Collections, Acquisition, Gifts

We didn't have to deal with many gifts this year. And by 'deal' I mean find a place for them, write 'thank you' notes for them, etc. Does that seem crass and ungrateful? In the past, I collected things or was interested in things and these collections inspired gifts. Same for my husband and I as a couple and him separately. Same for our parents (whose effects we had to dispose of from 2002-2011).

This year we allowed each other to buy things 'for Christmas.' My husband got a sports coat and, I think, a book. I got a page-a-day French word and phrase calendar. I'm going to order a gadget from Amazon eventually. He bought me a beautiful winter scarf and I bought him an expensive tie (which he'd admired). Gift exchange (and disposing or saving wrapping) took minutes. We received gifts from my niece by mail. An interesting book (mentioned in an earlier entry), a rocks glass with an etching of an NYC map and some comestibles (mentioned in an earlier entry as well). We've mostly consumed the edibles. I've read about half the book and enjoyed the pictures of aging people. The glass awaits a Manhattan on the rocks for me or a guest. The truth is we have lots of fancy glassware some on display (as shown here) and some tucked away in a small bar, a console and cabinets.

All this stuff has to be maintained. Dusted, sorted, occasionally given away. The little cart above contains a remnant of an old collection of deco barware. It is a drinks pump with little glasses. It's never been used by us. It's just decoration. We have other barware decorating some bookshelves. This particular piece was found by my sister who had my dad buy it for us. Collections are like that. People add to them. Folks used to give me bendable figures with some regularity. Also, above you see several Welcome Kitties. My husband saw one in a bar, ordered one off eBay and then acquired a few others. So it goes. One year a friend sent a Welcome Kitty Christmas ornament after seeing a video of the Welcome Kitties welcoming with their paws. It usually sits with its animated buddies but currently is part of the Christmas decor with the only other glass ornaments we have. (We don't do a tree.)

Right now most surfaces have some of my Christmas (mostly bendable) figures collection. (See also the barware on this shelf.)

And books. Oh. My. Books. We buy them, we get them as gifts. And we have trouble weaning the collection. (We did give away over a thousand before moving from our large house in 2008.)

The stuff. The 'collections.' Fun. But sometimes overwhelming. At one time or the other, I dabbled in collecting things besides bendables and barware. There were the old globes. There was the vintage toy collection. There was dabbling in fake food. I accumulated pastis pitchers for a party decoration. And then there's the glassware (we still have most of that). The collections don't seem to inspire gifts as much anymore.

Fortunately, we receive very few gifts at all. This year my last remaining aunt sent a 100 dollar bill in her Christmas card. We decided that we would go hear a band and instead of our usual twenty-dollar tip share the C note with them. And we did. We got our money's worth. We explained the tip to the bandleader and how we felt spending it this way gave us the most possible psychic income.

The Tyranny and Joy of Stuff

Does it count if I *think* about blogging Holidaily? I started to write about 'stuff' and gifts and all that a few days ago. I decided to go back in the archives and read about, well, stuff from the past. This was fun but led to no new writing. This picture is of one section of a vitrine table in our living room. It has some old bendable toys in it. (Including a pipe cleaner version of me, created by a friend.) I collected bendables very actively for a while and decorated my office with them when I worked. Our Christmas decorations are, to a large extent, bendable Christmas figures. Santas, mostly, but also a few reindeer, snowmen, trees and such.

I've been working on my financial life. And that is boring. I have to prepare certain tax documents in January and have been running those numbers. I am preparing a new budget for the new year so that we can bust that budget by eating out too much, traveling too much, giving away too much and, of course, buying too many books.

We really don't want too much stuff. It mostly gets in the way. Of course, I do enjoy looking at all the little Santas and such this time of year and enjoying the pretty glassware and such all the time. But, of course, there is the dusting. You have to dust stuff.

That's all I've got. Tomorrow I'm going to talk about gifts. Gifts given. Gifts gotten. Successes. Maybe some failures.

Holiday Resolutions

That's FFP last year posing with the Santa at Headliners Christmas party.

I used to be a big proponent of New Year's Resolutions. It just seemed so hopeful to be able to stop on a dime and change your life in some way (or ten or more ways) by just promising it to yourself. But the post-resolution depression soon set in as you realized there was nothing about January 1 that promised change more than any other day. In fact, a day when everyone lies around recovering from too much food, drink and revelry while watching football? Yeah, a day best lost to the wasted bucket rather than a new beginning.

In the past I'm pretty sure I bailed on New Year's Resolutions and made Holiday Resolutions. Some time prior to Thanksgiving but after all the stores were already hawking holiday stuff and arguing over whether to be open on Thanksgiving Day I decided what I would do in the period stretching out to the day after New Year's Day. I can't find that old list, but it probably was something like the following.

• Don't go to any big box store or mall between a few weeks before Thanksgiving until a few days into the new year. (I don't visit these places often and in fact made a run to Costco, the only place like this I frequently visit, a couple of weeks ago. I'm stocked on toilet paper and cheese and such.)
• Do go to any independent stores you like and buy yourself or your spouse anything that your whims dictate. (FFP is hard to buy for, but I usually come up with something from a store I can walk to that is one of a kind and independent. I don't buy presents for anyone else.)
• Do not feel bad about sending money to relatives. They enjoy spending it. The adults will pretend to the kids that you picked out a perfect gift. 
• Do not dress up in Santa-themed or elf-themed costumes.
• Do not cook a turkey or a ham, but graciously eat those cooked by others. 
• Do not worry that you are properly addressing everyone's religious needs during this season. They will take care of themselves.
• Do not decorate the apartment for the holiday unless you get those bendable, posable collectibles out of storage. (See below.)
• Do enjoy the decorations of others especially those we can walk to and the magnificent displays at hotels. 
• Do eat out as much as you like and enjoy the company of others. Have fried oysters at Threadgill's for Christmas dinner if you like.
• See a lot of movies both in the theaters and streaming and on DVDs.
• Go to all the Christmas parties that you please and don't feel bad about not giving one.

The Worlds We Build

[Photo was taken last year of some of my eclectic Christmas decor.]

I was playing tennis this morning with some ladies. They are three of the Saturday regulars for a round robin doubles group. (We play one set with each partner.) One of the ladies told me one time that her granddaughter had called her 'random.' I found this hilarious. Because this woman has built a tight little world for herself that is anything but random. She tries to schedule tennis every Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday. She will concede to play California or Australian doubles if she gets to stay on the doubles side. If it's a particularly fine day, she will play a set of singles with me. On Wednesday and Friday or days when tennis doesn't work out, she exercises in the gym, maybe walks back to the house. She plays Bridge at particular times in there somewhere, too. At home, she meticulously records shows on her VCR and watches them in chronological order with the result that she's watching stuff that is years old. She has a little 'nest' set up where she watches shows. She goes to bed before nine every night. Eleven months a year she works in the warehouse for the Settlement Home Garage Sale on Mondays. She and her husband go out with their children a few times a month. Anyway, her life is programmed and West Austin and some towns surrounding Austin are her unrandom world most of the time. She and her husband used to take lots of exotic vacations and they did recently take the grown up grandchildren on a cruise in the Mediterranean. But there is just nothing unpredictable or disruptive about her life. Which made me laugh when she told me what her grandchild had called her.

But, of course, we are all pretty predictable and mostly try to build our worlds so there aren't surprises, at least no unhappy ones. We know what activities we enjoy and schedule them. I certainly find a lot of joy in my little world, predictable though it is.

Every once in a while, though, you want to venture into someone else's realm. Or just introduce some surprise and chance into yours. Moving downtown has changed our focus, shaken us up a bit. There is something different about going to a Christmas party we usually attend at a law office at 8th and Congress but walking there from home. And then walking to the Long Center for the "Nutcracker." (Which we also always attend but this is the first time at that venue.) And then, while people wait for valet parkers, we walk back across the lake to Taste for a late night meal and drink, visiting with people who also live in the neighborhood.

Our new world isn't so different from the old, but we are inventing some new rituals. However, I think that today I will maybe, just maybe, go look for those bendable posable Christmas guys like in the picture and make this condo look a little like my old world.

Memory Fault

In the computer biz you can get a memory fault when some bad memory has an incorrect check digit which means some other bits that are on should be off or vice versa. I think anyway. I worked with computers (rather than using one as now) years ago. Well six years. And when I retired I'd gotten too far from things such as memory faults. Except for my own, of course.

Anyway, Jette gave us a Holidailies writing prompt for today and it is "Your most vivid memory from last year's holiday season." I remembered next to nothing about Christmas last year. So...I resorted to my blog to reset some check bits. I was being daily with the Holidailies last year so there were some of my memories there, forgotten by me. Actually it is more like getting an archive that was pushed off to tape than correcting memory, but that is old school. Disk space is SO cheap now. Whatever.

Last year I wasn't in a festive mood, I don't guess. I'm not one to decorate for Christmas anyway, and I hadn't done a thing. A friend of mine who has been going through an extreme health crisis since early spring 2006 wanted to come over and have a short visit and drink coffee and 'put together a jigsaw puzzle.' (Something my mom used to like to do and she'd join in on when she came over.) So...I cleaned out a storage area under the (one) staircase in our old house and pulled out Christmas stuff. Mostly I have bendable posable Christmas theme figures. (See above for my favorites, Jack Skellington from "Nightmare Before Christmas.") I scrambled around, decorating the big meda room in our old house. For the last time as it turns out. I found a pretty simple 500-piece jigsaw with a Christmas theme and made a place to work on it. My friend came over and we put together a lot of it, sipped coffee and talked about old times until she was tired.

If I could remember things, this would be my most vivid holiday memory from last season. My friend is doing some better these days. She had a checkup over the week of Thanksgiving and I have to find out about that. This year, the condo is devoid of decoration, save a small pile of holiday cards we've already received. But there is still time. Also, if I could remember things, I would have finished this post and got it recorded on Holidailies yesterday when I started it. Visiting with three elderly relatives and my dad made me forgetful. So I guess my perfect holiday attendance is already spoiled although I know there are some rules rattling around the venerable Holidailies allowing 'catch ups' as long as they are some hours apart.

No Nightmares, Maybe Just a Bad Dream or Two

I have been downsizing while not saying too much about it. And that brought me to a dilemma mentioned here. I decided that I could keep the Christmas-themed bendable figures. The others, unless they were very old or special, had to be gotten rid of somehow. FFP had decided to let go of a box of National Lampoons and a couple of boxes of research material for something he was interested in at one time. This necessitated getting into the under the stairs storage area and going through stuff. I needed to do something to acknowledge Christmas since a friend was coming by to honor the jigsaw puzzle tradition and our parents would hopefully visit for the opening of gifts. I pulled almost everything out from the under the stairs storage. Including the Christmas stuff which includes these three Jack Skellington figures shown in the pictue. (Reminder to self: I need to rent that movie. "Nightmare Before Christmas" that is.) I put out most of the Christmas decor I have in our media room. It does look oddly festive although there are no lights nor candles.

I actually sent FFP to the thrift store with sacks and sacks of bendables. Including some MOC (mint on card). They took his Lampoons, too. (A friend took the research material.) He made two trips and, on the second, said that there were Toy Story bendies out for sale from the first trip. I also pulled out a few figures for my nephews in Colorado and a bunch for the toy box at my dad's. A lot of them were new with tags and all. I have already used those to create a stocking for my dad's little neighbor (who is four) when he wanted to give him something. I understand that my dad gave it to him just before he was off with his parents on a trip to Grandma's. I got a stocking out of the heavily marked-down goods at the grocery, added some candy and put in bendies of dogs and other animals.

The result was many cubic feet of 'stuff' that are no longer in the house. Yes, I still have a couple of cubic feet of Christmas decorations that I plan to store in the condo storage unit. I have another box of my favorites and some really old figures that I haven't given up. But a lot of stuff is gone. Or at my dad's and queued up to be gone. I also found a few boxes of what we call 'parts is parts.' Old wires, cables, computer accessories (mice, speakers) and such. I Freecycled (through a local Yahoo group) a couple of cubic feet of stuff.

So I've shed a few things and I've decorated this house. Maybe for the last time since we are hoping to sell next year. I don't really have any nightmares before Christmas but I had a few disturbing dreams last night about India (as a result of watching "The Namesake" on DVD last night). (Reminder to self: read the book after you find it. Oh, there it is on top of the filing cabinet waiting to be cataloged. Just as I thought.) In the bright light of day, I'm having a few bad feelings, too. I spoke to my dad this morning and he was breathless from retrieving his newspaper. He said that his amaryllis plant had to be propped up because the blossoms made it top-heavy and he made this sound like a big effort. When I offered to pick him up for our Christmas outing tomorrow, he said that he would come over here "if he felt like doing it at all." Dad is putting off going to some doctors until after the holiday. I'm letting him because I think that there is little they can do. He's already been to the doctor about one problem and this confirmed my feelings. He has been repeatedly treated for the other problem, always with mixed results and interim suffering. Ah, well, 2008 might be a year of sitting in waiting rooms or waiting on my dad if things like trips to the curb for the paper get too overwhelming. I don't expect nightmares, I'm an optimist. But I'm having a bad day dream or two.

I Didn't Report on Austin Film Festival

And I should have. Reported on the festival, that is. It was a great festival. I've never made a film (unless you count little thirty second or less bits with the point and shoot digital camera), written for film or anything of the kind. I did once consider making stop action films with my bendable, posable collection like these delightful Fido Dido figures. (Photo taken in office long ago.) But no...I'm a dilettante of filmdom. Still, we went to the Austin Film and heard how it was done and saw the results. We went to some interesting panels. We saw some great movies and some that made us go 'hmmm.' We enjoyed getting out and going to the venues. (We always set aside other social things and dedicate ourselves to being film dilettantes.) While downtown we explored old and new haunts.

We enjoyed seeing Dan Petrie, Jr. again. (We visited with him when he came to town for an event the AFF put on in August.) He said 'hello' during the Film and Food benefit and said how delighted he was to be presenting one of the festival's awards. To Glenn Gordon Caron, I believe. FFP and I failed to pull the trigger on getting luncheon tickets and it was sold out so we didn't see the awards presented this year. We enjoyed Dan's discussions and antics in a couple of panels. He took the fest's title of one panel, 'Shot of Inspiration,' literally and showed up with a bottle and tons of little mouthwash cups. The bottle was empty before he got to us, but we still thought it was funny as he diligently tried to pour a little 'shot' for the scores of panel attendees.

I'm not a screenwriter. I'm an admitted dilettante and live by the motto you see on this page: "Pretending to write but really just blogging." But I learned a lot about screen writing from the panelists. Gems like "Don't let method close your mind." And techniques like making your story into a simple myth-like tale and constantly referring to that structure. A friend of mine who has done some plays by retelling the stories in operas has used that idea in his own way.

In one of these panels someone said that introducing a problem and solving it in the same sequence is a waste of time. Now that's a mistake I don't make in blogging. I have introduced tons of problems: too much stuff, the inability to focus, the distractions from what's important. And I've solved virtually nothing! Oh, but in the movies the resolution must come.

One of the panelists advised the attendees to "write a movie you want to see that only you can write." Now, this blog is a blog that only yours truly could bring to life. That's for sure. Whether I really want to see it or reread it later. Well, that's another matter.

What else did I learn from the accomplished writers who were panelists at this premier screen writing festival? Hmm...well, don't use ellipses in screen plays. And in that 'Shot of Inspiration' deal I learned that inspiration probably doesn't come from a bottle, but that it often comes when we aren't thinking about writing. But I knew that in my heart of hearts. Oh, and someone advised that you should write a scene that you know isn't going to be in the movie just to get to know your characters. Maybe that's why I blog but also write on my computer in a 'mostly for my eyes only' journal.

Some of the writers were strong proponents of the written outline. That often cited thing about "characters taking over and doing and saying things you didn't expect?" The experts said it happens and it's a good thing. On writer's block someone said (or quoted someone as saying): "The creative mind flees from its obligations." Ain't it the truth?

I always have trouble, when trying to write fiction with dialog. (That would make it difficult to write plays and movies, huh?) Aline Brosh McKenna (who adapted The Devil Wears Prada for the screen) said "If the story is working, then the dialog is obvious." Someone suggested just writing dialog without character names and not in screenplay format and then format and then cut, cut, cut. Nicholas Kazan advised looking at a speech and figuring out its purpose. And then cutting everything that didn't serve the purpose.

Someone in a seminar claimed that David Mamet said that in a scene where someone is going off to war, everyone will have them come in and say "I'm going off to war." But, he allegedly added, "Few can resist having them say 'I once had a kitten.'"

I liked this advice, too: "The viewer is happy to come in right in the middle of the action." Or this, similar gem: "Writing a scene is like going to a party...arrive late, leave early."

Someone said that the greatest invention in script writing was multi-colored post-it notes. (Trademark 3m.) He (it was a he I think) said use a different color for each character. Your characters, we learned, have to be put through something.

When you are all done? Don't send it to the big talent agents. "They won't even recycle the paper." But in the "Groundbreaking TV" panel we found out that "Groundbreaking things happen when you are being ignored."

So what to make of all this? Is it just me transcribing notes? And recycling old pictures? You bet. Get used to it because I've signed up (mentally at least) to post every day in November and December.

Tennis and Stuff

I took up tennis after I got out of college. Before that my entire experience with the sport was a tennis racket my sister used in a college PE course and some discarded balls and a garage door. I'd wanted to take it as a PE course in college myself, but I never managed to get in and dispensed with college PE by taking gymnastics, field hockey, folk dancing and badminton. (PE was required back then. Do they still do that?) I hadn't every played any organized sport save a season of softball when I was eight or nine.

But after college, I was commuting to my job in Dallas with a co-worker from my old college town, Denton. I was taking a graduate course at night or on Saturday or something and living in a ramshackle apartment I'd shared with college friends but was now renting more or less by myself. My friend and co-worker was a good tennis player and showed me how to hit a forehand and a backhand. Using the practice wall at the college and that old racquet, I started playing.

Without ever having a lesson, I built up some simple skill and started hitting for fun with friends. When I moved to Dallas, I got serious playing with co-workers and with a retired guy I met in a bar. I bought another racquet, but it was a discount wooden model (wood was it then) and cost about five bucks. When I moved to Austin, I found a few people to play with and, at some point, organized a USTA team. I was so into tennis! I played, I bought clothes and equipment. People gave me tennis-themed knick-knacks. I coveted all things tennis. I bought my first color TV in 1977 because I noticed in a store that the ball in a tennis match showed up so much better in color.

I finally realized having a team was a lot of work to give other people an opportunity to play tennis. I just played in parks with friends. I had several long-term games where I'd meet a friend in the park at 6:30 or 7, play an hour or an hour and a half and go home, shower and go to work. Or I'd meet a friend early on a Sunday morning and play at the park and then maybe go to a joint for Mexican breakfast. I watched TV coverage intensely. When we got our first VCR, my big focus was recording tennis matches. (That's why I have all these as-yet-undiscarded VHS tapes of twenty-year-old McEnroe matches and such. Yes, they are deteriorated. But I'm still having trouble tossing them.) I used to have an elaborate Breakfast at Wimbledon party, complete with multiple TVs, pastry, coffee, champagne, strawberries and cream and tennis and Wimby-themed door prizes.

I finally decided that tennis was too complicated and made me buy too much stuff. Not to mention inspiring others to give me tennis-themed pens, posters, bookmarks, etc. I still buy new shoes now and then and have my tennis racket restrung or regripped. I have an oversize Wilson Hammer of composite something and it is about ten years old. I bought a backpack tennis bag I intend to keep for a long time. I have to buy balls, of course. If I find a case at Costco, I'll buy them and use them for a year since other people pop cans all the time in my games. I have three pairs of shorts I like to play tennis in and some polo shirts. I have to get a new cap now and then due to profuse sweating. My current favorite is grimy and rusting from a metal button in the crown. I bought some wonderful new socks the other day but only after I had discovered severe wear in the ones that were used over and over, for tennis and gym. These new high tech ones are reserved for tennis now.

In 2000, we joined a tennis club. I didn't immediately find a lot of games at the club and they restrict guests to two visits a month. But gradually I became a substitute for regular fun doubles games that had been going on for years and for teams organized by others. Now I play two or three times a week. I'd like to play more singles but so it goes. There is a singles championship coming up and maybe I'll sign up for that in the duffer division. (Actually they are ranked by USTA levels.)

I've greatly reduced the 'stuff' and bother surrounding my tennis passion, though. There are some towels, head bands and wrist bands in my bag and my spare glasses with the clip on sun glasses and a spare hat in case I forget one. I try to have a new can of balls at ready in case it's my turn. I give away the used balls mostly although I have some in the trunk in a ball hopper in case I'm inspired to practice my serve. Which I rarely am.

In going through my stuff I've found some tennis 'souvenirs' (other than those old tapes) and think maybe I'll offer them to the kids who run my club's tennis programs. Somewhere around here I have a Wilson T2000.

And the picture? (You still reading?) Well, it's a bendable posable figure of a tennis player. But, I think, maybe not one I own. Maybe it is one someone was selling on ebay. Then again, who knows? Because the boxes of bendable posable figures are still lurking under the stairs.

Tennis is still my passion. But I'm not so into the stuff of tennis anymore. Nor likely to organize a tennis event or give a tennis-themed party. Still, after I escape from the year of real estate heck, carefully timed for the year of world real estate crisis, I plan to try to make trips to each of the grand slam tennis tournaments (in London, Paris, Melbourne and New York). And, OK, maybe I'll bring back a little souvenir!

It Lurks Under the Stairs

One of the spots that I need to get to in the downsizing effort is a little 'under the stairs' storage we have in our storage room. We built FFP an office above the storage room in back of the garage some years ago. The whole room is sort of storage (filing cabinets and shelves and flat files from the business, other stuff we store) but they made a door to access under the stairs for extra storage. Lurking in there are lots of things that need sorting. Among them are boxes of bendable, posable figures. I once collected them. Don't ask. When this picture was taken (2001), I had removed them from my office at work (yeah, I used to work) and stored them in a storage unit we had. The storage unit at the time had nothing else BUT these boxes. We'd rented it for my parents to migrate stuff to Austin they didn't want the movers handling and we had gotten all their stuff in a house. I'd put these boxes in the storage unit. But it seemed silly to keep the unit for some rubber toys with wires inside. So I moved them to that spot under the stairs. Since most of them have languished there except the Christmas-themed ones. I've trotted them out a few times for the holidays. I may have sorted and trimmed the contents, but I know that a few cubic feet of bendable, posable figures (yes, some Gumbys and Pokeys and lots of other themes) are under the stairs. Will I have the courage to attack this? Or, when I'm ready to move will I be tempted to put these in the tiny (43 square feet) storage unit at the condo?

Collections are sinister things, aren't they?

So...Where Have I Been?

Well, I don't know. I missed a day. Probably fallout from writing about not writing anything but the journal or maybe it was just fatigue from putting away Christmas or worrying about my dad's health or the dog's.

I piled all the Christmas decor on the dining room table before putting it away in boxes.

I'm feeling pretty good about it all this morning. Why? Because my dad said he was going to try to walk to the bottom of the driveway and get his own paper and wasn't whining for me to come over there and (1) help him get well; or (2) clean something up or do an errand that he didn't feel like. I don't mind doing for him. But it breaks my heart when he needs it.

So Christmas is put away and really, even between spending time on Dad and such I've gotten some things checked off my checklist. I handed some business stuff over to the CPA, did the 941, wrestled some of our financial stuff into line. The problem with these things is that they just need to be done again and again, day after day, year after year. But I made some progress in cleaning up my office. It would be hard for anyone to tell this, however. I know, though. I have a swath of clean work area. Although this is partly because I have given up resurrecting the dead laptop which sat there and the new one hasn't arrived.

And what about those resolutions? The ones I'm recycling from a couple of years ago? Well, next on the list is 'Find an Appropriate Volunteer Activity.' Right now I'd say 'driving seniors to appointments and doing errands for them.' Only they are our parental units. But still. I do it, I have the time for it and I think I do it well. Whatever.

It's time to use my 'free time' since my dad is feeling pretty independent this morning by getting some exercise. My old resolutions weren't too specific about the exercise thing. I probably need to set some real concrete goals about aerobic exercise and weight-lifting. But first one has to go to the gym. So yeah.

I Sit Here Alone

It's a weird day and a weird holiday. I'm sort of just sitting here, waiting for the mailman. Or waiting for it to be later when I have things I must do. The mailman may bring more cards. All the ones we've gotten so far I scattered around among our regular everyday tchotchkes in the living room. And, of course, I already scattered Christmas toys in the same spots. (That's Jack Skellington is from Nightmare Before Christmas so that counts, right?) I hope the mailman doesn't bring any cards that require that head-slapping "I shoulda sent them one" feeling because it's too late now, I think.

I went to my dad's today to get (yesterday's) mail in and today's newspaper. He had three Christmas cards but they were all from businesses. He also wanted me to empty the dishwasher. He had gotten it very full before using it. Good thing he has loads of dishes and flatware my mother left behind. My dad is ailing. We aren't sure why but he's in pain. The pain killers help but he doesn't feel like getting around much. He is making his own meals, though. But he's using a walker and that gives me pause.

Dad said he didn't need his shopping done for a 'day or two' but tomorrow is Christmas Eve so I peeked at his list. I went to a Randall's in his neighborhood and got a few things from the list (honey, bananas, dishwasher soap, eggs) concluding that I could provide other things from my larder (we buy giant things of raisins and cases of V8 juice at Costco and those were the other items). I bought him some new sponges, too.

I am going to make a Christmas Eve dinner early tomorrow evening. I doubt that my dad will feel like coming over but I'll deliver to him. I wanted dressing but didn't want to make it. I couldn't find any pre-made anywhere at Randall's but I ask and a guy went in the back of the deli and came out with some frozen. Fine. The store wasn't too crowded at this time, before ten on the eve of Christmas Eve, but I hope to avoid shopping from now until after Christmas. I bought a few staple things for us: ketchup, Worchestershire Sauce and cocktail sauce. I should have gotten lettuce and tomato and green onions. But FFP went by the store later himself and got these things. He got bananas, too. He thought we'd have too many when he saw I got some but said he'd give his parents some. I said that I had to take some to Dad. It seems we spend a lot of time grocery shopping now that we are doing it for five people in three households.

I did a short workout after dropping off the groceries. I talked to FFP on cells as he was leaving the club for his own trip to a different Randall's.

By the time our guests came, we were both cleaned up and I had set a time to go to some friends' house to get the final housesitting instructions. I've always wanted to take a trip on the holidays...not to have Christmas elsewhere but some 'real vacation'...like cruising through the Panama Canal. That's what our friends are doing. I don't think that will happen for a few years. It seems heartless to leave the old folks on Christmas. As it is, we are going to have to find some extra help for them when we do leave town.

So I'm waiting to go see about the house to sit. We gave our guests some impromptu sandwiches, coffee, soda and fruit and FFP took them to see "The Nutcracker." After I've taken care of the friends, I will see if Dad needs anything else. Later I will meet our guests and FFP for dinner at Fonda San Miguel which is all done up in holiday finery.

But right now I sit here all alone. The house is cool and the weather outside turning cloudy. I'm wearing a bright red wool sweater a friend gave me quite a few Christmases ago. I'm worrying about my dad. And I'm feeling decidedly unfestive. Which seems to have been my theme for Christmas 2006 and Holidailies.

Running Low on Spirit

This morning I was out playing tennis with my 'friends of a certain age.' I noticed one of them was wearing tennis socks with a little Santa embroidered on them.

"I miss my mom at Christmas," I said. "She would have had something like that. And a Santa shirt and earrings."

"My mother always used to cook all this stuff," she said. "She baked and cooked just everything. Of course, she didn't play tennis and Bridge."

My dad isn't feeling too good. Rather than call me yesterday, he contacted the doctor himself and even drove to the pharmacy drive-through to get prescriptions for an antibiotic and a pain killer. I asked why he didn't call me but he didn't have much of an explanation. He asked if I'd come over after tennis and get in his paper and mail. Which I did. He wouldn't let me do anything else for him, though. "I need to get up and do things for myself."

My spirits are waning.

Although I did have a nice meal out with some girlfriends last night. It's kind of a holiday tradition. We always pretend we won't exchange gifts either but we had some to exchange. I felt festive for a few minutes but maybe it was only the Zinfandel. And, at the time, I didn't know my dad wasn't feeling so hot.

My Colorado relatives are in the middle of a blizzard. Not as bad as 2003, they said. But my niece with the three boys said no one could get around unless they had a high clearance vehicle. Her six-year-old and four-year-old kids were building a snow 'mountain' in the front yard. They had twenty-four inches before drifting.

I am officially not hoping for snow to raise my spirits. A couple of days ago they were holding out the possibility of freezing precipitation for Austin around Christmas. That made my mother-in-law say they might not want to come over. I told FFP I was making a Christmas Eve dinner even if I had to deliver it to everyone. Now, with my dad feeling poorly I may have to do just that. And to think I put Christmas joy all over the house (see photo) mostly in the form of bendables.

There was a time not too long ago when I would have been happy and festive just to have some time off. Time to savor a cup of coffee and something to read. Time to play a game or put together a puzzle. I miss my mom. She'd make me do that. "Let's get out a puzzle," she'd say. "Get me a cup of coffee," she'd say. "And get out the Scrabble."

Bendable, Posable, Cheap and Funny

These guys are the cheapest of bendable posable figures. Probably bought them at some place like Oriental Trading for a few dollars a dozen. As labor costs soar even in the third world, cheap rubber toys with wires inside (for the bendable possibilities) have less and less detail. Some of my Santas have painted faces and boots...these have copped out with just the black belt and the white eyebrows, beard and fur. Nevertheless, even they amuse me. I grouped all these really cheap ones on a bookshelf which is newly bare due to downsizing.

Yes, I collect these figures. I have a lot of Christmas ones. I don't have the bears or candy canes offered on Oriental Trading this year. I'm trying to quit collecting. Really. But even in my downsizing frenzy, I haven't been able to face giving up this collection. Although they do pack away easily (they aren't very fragile and you just cram them in a box) I have about eight or ten cubic feet of bendable figures! Really. Still. This collection and my globe collection I think I'll keep. But I've got to keep these collections from growing. Put that down for one of my New Year's Resolutions. I am incredibly lame. The world is a mess and I'm worried about a collection of rubber things with wires inside. But it could be worse. I could collect expensive Christmas decor like elaborate nutcrackers or put out a light display that sucked thousands of dollars worth of electricity.

I think my decorations are humorous. In a way, they make me happy. So...why don't I feel festive?

What to Write About?

Today's duty to blog was a little frustrating. I thought about writing about how the mayor of Austin brought a friend along to his Mother Ginger performance who was the daughter of someone I went to high school with. I wasn't at the performance of "The Nutcracker" this afternoon, but FFP was there. He snapped this picture of the mayor ready to climb up in the giant skirt and perform. He called me from backstage and ask me if I remembered this gal from high school. I remembered her. As one of the people much cooler than I was in high school. (Of course, those numbers were legion.) But that topic didn't seem to go anywhere.

I thought about taking the writing prompt from Holidailies: "Tell us your best road-trip story." Three road trips popped into my head. The 1966 adventure to California and back in a VW bug with no AC accompanied by my sister (who was five years older and married and, in fact, organized the trip so she could visit her husband who was at a California Air Force base). The early seventies trip to the Texas coast without money or the good sense to start home in time to get back to work. And the 2005 road trip that FFP and I took...by far the longest trip in time and car miles of our marriage.That last one is pretty well-documented here.

But no, road trips didn't do it.

I thought about a mundane focus. Like the way the peppermint soap that John Paul DeJoria gave us made the whole master suite smell like peppermint. The soap was part of a thank you gift for "getting" to be Mother Ginger last Sunday. But that seemed to be all there was to that story. Room smells like peppermint (and presumably we are enjoying the soap and we smell like peppermint, too). Not much more to it.

I thought about writing about how I do NOT collect Santas. You might think I do. I distributed around the living areas of our house all my Christmas decorations. The preponderance of them are bendable, posable Christmas figures. Most of them are Santa Claus although there are reindeer, elves, snowmen, penquins and a couple of Christmas trees. But I don't collect Santas. Or even Christmas stuff. I collect bendable, posable, collectible figures. It happens that many of the figures represent holidays. Although they are not, by far, the preponderance of my collection. Maybe twenty percent. But, no, this topic didn't seem to have enough staying power to make an entire entry either.

OK. I considered talking about my rare trip to the grocery store. You see, FFP does almost all the grocery shopping. He always has, but even more lately since he's taken over shopping for his mother and that means he is at the store anyway. My dad usually does his own shopping but he is staying home just now recovering from a medical procedure and wanted me to shop. I had an abnormally hard time executing this short list: bananas, milk, bacon, egg nog, V8, cookies. The Randall's near his place was having a grand 'reopening.' I was hungry and I ended up having samples of steak, brisket (with Oaxacan barbeque sauce), a spicy cheese spread on a cracker and a hot three-cheese sandwich. However, I stuck to Dad's list except for getting a box of Clementines I split with him. But, yeah, grocery shopping...not a whole entry.

I thought about writing about my frustration trying to shop for a new laptop. I thought about writing about what I've been reading. But I just couldn't get into it.

In the end...I threw everything in here because I really couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't come up with a coherent reason for this entry to exist. But here it is.