Moving on to better days?

 Happy New Year to all -

May 2026 bring all those good things we're hoping for.

Ego? What ego?

          There’s a small shop here in our small town that - alongside fancy teas, apples from a nearby orchard, and artisanal breads – sells my books and those of my neighbor Dave, who's a local historian.

Watch out for the sugar plum fairy

 

I’d had my misgivings, but as it turns out I survived this morning’s yoga class just fine.

          After three days on my feet preparing, creating, and clearing up Christmas, my left knee went on strike. On Saturday the idea of bending it was laughable.

New traditions

     This will be one of the few years we won't be lighting a menorah before we sit down to Christmas dinner, what with Hanukkah coming early.   With both daughter and son having joined up with members of the Jewish faith, it's been a tradition for quite a few years, and it'll seem kind of odd to skip that. 

    You can see even our tree has everything covered. 

    Merry Christmas and Happy whatever your holiday may be! 

Theft, Crowns, Crow

 

          I’m sitting down. Absolute bliss after a day that began in the kitchen at 8:30 and didn’t end until 4:00, except for a small break, of which I’ll tell you more in a minute.

          Completed: Apple cake, Brussel sprouts prepped, vegetable tray, chocolate cake, chicken pot pie with much pot washing and counter clearing in between. (Never mind the dish-gathering and present-wrapping in there somewhere.)

 

   

       Monday morning, I hit the store early, hoping to miss the craziness. It wasn’t too bad – the aisles were passable, the stock hadn’t been fully decimated. I’m always amazed that my over-flowing cart is only focused on two dinners, major afternoon snacking, and two breakfasts.

          I did have a bit of a moment, though, when I turned back from contemplating fancy sorbets to find my cart full of hard-won items was gone. I looked up and down the aisle. Nothing. I started through the store at top speed, peering up more aisles, until I realized the frozen section is at the end of the store so most people go from there to the check-out. Sure enough, there he was in line, a skinny gray-haired guy in a plaid shirt and camo pants.

 

          After all my whining, my trip to the dentist while no fun, was a roaring success.

(And yes, my cold never arrived!)

 What had me really worried was the possibility of having the tooth pulled, with all the attendant stuff that would go with that – sitting around waiting for the site to heal, prep for an implant, putting in the implant, etc, etc.

          So I now have one more crown. I could have bought a new couch or a couple of new couches with the money spent on my mouth. 

            It seemed nothing short of miraculous, considering that he drilled out the entire side
of the tooth, as though he’d taken a melon-baller and scooped out an area you could fit a grape into. And to achieve that and then shove (and I mean shove) in the crown required so much yanking and pulling and stretching of my face, I was sure I’d be able to start a new film career as a female Joker.

 

          My break today from hour after hour on my feet was another trip to the grocery store.

          I’d sent My Guy to pick up the roast I’d ordered and then checked on Monday to verify it’d be ready. I gave him a slip of paper that said “cradled beef roast” on it.

          Sure enough, he came home proudly bearing the meat, and I took one look at it, and the label said “rib roast” with no mention of cradling.

          I did not want to wrestle with trying to carve around bones. What to do?

I found my shoes and motored off to the store, muttering “One job. He had ONE job.”

          Yes, you guessed it. The butcher looked at me pityingly and pointed out that the roast was tied with string to hold it to the ribs, and yes, it was cradled, thus the string.

          So I’ll be having a little crow on the side for Christmas dinner.

 

If it's not one thing . . . .

 

          It was about to come true: one of my greatest fears.

          A succession of sneezes and unusually tired eyes. Was I getting a cold?

          Never mind that Christmas is next week. My big concern was the dentist.

          Earlier in the month I’d gone in for a check-up and was told that I had a massive cavity that would need to be addressed.

“But I don’t feel a thing there,” I said.

“That’s because you’ve had a root canal there and the nerves are gone.”

My fear come true. Sitting in the dentist chair with a cold, unable to breathe.

So, I dug around and found my supply of zinc lozenges and knock-on-wood, they seem to be working. The cold is probably still lurking, waiting to spring, but if I can just make it through Monday’s appointment, I’ll be thrilled.

 Or as thrilled as you can be, going to the dentist and about to have an expensive crown removed, drilled on, and then have another expensive crown put back in its place. And that’s the best-case scenario, since the dentist had muttered darkly about the possibility of extraction.

 

So, in the interest of not thinking about grocery lists, presents, or teeth, I went off to play pickleball Friday afternoon.

The people where I play are a nice crowd, unlike other places where they play as though there are scouts in the audience or this is the trials for the Olympics. We’re a laid-back group. Not beginners, but with enough skills to challenge each other.

I play to the front, my days of running back and forth are gone. Or at least I’m not willing to risk a turned ankle or a fall. There I was - receiving from the other side - I raised my paddle to return with a brilliant shot my opponent would never get to, and . . . .Instead I belted the ball, not to the other court but right into my nose.

Would I now have not only a sore jaw from the dentist, but a black eye for Christmas?

But we found the gym’s first aid kit and I was ordered to the side lines with instructions to Sit still! and Keep that ice pack on your face!

It must have worked because no black eye today, and when I played the next game, we won.

Potatoes and Pajamas

 

(For anyone interested, as requested by Steve at Shadows and Light, here’s a link to the recipe for that chocolate cake I mentioned previously. Wacky Cake)

 

          Here we go – less than a week and the mad shuffle begins. A friend of mine decided that everyone, everyone is getting gift cards and that was it. Another friend will be ordering take-out (albeit fancy take-out) for their Christmas meal. Truly role models for better living.