a new year’s picture book

Some or all may or may not be fictionalized.

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HE: Come, my goddess. Let me take your photo first thing in the morning on the last day of the old year. ME: What?? I’m half asleep, you wanker. HE: Smile! ME: Bleh.

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HE: Now let us appear bland and normal. ME: Don’t forget washed out. HE: Yes, that too, my goddess. ME: Look at us. “Please can we come to your church? We are bland and normal and harmless.” HE: Don’t forget washed out. ME: Shut up.

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HE: Now let one of us appear friendly while the other appears demented. ME: Okay. Which is which? HE: Photos don’t lie, my goddess.

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ME: Okay. NOW let one of us grab the other’s fancy bits whilst whispering not-suitable-for-church nothings. HE: I have no problem with that. ME: Uhm, what does this have to do with New Year’s? HE: Nothing. ME: Oh, okay. I thought this all had a purpose. HE: Nope. ME: Good. Purpose is overrated. HE: You are so right, my goddess, but Happy New Year anyway. ME: Yes. God bless us, every one! HE: That’s for Christmas, isn’t it? ME: It’s for whenever. Blessings are for whenever. HE: Okay. Calm down, Tiny Tim. ME: Calm is overrated! HE: (Sigh.) Should we end this post? ME: I don’t care. I guess so. HE: Okay. ME: Okay.

Clearly, I didn’t plan this out at all since it all went nowhere fast, but Happy New Year, pippa, and God bless us, every one.

the nieces and nephews, christmas 2011

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and Boxing Day, pippa! (MB is a dual citizen of the US and Canada, you see.) Now do I know what Boxing Day is? No. No, I do not. But that doesn’t stop me from hoping you had a good one, whatever it is.

Here’s a moment from our Christmas, frozen in time forever. All the nieces and nephews together:

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From left to right: Piper, now 11; Elder Nephew, now 20; Original Banshee, now 7; Middle Nephew, now 17; Banshee Boy 10 months; and Banshee Girl, now 4.

Things that amuse me about this photo:

~ EN is wearing a beanie he wore all day because he has a “fauxhawk” and my sister, his mother, told him our mom would probably vociferously object to it if she saw it. Instead, mom objected to the hat. (Insert eye roll here.) I saw the fauxhawk unveiled privately and thought it was kind of neato.

~ Banshee Boy was the best dressed of any of the fellas that day, including my dad. Check out his little red vest complete with fancy schmancy insignia. Good LORD, so cute. Never mind that he didn’t wear shoes all day. He’s a well-dressed baby boy with a sense of occasion.

~ Please notice, Middle Nephew, that your baby cousin is contemplating stuffing that plastic potato chip in his mouth. You’re paying attention, right, Middle Nephew? Oh, wait. That’s right. You’re 17.

~ Original Banshee’s dress had a petticoat. She wore it all day. Uhm, even while we all got sweating playing my invented game of “Hot Hot HOT! Potato” on the trampoline.

~ It’s finally dawning on family members that OB looks a lot like Tee Tee as a child. Especially now, with her hair like that, just how mine used to be. She has my eyes exactly. (And, really, family? You just now noticed? The kid’s almost 8.)

~ Piper is wearing a skirt. This is revolutionary, pippa.

~ She is almost taller than I am. Sob.

~ The look on Banshee Girl’s face kills me. It reminds me of this post from Halloween where she said, “Tee Tee, I am baaaaaaaaaaaaad!” Obviously, she is contemplating naughtiness. Now that presents have been opened, she’s in the clear, right?

I smush them all!

Even the huge ones much bigger than I.

Even the one who regularly beats up on me. (Looking at you, Middle Nephew.)

unbearable christmas greetings

(Another fabulous vintage photo.)
1217111722_0001_0001.jpgknow …….
BB: Tee Tee! Please! If you eat me dere will be no more rubberdyband hand to tink about eating.
ME: I guess that makes sense. Sorta.
BB: Tee Tee, I make noting but de sense.
ME: Whatever you say, rubberdyband man.
BB: Merry Chreestmus, Tee Tee.
ME: Merry Chreestmus, Banshee Boy.

tour of our christmas tree

I just finished our tree tonight and I thought I’d give you a blurry crappy cell phone photo tour of it. I mean, a blurry crappy tour is better than none, right? Well, actually, no. No, it’s not, Trace. Nonetheless, we proceed apace, undaunted by crap, which is basically how one must approach life, I suppose.

With the exception of the shiny balls on our tree — because I love shiny balls and who doesn’t, ahem — everything on our tree is paper. Most of the decorations were homemade by me eons ago when we were newlyweds and poor and starving. Now we’re oldyweds and poor and starving, so paper it is! Still!

Here we go. Do not adjust your computer screens. Do not call your ophthalmologist immediately for an appointment re: your nonexistent glaucoma. The photos are just that blurry, but let’s call it atmospheric and old timey, okay?

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One of my painted paper angels and one of my “hope/joy/love” tags. These are scattered throughout. Our tree is a talker, what can I say? Oh, and I sort of drape this stuff called excelsior into and around the tree. See it poking out under the “joy” tag? It’s basically that throwaway stuff that lines the bottom of the Christmas basket you got at work filled with those snootsie Ferrero Rocher candies that everybody is supposed to like but nobody really does. But the stuff is all kinky and curly and I love the way it makes the tree sprrroing out at you. Our tree looks very …. lively in person. I can honestly say I’ve never seen another tree with excelsior on it. When I bought my supply this year for 3 whole bucks, the lady at the floral supply said, “Baskets, huh?” And I said, “Actually, I put it on my tree.” I wish I could have snapped a blurry crappy photo of the funny look she gave me, as if she were thinking, “You put trash on your tree?” Uhm, peaches, I put trash on my head, so there.

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Let’s see. (Boy, these are seriously crappy photos.) On the very left is the “twist” of a wired paper ribbon I made. There are 4 sections of this on the tree. Next to it is one of my gold paper snowflakes. A “joy” tag. Another angel. A portion of the pale gold and sheer white ribbon star garland I made one year from what was at hand. You know, that said, I’m kind of surprised the whole tree isn’t done up in Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrappers. Maybe next year. MB and I had better get crackin’ on that now then. Lots ‘o’ Reese’s to eat.

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More wired paper ribbon. In the middle of the shot, though, is one of my mom’s quilling pieces. Isn’t it gorgeous? She gave MB and I a few dozen of these for our first Christmas together. I think it’s the best present she’s ever given me. They’re so delicate and very time-consuming to make. I treasure them.

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Around the bottom of our tree, I hang Christmas cards MB and I have given each other over the years. More talking on the tree! This one is my favorite. It has a quote I love from Anton Chekhov: We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.

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More of the bottom, with one of the larger gold snowflakes hanging amongst the cards.

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The top. Just a plain red papier mache star, some plaid Christmas ribbon because I’m a sucker for plaid Christmas ribbon, and a pop-up angel card from years ago. Actually, I need to futz with the lights so it looks a bit more “lit” up there.

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A jumble of stuff. Clearly. (Or not so clearly.)

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The tree unlit — and actually, not entirely finished in this shot. You can’t really see the full sproingy action in this photo, but it’s there, it’s there. Papery and wonky. I like how the cards and snowflakes give the tree some kicky pleats.

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Daytime tree.

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The tree lit up, ablaze.

Thanks for coming on this blurry crappy photo tour of our tree, pippa.

big date with the banshee girls

MB and I are off to a movie date with the Banshee Girls (Happy Feet 2, pray for me).

In our PJs.

Yep. That’s the agreement. “Will YOU wear jammies TOOOO, Tee Tee????” Uhm, duh, yes. Yes, I will. I even bought them new jammies for the occasion. Sure, it’s a 2:50 showing, not an evening one, because of youngest Banshee Girl’s bedtime, so we’ll be wearing PJs in broad daylight, but who cares?

I’ll be rockin’ my sock monkey PJs, pippa.