Ho. Ho. Ho.

Yeah, yeah, I know it's been a LONG time since I've posted anything (not that anyone reads my blog much but who's bitter about that?) but I've been busy.  Doing stuff.  And getting all exciteapated for Christmas (Or not).  So much so that yesterday, which was December 22, I actually ventured forth into the flood waters to buy a tree since nobody else in this family wanted to get off their sorry butts and get one although they were all, "Waaaa, It's not Christmas without a tree, waaaa!"


Knowing that we have a dog who is a bit of a chewer, I was a bit apprehensive about getting a full-size tree because I was worried that Gracie Lou would have a field day with the ornaments and branches on the bottom so MY solution was to buy a small 3' tree that would go on a table and out of harms reach:

So I brung it home, had TheManTheMyth bring it into the house and put up on the table and I decorated it just so and I think it looks pretty cute but Thing 1 was all, "It's so Ghetto" and I'm all, "how's the tree YOU bought, brought home and decorated, huh?  Huh?  That's what I thought so shaddup!" because I am FULL of the Christmas spirit.


Early into our marriage, TheManTheMyth and I suffered a devastating fire right before Christmas and we were in no mood for celebrating and decided to skip on a tree.  But plans changed and we were tapped to host Christmas dinner so on Christmas morning, TheManTheMyth went out to scrounge up a tree and managed to find the only one left behind at the local tree lot.  We slapped some ornaments on it but it still lacked a tree topper.  The empty Coors Light can was my idea and gave the tree a little je ne ce quois and was pretty apropos for our family.

So, my oldest seester and her family arrive tonight to spend the Christmas holidays here in wet and soggy Southern California.  In our family, Christmas Eve is the Big Night because that was my dad's birthday.  We won't be eating turkey or ham or a roast, no sirree.  OUR traditional Christmas Eve main course is breaded pork chops because that was my dad's favorite and that was what Gramma cooked for him.  Sister Bippy uses Gramma's big-ass cast-iron frying pan and wears Gramma's apron while she makes the pork chops.  As my niece Sarah says in her Minnie Mouse voice, "It's a Family Tradition" and woe to anyone who suggests something different for a change. 

One year, Gramma thought maybe we would like something more "traditional" and roasted a turkey instead (and didn't warn us).  THAT went over like like a lead balloon as we all kind of sat there stunned, going all, "What. The. Heck?" and she never made that mistake again.

I'm about 98% done with my Christmas shopping and 0% done with my wrapping so I'd best get my butt in gear.

I know you all are anxiously awaiting my 2nd Annual Brag-n-Gag Family Newsletter but I must wait until next week so that I have more tidbits to include.  It'll be a good one, believe you me.

Perkins Family Christmas Portrait circa somewhere between 1969 and 1971

 

 Merry Christmas and Dog Bless Us, Everyone!
 

Here we go

For the last few days, I've had the most god-awful headaches.  Like I've been on one of those "Spin and puke" rides at 3rd rate carnivals.  I'm fine when I get up in the morning and I'm fine during my morning walk but around 10:00am, the headache kicks in and I feel like hammered shit and I don't know why.

Speaking of morning walks, I take Gracie Lou to the same place, the El Dorado Regional Park, Section III.  We like Section III because there's rarely anyone there early in the morning (read: other dogs since Gracie is positive that every dog wants to eat her) and it's quiet and peaceful (except for the screaming of the hawks and honking of the geese) and we get a good power walk in.  One of the down sides to Section III, though, is that it is frequently closed because both "Dexter" and "CSI Miami" like to film there and they have some weird thing about keeping anyone not associated with the film crew from invading the shoot and maybe trying to get themselves on camera.  Trust me, they have nothing to worry about with me.  I just want to get my dog walked and get over to Del Taco for my morning crack.  You go about your business and I'll go about mine and we'll be fine.  But nooooooo.  I've been stopped by more security guards and their answer to the age old question of, "Do you know who I am" is invariably, "Yes.  You're the person who HAS TO LEAVE."


Anyhoo.  This week, there was yet another film crew setting up an above ground swimming pool, of all things, in one of the parking lots and I'm all, "A swimming pool?  With bleachers on each side?  And a deck? In the parking lot?  But for why?"


The next morning, the film crew was in full force.  There were trailers lined up and down the road, wardrobe trailers, catering trailers, equipment trailers, trailers filled with all sorts of lighting and electrical stuff, people wandering around in bathrobes and I notice that the pool has a ruler thingy on the sides and there's a big sign advertising a Diving Doggies competition and then I notice all the cases of Bud Light being unloaded and I'm all, "Here we go!"  Especially since nobody In Charge forced me from the premises (again).  Suckers.


A diving doggies Bud Light commercial.  Starring the Splash Dogs.  Who I was all excited to see.  But who Gracie was convinced would try to eat her.  And let them know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going down without a fight.


Yeah, guess who disrupted the shoot?  


And guess who was asked to "Move along now, ma'am.  And your little dog, too!"

There we went.












 

You're welcome. I think.

Today, I received a letter in the mail.  It was addressed to me (my first and last name...spelled correctly) "and family."  Well I love getting real life mail that doesn't include a demand for payment so I excitedly opened it and it was a thank you letter.  A very lovely thank you letter and I must share it with everyone:

Dear Kelly & family,

A very belated Thank you! for the delicious brunch you and all your helpers prepared, (Thanks for the vegetarian version!) prior to Thanksgiving.  It was delicious!  My mother enjoyed it as well.  She was here, prior to setting off on a trip to several countries that she'd been planning for 3 years.  She's in New Zealand now.  

We all really enjoyed the meal together.  Than you for all the time and energy it took to get that all together and to deliver it and set everything up.  Thank you also to Josh who served it.

I am sorry this is so late!

Thank you also for everything you do for your sister Tracy and your mom Carol.  We have enjoyed attending the bible study at your house all these years.  It has really been a blessed life.

Love, 
Mary C.

Wasn't that just the nicest letter?  But here's the thing:  I have no idea who Mary is.  I never prepared and/or delivered a Thanksgiving brunch, vegetarian or otherwise and delivered to Mary and her mother.  While I do have a sister named Tracie (with an i e), my mom's name is not Carol.  It's not even close to "Carol."

And people who know me (and tolerate love me) know I have never hosted a Bible Study, not that there's anything wrong with that.

Coinkydinkily, yesterday, I received a Christmas card that had my address but someone else's name (that I don't recognize) and the sender had written "please forward" on it.  Ok.  Forward WHERE?

Nobody other than my family has ever lived in this house, at this address since the house was built in the early 1950's so it's not like someone hasn't received a change of address from their friends.

Isn't that just odd?  Unfortunately, the return addresses are illegible so now the OTHER Kelly is probably fuming that her culinary efforts are unappreciated and Mary will not understand why Kelly cuts her dead at the next Bible Study.


You're welcome.

Tell your friend Veronica

Have a happy, happy, happy, happy Hanukkah!!
 

Before I put on my makeup

Today, I'm going to talk about a deep subject, something that I'm sure many people who know me (and love me) would be surprised to see/read coming from me, Miss Shallow And Damn Proud of It.

Today's subject is Prayer.  I am not a religious person in any sense of the word.  I think going to church would be a whole lot more enjoyable if the whole religion part of it was removed.  Especially get rid of that whole, "My religion is better than your religion" aspect.

Anyhoo.  You don't need religion to pray.  You don't even need to believe in God.  You just need to have faith that there is a Higher Power and have a positive outlook.

Personally, I don't believe that the Higher Power gives a rat's ass about Bristol Palin success at clomping around on "Dancing With the Stars" or which sports team deserves to win a Championship or choosing which pop star wins an award.  

I also don't think God/HP does all the work for you.  I've known people who were going through difficulties, usually of their own making, and instead of doing something to change their circumstances, they said they're just going to let God take care of it for them.  Meaning, they're not going to do a damn thing but "pray" someone bails them out and then they'll chalk it up to God/HP answering their prayers.  WhatEVER.

Prayer is a very personal thing.  Some people prefer to use formal wording while others tend to pray very informally, kind of the, "Hey!  Can you please keep watch over Loved One?  I'd appreciate it.  Thank you" school of prayer that takes place as they're going for a walk, working in the garden, etc.


The latter example is pretty much how I pray.  That's right.  I said I pray and no, I'm not going to be struck down by lighting despite what SOME people may think.

Lately, I've been doing A LOT of praying for our young friend, Justin ImHof.  He is still in a coma after crashing while racing the Baja 1000.  A fund has been set up to help his family and I'm asking, no, praying that not only will he wake up and come back to the people who love him but that people will add him to their prayers and perhaps make a donation to his fund.


I'm also asking that people visit the Team Justin ImHof Facebook page and leave a message for him, his family and his girlfriend.  They could all use some positive thoughts.

"Each morning I wake up, before I put on my makeup, I say a little prayer for you."

Stuffed with thankfulness

Today is the day we give thanks for what we have in our lives.  And also the day when stuffing ones self with mass amounts of carb laden (is "laden" a word?) food is not only acceptable, it's positively encouraged.

Again this year, it will only be the four of us for Thanksgiving dinner.  And again, it'll be a spiral-sliced ham with a little turkey tit for Thing 1 since he's the only one of us who likes turkey.  I tried to find the smallest ham at Costco because it's only the four of us but the odds are very good that we will be having ham-based meals for the next week or so until we start oinking and rolling around in the mud.  And a spider spins a web saying, "Some pigs!" above the backyard gate.

This has been a bit of a trying year, what with Thing 1's broken knee, dislocated shoulder, getting hit by a car and the shenanigans in Santa Barbara over Halloween weekend.  I know he's very thankful that the DA decided to drop the charges.

Thing 2 is thankful that after several years of orthodontia, she finally got her braces off and now has a beautiful smile.  Let's just hope she is a little more enthusiastic about brushing her teeth to keep that smile beautiful.

TheManTheMyth is thankful that after months of one week of work, 3 weeks of no work, he's been working pretty steadily for the last couple of months.  Let's just hope it continues well into next year.

I'm thankful that I have a great family even though some members can be short on common sense coughKevincough, a doggie that has brought joy to all of our lives, that we still have a home with a new lower monthly mortgage payment ($400 a month less!) and many, many more things to be thankful for that I'm not going to bore you with.

But while we are giving thanks, we can't help but think of our young friend, Justin Imhof, who is still in a coma after his crash in the Baja 1000.  We are praying that he wakes up and can give his family the ultimate reason to be thankful.  We love you, Justin.  Come back to us.

Sleepless and Psychic

So, for the last 3 nights, this has been my sleeping quarters:

TheManTheMyth is still a snotty turdy head and it is impossible to sleep in the same bed while he's wheezing, snoring, gurgling, coughing.  So I've been sleeping on the sofa.  Which I hate.  The sofa, I mean.  And sleeping on it.  Because I hate it.  And it's uncomfortable.  Actually, I haven't exactly been SLEEPING; more like dozing because it's so uncomfortable, especially with a dog who insists on spooning even though there's not enough room.

Thing 2 graciously offered to let me sleep with her but I had to decline because she has a loft bed that is a mere 12" from the ceiling and there's no way I can sleep up there without smacking the ceiling every time I turned over and also because her room is like a tomb.  She keeps it as dark as possible and refuses to allow fresh air to penetrate the darkness so it's dark, stuffy and smells of her hockey gear.  I'd rather sleep on the concrete patio than sleep in her room.  But thanks for the offer!

If I was a mean, selfish type of wife, I'd insist that Typhoid Mary sleep on the sofa and let me and Gracie Lou have the snuggle bed but being the kind, considerate wife that I am, I can make do on the Sofa From Hell.  And remind him of my considerate thoughtfulness on a regular basis.


Ok, so yesterday was the Baja 1000 offroad race, which is a HUGE race, and several of our racing friends were, uh, racing in the motorcycle division.  We spent most of yesterday glued to the internet looking for updates on our racing friends.  Well last night, I had a dream that we were down there in Baja and in my dream, a kid named Justin ImHof, who was making his Baja debut on the Honda B Team, came up and was making gestures to his arm and everyone just stood there going, "Huh?" and he never said a word, just kept pointing to his arm.  When nobody did anything, he sadly rode away.  And in my dream, someone said, "What was that all about?" and I was all, "Duh, he was trying to tell us he broke his arm!"  


Remember that.


As soon as I woke up this morning, I ran to the computer to get an update on the race and get this:  the first thing I read was that Justin had crashed hard, was knocked unconscious and had also BROKE HIS ARM.  Hand to God.  Are you getting goosebumps because I sure as heck did.  


Anyway, Justin was badly injured and is on his way home to the USA on a chartered plane.  He's a really, really good kid, only 17 years old and a heckuva racer and if you have a minute, say a little prayer for him and his family.  


And be in awe at my psychic powers.  I know I am.