One last post for 2010

Weather wise, it's been a poetically perfect December. Poetically?, you ask, perhaps with a raised eyebrow or two. Not exactly the typical word of choice for weather. Ah, but so it was, just like poetic justice or other such poetic things. The month started off with snow, just as December should have. (None in November, mind you; it waited until December 1.) As the month progressed, the snow level increased just enough to match the increasingly Christmasy atmosphere. We had a few warmer days right before Christmas that threatened to melt our white Christmas, but low and behold, Christmas Eve arrived with a nice dusting of snow that was just enough to make things pretty again but not enough to make any road trouble. A perfect Christmas snow indeed, one that even the off duty snow plow folks can enjoy at home. Of course, Christmas Day always ends, and then there's the nasty reality that even though we've just had the biggest holiday of the season, we're still less than a week into the real winter, with months of cheerless frostbite looming in the new year. (Did I mention that there was a spectacular lunar eclipse on winter solstice day? That's what the news tells me at least; my baby let me sleep through it.) But wait! Our December had another surprise in store: it got warmer. And warmer. And so, while my relations in so-called warmer parts figured out what to do about their frozen pipes, my girls and I went out shopping with no need for anything more than a light jacket. At night. The snow? Gone. Seems right, too; what's the point of snow if there's no Christmas to go with it? Now, I know that we'll probably get back to the regularly scheduled weather one of these days. But in the meantime, I just wanted to let the world know how grateful I was for our lovely December weather. :)

Thank you, me

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank myself for being a better record keeper in the past. You and your old school paper records just saved the day. So, thank you, me. And, to future me, I'll see what I can do to return the favor. (this post is intended to be strange . . . it is directed at a very specific audience . . . me, the author; the rest of you can ignore it if you wish)

Amanda is ready for the desert

Went for a little walk with my eldest today. Hadn't gotten far at all when she declared quite emphatically that she did NOT like the snow. So, if anyone want to give her a desert vacation, she'll probably thank you. :)

The Bank: Our Biggest Fan

Periodically, the bank in charge of our credit card rewards our loyalty by raising our credit limit. All we have to do is either 1) keep the card for a really long time or 2) actually use the card . . . a lot. And so today, they rewarded our charging by inviting us to charge even more than we could before! Who says the banks have no holiday spirit? They're all ready to deck our halls with all the red and illusion of green we want. Does it make me a grinch to just want everything black instead? :) (Financially speaking, that is; true green also good.)

The Misunderstood Remote

The Story (story version): Once upon a time, there was a universal remote named Phil charged with giving direction to the lives of a TV (Em), a DVD player (Sheba), and a VCR (Merson). The remote did its job so well that even when its owner could no longer care for it, it was sent along with the other appliances to a new family. There was another remote that went with the appliances as well, a remote with more buttons, but one only capable of controlling a single machine, the DVD player (that remote was called Toe). The family who inherited the devices was thrilled with the collection, although they largely ignored Phil at first. Who could blame them? It had been years since they'd had remotes at all, let alone the stuff the remotes were supposed to control.

Eventually, though, Dad in the new family discovered that while Toe was great for telling Sheba what to do, with Phil he could not only command Sheba, but also control Em, too, and even Merson, all without leaving the comfort of Blue, the couch. And so began a golden age for Phil, when once again he was truly appreciated for his talents.

The Mom of the new family, however, did not fully appreciate Phil. She used him occasionally, but usually grumbled things about how lazy the rest of the family was for not getting up to push Em, Sheba, and Merson's buttons. Mom did appreciate Toe, however, and tried to take good care of him. One day Phil stopped working, and so Mom did the most insensitive thing of all: she took away Phil's batteries and gave him to the kids to play with.

Phil suffered in silence for countless days. Dad missed Phil and suggested getting new batteries for him, but it seemed that Phil was beyond repair. He finally drifted down to the basement, no longer interesting even to young master Spencer, the younger son of the family, aged 1. Oh, to be reduced to such a state of wo! But then . . .

In her efforts to protect Toe, Mom brought Phil back out the basement. Just to be fair, she once again tried giving Phil new batteries. Phil's red light blinked when Mom pushed buttons, but neither Em, Sheba, nor Merson responded to any of Mom's commands. She sighed, tossed Phil aside, and went back to pushing buttons by hand. Then young master Spencer found Phil, and decided to play with him again. No one realized there was a problem until it was clear that Em and Sheba were no longer on speaking terms. Mom and Dad tried in vain to make peace between the two machines, using Toe and the machines' own buttons to no avail. Mom even tried to use Phil, but nothing Mom or Dad could do could get Em and Sheba communicating again. The only one who seemed at all benefited by this turn of events was Merson, who could communicate with Em without any help from either Phil or Toe. Finally, Mom decided to ask a friend for help. Mom's friend then brought over another remote, Victor . . . and a big instruction manual to go with him.

It turned out that Victor could only help if Mom taught him how to talk to Em (or any of the other machines). Em only needed one small command to make up with Sheba, but it would take a remote to issue the command. After much reading of Victor's manual and much googling for codes for Em, Mom began the long task of educating Victor. Finally, Mom succeeded and Victor reunited Em and Sheba. Mom then returned Victor to his original owner so that he could not accidentally be used for evil by any of the children of the family.

Mom was still puzzled, though, about how Em and Sheba had gotten in a fight to begin with. She knew from her efforts to get them back together that the trouble hadn't arisen either from Toe or from Em or Sheba's own buttons. Phil was dead, so he couldn't have caused the problem . . . or could he? And then Mom realized the truth: Phil was NOT dead! Phil was very much alive! And he had been brainwashed by young master Spencer (or perhaps young master Michael . . . or both . . .)! At last, Mom finally understood Phil and began to fully appreciate him.

Mom decided that the best way to show Phil how sorry she was for mistreating him in the past was to rehabilitate him. This time she used her googling skills for Phil's benefit and began the careful task of retraining him to communicate with Em, Sheba, and Merson, just as he had before. She rejoiced when she succeeded and vowed that Phil should never again be neglected. She gave him a place of honor hidden away from young masters Michael and Spencer and also charged mistress Susan to help her in her quest to protect Phil, just as she already helped to protect Toe. Dad, of course, was also glad to hear of Phil's return. And so, they all lived happily ever after. :)

Plain talk explanation: Our TV and DVD player mysteriously stopped talking to each other after a toddler played with our not-so-dead universal remote. We finally figured out that the problem was definitely remote related and realized that the remote was indeed still functional, albeit deprogrammed. And so it came to pass that we now understand the previously misunderstood remote. And Mom (the author) is feeling very tech-savvy for having done all the remote control programming. :)

The ethics of glitter

We received a packet from an institution the other day which, along with its plethora of paperwork, included some glittery confetti type stuff, the sort that threatens to irrevocably coat your whole room if you open the envelope too quickly or carelessly. I managed to hold off the glitter storm (for now), but it got me thinking. How ethical is it to include glitter/confetti in envelopes? If there is some sort of pleasant surprise inside, like a check or a birthday greeting, it might be kind of fun and almost worth the clean up. However, I think that it might be less appropriate as congratulations for nothing more than extra paperwork to fill out. Seems almost like adding insult to injury at that point: congrats on the extra paper work, and now you get to vacuum again, too! Perhaps I am overly jaded from living amongst a herd of clutter creators. I must admit that it was kind of fun finding one of the sparkly stars stuck to my baby: new and improved baby, still a cute as ever, now with added shine!

First snow on December 1st

What punctual weather we have this year! Ordinarily (by what we know as ordinary, a rather short span actually in the long scheme), we get our first snow in November (nothing to speak of, just flakes), and then December, that classic month for white, usually ends up rather brownish green, with no real snow until January. Today, however, was the first snow. In December for a change! Guess I should think about getting those fall things put away and the winter things out. In the meantime, we're ready for anything, be it snow or warm spell: we've got a Christmas wreath on the door, and a pumpkin on the doorstep. :)