so here are some roses I picked. I grew them myself, and they smell real purty. Happy Valentine's Day.

How's About Some Cabbage & Apples?

It's Sunday and I'm in the kitchen with the Food Channel again. But yesterday I was there as well...and here's what I made
I'm calling it, in a streak of originality, Cabbage & Apple Side Dish. I made it to eat on it's own, but it would be terrific as a Thanksgiving dish. And it's cheap. And easy. And I made it up.

Here's what to do:

1. Chop 1 purple onion (nice color, doncha think?) and a couple of cloves garlic and brown them in some oil (I used walnut, but olive would do as well). I got them quite brown, some were actually crispy, but you don't have to do that. You can just saute them till they're limp or golden or however you like your onion/garlic mixture.
2. Add 2-3 T of butter (sweet, please, is there any other kind to cook with? d'oh?)
3. Cut up half a cabbage into chunks or slivers or however you want to slice 'em. Add to skillet (I did tell you to do this in a large skillet or dutch oven, didn't I). You can use any kind of cabbage. Mine was the frilly kind because--it just was.
4. Peel, core and slice a tart apple and mix it in with the whole thing. Do some salt and peppering, if you like. Cover the pot and stir occasionally. Oh, did I mention this should be on a medium fire?
5. Cook until the cabbage and the apples are limp. Serve. Eat.
6. This is an expandable recipe. Just add more of everything to feed more people. Mine provided a side dish for four (me and three more of me.).

Bonus Post: Miss Molly the Orange-haired Harlot

This is just gratis and, also, gratuitous. Molly in her Halloween costume. You may find it similar to last years, but trust me, there is a difference. This year she has a jingly cloth clown's neckthingie to go with her witches hat and hair. These photos, which may or may not be self-explanatory, are of wig as beard and wig on head. Also, just because I can (I think), I'm posting the short video I took of Molly in her costume. I, the director, am giving her multiple commands in the background. She, as you can see, is doing it her way.

And A Happy New year to you too....

L'shana tova. Etc. etc.

I am not, obviously, in temple, reading responsively and getting ready to cast my sins into the waters of--um, the American River. I am at home, in my office, at my computer, feeling only marginally guilty.

This is the first year since I've been back in California (was it only 1996 that I moved back?) that I haven't done the whole bit at the High Holydays. The whole bit meaning: spent some time during the month before reading and thinking and doing whatever to prepare for the New Year; then spending erev Rosh Hoshanah as well as THE TWO days of the holiday in synagogue; then going to a body of water to cast my sins with other similarly-observant people. Most often this all included family or friends. Never D, who is anti-religion, although he does enjoy eating the apples and honey which we serve so as to ensure a sweet year.

The first years I was back in LA, I went with my niece et al to their Conservative synagogue. It was okay, except that since most of the service is in Hebrew, which somehow I never learned beyond the alphabet (aleph, bet, gimel, daled....), the depth of my comprehension was somewhat, shall we say, limited. When we moved into the city, my mother and I joined a Reform Temple, which just happens to be the one, I'm not name-dropping or anything, where Eddie Fisher and Liz Taylor were married. Truthfully, if you're a Jew in LA and go to synagogue on the High Holydays, you'll probably run into a movie star or two, because as you know we run Hollywood and we're everywhere and the Holydays brings us out of the woodwork like, well, like whatever.

For the past two years, since I've been in Sacramento, I've had to go to services alone. This is every bit as woeful as it sounds. The Holydays are the time when Jews come out in mass and it's a big homecoming, how ya doing, look what I'm up to now. Which is meaningless if you know no one at the synagogue. Also, and I know this sounds somewhat anti-Semitic, but I've never found Jews particularly welcoming in the same way that good Christian ladies know how to make a person feel at home. So the past two years, I've made the necessary arrangements, donned my High Holyday finery (traditionally one's new fall outfit, which then one can sweat in because it is so f...in' hot), and traipsed off to services by myself. Where I more or less remained alone, except for last year when I fell in with a couple of converts who remained at heart good Christian ladies and remember how to do the Welcome Wagon thing.

This year I couldn't do it. I could make all sorts of excuses but the reality is that I couldn't face going to synagogue alone. I'm just starting not to feel like that Grecian Formula commercial--"Rejected!"--and I don't want to be inscribed in the Book of Life this year as some nebbishy, woeful loser.

So I'm staying home, eating my apples and honey by myself and hoping that this year may be sweeter. For you, too.

So quick quick quick...

...I have about thirtyfive seconds before I get called to dinner, and I just wanna say--

hey, I've missed you all. My computer doesn't work at my sister's house and my BIL is doing major geneology (or whatever retired people do) on his, so I haven't been able to post. I'm at Oldest Niece's now, waiting for the July 4th spread. Tomorrow AM I go back home, so look for sincere and rigorous posting after that.

Till then....smack a yankee doodle for me....!

Thanksgiving 2006

Me!!!!!
Originally uploaded by By Jane.

Me!!!!! Full of food. On the way home from our Thanksgiving meal with the Bs. We had grand plans this summer, W and I, to rent a cottage at the beach and all the families would come. But my family couldn't come and her family couldn't come, so we ended up Thanksgiving dinner for four at the Club they belong to. Actually, make that three, as W is sick. So D, J, and I had a nice meal and a nice glass of wine, and I didn't have to cook.

But I did...couldn't not, so I bought a turkey breast and cranberries and now we have stuff for leftovers. Should either of us ever want to eat again.