Got Geeky Goods!

What geeks get for Christmas. My daughters teamed up to present me with a very nerdy holiday. A robe to cover my blogging jammies, and -- the best present ever!! -- a wireless gaming paddle. With dualshock, no less. A new look for the Little Pond is on tap for the New Year. I've asked Karen of Scottsdale to redo my colors and add a totally "pb" touch. More later.

Note to my Jewish and Black readers

A very festive and Happy Hanukkah and Kwanzaa to you all!

I want to mention Inspired Lighting once again to my readers who use candelabra to mark holidays. These people are filling a real need for those of us with asthma and sensitivity to smoke. They want suggestions as they plan their new product for next year. I personally wouldn't mind a new table wreath arrangement for Advent.

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Little Pond

Merry Christmas from the Little Pond! 

Christmas Cactus?

Not a creature was stirring, not even a...

Quantify Holiday Cheer?

Well, you can try. Go to Five on Friday. The first question is the only one with a clear-cut answer for me.

It's been "Happy Holiday" or "Season's Greetings" ever since I became an adult. Starting at Elmira College, which usually has a goodly Jewish population, and later, when I worked for American Optical in Framingham, Massachusetts, where Asian and Indian ladies detailed their winter lights celebrations, it became a must. Seems all cultures have a celebration of lights for the darkest, longest nights of the year.

And, hey, if you're willing to share your holiday with me, I'm willing to share my holiday with you.

Season's Greetings.

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Little Pond

Blogging the Hedgehoglet

We are busy finishing our holiday shopping, so it's great when Husband RJ preps the post. He took dozens of shots. The winners are posted in the Little Pond. Have a look.

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Little Pond

The GrandHoglet

Meet the latest introduction to the Little Pond ecosystem. Her name is Ci Wei, an English rendering of "Hedgehog" from Mandarin Chinese, which we are further corrupting to ki-wi. Something sweetly exotic, so to speak. Her MamaHoglet, our very own VeggieGirl, loves kiwi fruit. Our new little friend bears some resemblance to the EnZedder kiwis. And just as shy and semi-nocturnal, too.

Why, yes. We do have a thing about names in the Little Pond, don't we?

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Little Pond

Blue Sky, White Snow

Friday, December 16, 2005. After a long night at the paper, I really didn't need a walk through the mess left by our little nor'easter. But the HuggaMutt insisted it would be fun, and good exercise. And why don't we take the camera on our walking tour?

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Little Pond

At 7:45 this morning, December 16, 2005, our little Lovey, grande dame Sophia Nocturna, our sweet Spooky crossed the bridge ahead of us. Her last act was to claim a bowl of tuna water as her own. Dominant to the end. We caressed her face, because the rest of her was too frail. She spoke one last time, and then quietly passed amidst the hubbub of our usual weekday morning. We love her and expect to miss her dearly. 

Awww, Gramma, not again...

Ellie's sick of blogging. And so am I. Got presents to wrap, then resting to do. Later.

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Little Pond

Don't expect Designer-type Professionalism...

C'mon, fellas, you are not helping! Ellie and Bubba tussle among the boxes and wrapping. We are setting up the tree and other ornaments in the Little Pond. The place is a mess, but you're welcome, anyway.

Burnt Tail Alert!

Know what my first reaction was? "Get your tail away from the flame, dummy!" But no. These are from Inspired Lighting, and are battery operated. They are rescuing my Advent wreath. No more asthma attacks from our little Sunday ceremonies.

More photos coming Sunday night.

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Little Pond

Go. To. Five on Friday.

Now, while you still have your bookmarks up.

I'm too embarrassed to say how much time I spend on the Internet. Or how long my list of bookmarks is. Or even mention that nearly all my bookmarks have links that I regularly follow. Or that I visit my own blogs to follow even more links, to some of my blogging buddies.

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Pearl Harbor Anniversary

My Grampa would always solemnly intone "A day that will live in infamy..." whenever we mentioned Pearl Harbor. When I was quite small, it seemed he was making up something wonderful for the occasion. After I had seen the clip of Roosevelt's speech, I "knew" the truth. Grampa never claimed the phrase. He was quoting the President, or even mimicking him. He was remembering. In the whirlwind of the ensuing war years, my father, and maybe even his entire generation, simply accepted the phrase as history, a part of the whole mess and glory that was World War II.

Grampa gave me something else. The shock and horror of the magnitude of the tragedy was made crystalline to me on September 11, 2001. Grampa had already gone to two wars, WWII was not to be his fight, except on the homefront. I was never even fit for the Peace Corps, but I adopted its philosophy on the homefront. And this also was through my Grampa's example. That's a whole other posting someday.

Funny how the anniversary of the Attack on Pearl Harbor makes me remember and appreciate anew my Grampa's contribution to the war effort. Because that contribution surely lives on in all his children and grandchildren. Those left behind do contribute: it is up to each to decide if that contribution is positive or negative. Even if we only welcome our returning soldiers and congratulate and thank them for their sacrifice.

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If it's worth doing,

...it's worth overdoing!** Ellie's dressed for play in the snow. "More sweater than dog" was the verdict of a disapproving neighbor, but I insist on knowing for sure than she's not chilled. But the way, we are busily overdoing the Christmas decorating, and photos will follow later tonight. I promise! Click for link to our photo blogsite.

**Time Enough for Love, Robert Heinlein.

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Little Pond

Interacte

This week I was robbed twice and poisoned twice. The boss has been on vacation and I've been in charge. No fun, though, because it's still his department. The result is a week of anxiety, long hours and overworking. So tired, so very tired.

Twice, no, three times I left money, checks, check card, or a combination of those three in my car. I never do that, but I've been exhausted at work with no energy left for memory or good sense. In two raids, all three exchange media have been stolen from the front seat. And no, I didn't lock the damned car. That would have required enough psychic energy to engage brain, memory, and small motor skills, all of which are still spazzing out on me. The first theft would have been enough to prevent the second, except that I was convinced that I simply lost the checks. Already the memory was in shreds. The deja vue feeling of the second theft convinces me the check disappeared at the hands of a local walker. Expensive lesson at a time I'm too tired to absorb it.

Poisoning was surely part of the problem. Quiznos came to town. Their menu is extensive and somewhat differently focused than that of Subway. But similar to Charlie's, where I've never had a problem. Anyway, I had the steak sub. Just yummy, but apparently the sauces have some sort of MSG. Lost about five pounds in one long, hard night of work and running to the ladies' room (on the other side of the building). Like a dummy, the next day I celebrated feeling better with orange juice (I must remember the hives and sore throat...) and vodka. Did you know you can vomit bile from deep within the recesses of your bowels, like a cat? Once the stomach is empty, it has to come from somewhere.

But I'm better today. Just a little lighter and washed out and twitchy; the MS is flaring up from all the nerves. I'll live, but I won't like it for a while.

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Little Pond