Disco Balls

It's here.

The last day of the year.

A time for reflection and a time for looking forward.

A moment to pause.

A moment to grieve, appreciate and celebrate.

A moment to plan and hope.

Have fun tonight, be safe, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Joy of Toys

I have a Christmas Eve tradition of taking the boys to a toy store to pick out gifts for each other.

The last two years we've spent Christmas in Austin, so their favorite toy store choice has been Toy Joy.

They carry things like Convert To Judaism Breath Spray, Jesus Bandages, 

Hannukah rubber ducks and lots of other crazy toys.

They carry everything goofy and funny.  

Bulging eyeball glasses, owl keychains, peanut erasers, Ugly dolls, etc.

This was something new I'd never seen before:

Japanese Imported Radioactive Rainbow Children!

Did you see anything strange this Christmas?

Any bizarre gifts given or received?

Merry Christmas

I can celebrate Christmas anywhere.

It's the people who matter.

Being with family and friends.

That's the most important part of Christmas.

What I'm going to miss most about my current job

Bringing Annie to work and playing with Aslan.

I think they might be stuck in this position.

Oh, dear.

To Rabbit or not to Rabbit, that is the question

I've had a hard time trying to decide what to get my boys for Christmas this year.

They haven't given me a wish list.

They seem to be having a hard time coming up with ideas.

I've come up with a few ideas...and given them all away to relatives.

And then my 8 yr old, Remy, came up with an idea.  A real DOOSEY.

He wants a rabbit.

He really, really, really wants a bunny rabbit for Christmas.

People have been weighing in.

They think it's a bad idea.

They say rabbits' cages smell.

They say they're a pain to clean up after.

But you know what, it's a good responsibility for Remy to take on.

And it'll be an adventure for us.

They're inexpensive.

They don't require shots or regular vet visits.

And we'll have to make sure we never let Annie have time with it.

Because I have a feeling Annie would like a rabbit for Christmas way more than Remy.

What the Smurf?!

I thought slavery was dead.

Boy, was I wrong.

My 8 yr old son has slaves.

He makes them grow crops, eat things, work, etc.

They're blue.

They're called SMURFS.

It's a game called Smurfs' Village.

These little guys are familiar to me from my childhood, 

and they seem to be making a comeback through a game app for the iPhone/iPad/iPod.

And, a new movie is coming out next summer called Smurf Happens 

.

 I'm not smurfing this up.  This is REAL. 

Who knew these little blue creatures were coming back?!

My Ullage Theory

So, I have a theory.

(Yes, I occasionally come up with theories.  Remember my Twilight Theory?)

I spend a lot of time thinking.

I'm more of an observer of life than a doer.

I recharge by being alone.

I'm an introvert.

And, wow, I'm way off subject now.

Anyway, my theory is involving ullage.

Ullage is one of my new words,

It's the word for the amount that falls short of filling a bottle.

The space between the liquid and the top.

Cool, huh?

Well, the other day I was filling out answers to one of those "Getting to know you better" memes on Facebook, and one of the questions was "Do you see the glass half-full or half-empty."

My answer was that most of the time I see the glass half-full.

And I really believe that.

I do see the positive sides of things MOST of the time.

But not always.

And this let me to think...I don't think I ever see anyone answer that question as "half-empty."

Yet, I know there are pessimistic people.

So, do we all lie to ourselves about being pessimistic?

Can we not see our own pessimism?

Is it something others must point out to us?

What percentage pessimistic do you have to qualify for in order to be labeled pessimistic?

Are there pessimistic intervention groups?

If you really evaluate yourself, are you optimistic or pessimistic?

How do you really approach your life?

How do you rate your Holy Communion Bread?

I love my father.

And by father, I mean my Dad.

Not the big man upstairs.

My Dad cracks me up. 

He's elderly, 80 years old, and he'll say anything.

I've posted about him many times before.

Yesterday we had lunch together.

And he was telling me that the bread he had during communion at his church was fabulous!

He said it was from "Panteries."

I eventually figured out he meant, "Panera's."

"Dad, how did you know it was from Panera's?" I asked.

"Oh, I asked."

So, apparently my dad enjoyed the Holy Communion Bread so much, 

he asked the minister where he got it.

I can only hope he waited until the Service was over to ask.

*   *   *   *   *


Also, he's waging an epic war against the electric company, 

although they may not be aware of it.  

He's determined not to use A/C or Heat...

to see how low he can get his bill...

constantly trying to outdo himself. 

This last month?  

His electric bill was around $26.
And despite the fact that we're hitting BELOW FREEZING at night now,

he still has not turned on his heat.

Being Dead is No Excuse

Once a week we have family dinner at my grandmother's house.

And by family, I mean, me and my boys, 

my mother and her husband, 

my elderly father 

and my grandmother.

And one week, I saw this book on my grandmother's counter:

Being Dead is No Excuse: The Official Southern Ladies Guide to Hosting the Perfect Funeral

Apparently polishing silver can be classified as "grief therapy" 

and, quite frankly, no one eats better than a bereaved southerner.  

I'm not sure whther to be amused...or horrified!

Well ok, I'm amused.

Because if you can't find humor in things, life is just painful and boring!!

Have you thought about what kind of funeral you want?

I know several people who are so claustrophobic that they do NOT want to be buried, but instead cremated. 

I love the idea of a New Orleans Funeral parade with jazz music, dancing and umbrella waving.  

Wow, this post is getting way too morbid. 

I found another book by this author called

Looks hilarious.