All shades of Purple

Because purple is my favorite color.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Quiz of the stressed desserts

Q. The number of calories I consume in one day is determined by:
a) the number and quality of hours I spend alone with the
Jabber Box Eager Helper.
b) the number of words uttered by the
Jabber Box Eager Helper.
c) the number of extra nano-seconds my husband works.

A. The choices are too simplistic. An equation is needed!! (a+b) x (c+n)= 1/2 the calories consumed in a day - chocolate calories. (Where n is the number of pounds I currently need to lose.) I apologize for the poor . . . syntax? of the equation.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Invasion

For the first time since we've been married, in the smallest kitchen we've ever had, I have finally (almost?) lived up to the Christmas cookie expectations of my husband. Don't get me wrong, I've always loved baking and eating cookies but circumstances have never been perfect. We've never, ever had Christmas anywhere near our home nor had friends and family close enough to share the bounty with. It never made sense before now. Plus, there was (my) gainful employment, then a very needy baby, and finally an impending move. This Christmas I find myself in a glorified storage unit where there isn't room for a spare particle of dust, much less the rag to dust it off. My gainful employment is marginal. And my fussy baby has turned into the Cookie Hoover aka the Eager Helper who loves making cookies and is at least not un-helpful.
So this year, I had the husband make a list of top favorites. This year? We finally made a gingerbread house. We have made sugar cookies, linzer cookies, russian tea cookies, buckeyes and roasted almonds. I ended up buying some biscotti instead of making them (biscotti is the one cookie I have usually made these last several Christmases). We still plan to make candy cane cookies and zebra cookies once my back recovers from the hostile takeover we had yesterday. Take it from me: you do not need or want a double batch of gingerbread men invading your home.

Friday, December 01, 2006

Not there yet

Yesterday morning I sat listening to the weather and traffic report across the breakfast table from my husband. A winter storm was beginning and all the feelings of terror and panic I've been conditioned to came rushing back. I try again to memorize every feature of the face I love. I try to record every word he says and the sound of his voice as a stockpile against possible loss. And all those bargaining prayers start before he is even on the road. "If you will just let him live . . ." I know it is melodramatic and ludicrous, but doesn't everyone do it? In times of near crisis, don't we all think "if this is the last time I see you . . ."?

I discovered the fragility of life early, when my dad nearly died in an accident. I replay all those emotions each time it rains, or snows or traffic is snarly and sometimes I am afraid. On such a morning, when I kiss my husband goodbye and think "I can't live without you," I remember my mom talking about the accident years later. While my dad was fighting for his life, she prayed. And as she prayed, she said she finally came to a place where she could say "Even if you take him, I will still trust you. You are enough."
 
FREE hit counter and Internet traffic statistics from freestats.com