I’m with him right up until the very end, where he gets kind of Jesus-preachy. But it really is only a tiny little bit way at the end. And he is a Christian, not a secret Muslim.
Archive for Holidays
More gratuitous cuteness
Mother’s Day, 2008 (I know, it’s a bit past that, I’ve been a bit preoccupied). Léa and my mother at the brunch table upstairs at the Greenwich Ginger Man.
Walking down Greenwich Avenue toward the park:
Can you pick out the little dimples on the back of her hand and elbow? Too delicious!
Blood’s Bounty
This is what the inside of my refrigerator looks like, well, at least one of the drawers. A few weeks before Chanukah we got a card from Blood’s Hammock Groves informing us that we were going to be the lucky recipients of a case of navel oranges, courtesy of my father and stepmother. The box arrived today (my poor UPS guy!) and after slicing into it with my old, dull Henckels, I retrieved a piece of Florida’s Most Pampered Fruit®. The thinness of the skin surprised me; I was expecting something much thicker and harder to peel. They simply are the juiciest, most delicious seedless oranges I’ve ever had! I was wondering how two people are going to get through them all, but I’ve eaten two already, and my mouth is watering thinking about them. And we can give a few to the neighbors. The good neighbors, that is.
Merry Christmas!
Before the kids got to their presents:
and after:
G’s big gift to me made me cry, he gets me every year with something spectacular (an Anya Hindmarch Be A Bag with this picture on it). Good wishes to all in the meantime.
Christmas presents all out
except for my mom’s and her boyfriend’s but we’ll make plans to see them after the holiday. I’m actually still waiting on some for my mom and my sister-in-law, my brother’s went out today (Express Mail) as did my in-laws’. We’re heading upstate for the holiday to G’s oldest sister’s for a few days, and are toting along their presents, plus ours from everyone else, plus four loaves of Stop & Shop wheat bread (no high fructose corn syrup). I can’t find the bag of stuff my nephew left here a few months ago; I suspect the cleaners moved it to parts unknown. At least we found Jack
G’s Theraflu is kicking in; time for sleep.
“We’re not closing the door.”
So sayeth Apple. They’re going with candidates with more Apple peripheral experience than I for the holiday, but they’re going to call me after. So my job now is to learn as much as I can in the next two weeks so that I am better prepared. I’m an idiot to not have gone in there more prepared. But I can only learn from my mistake.
At least for now, I’m collecting unemployment, and we can go see my SIL and family up in Syracuse for Christmas.
No news yet
on the Apple front. G says I’ll hear from them on Monday. We hopes.
We went to my mom’s tonight for Chanukah (yeah, I spelled it like that. You spell it whatever way you want.) to spend some time with her and her boyfriend B, my brother and his wife, and their gorgeous daughter, Léa. I had my camera with me but forgot to take it out, she was that captivating. We had a tea party, and she kept feeding me chips with a spoon (”mo’ tsips”). If you asked her for a “bisou” she’d come and plant the tiniest kiss on your cheek. G noticed that she’d say something in English and then repeat it in French. “Two” then “deux.” She had trouble with “ice cream” but none at all with “glace.”
For dinner we had my mother’s famous noodle kugel (ohmygoditwasfuckingdelicious) for which I need the recipe. We had the ubiquitous latkes, and flank steak, and then this dish that one of her residents suggested; asparagus with heavy cream, cheddar, and ham. Really fucking good. She gave each of us couples a 400-piece jigsaw puzzle “made especially for you featuring an extract from the US Geological Survey map base centered on your home. The jigsaw covers an area of 4 miles north-to-south and 6 miles east-to-west.” Your home is at the center, and the centerpiece is shaped like a house. Wicked cool, and I wish I could link to it, but the website returns an error. There are two email addresses on the back of the box, hopefully one will work for those of you interested: In the UK, sales@mapmarketing.com. In the US, orders@historicnewspaper.com. Visits to both of those sites led nowhere useful; perhaps email will. I don’t know how my mother found it, probably a catalog. I’ll take a picture of the puzzle one it’s finished.
Of kittycats and Christmas trees
What’s a knitting and spinning blog without any knitting? No good, I tell you, no good. Here is Harry glaring at Sock One of a pair for my father (due Sunday night — gadzooks!). To be fair, I spent the last three days in bed, sick, except for the interview, which went swimmingly (At one point she said, “We’re interviewing other people, but I love you!”). News on that front will be at the earliest, Friday, at the latest, Tuesday. Anyway, about the sock, it’s Colinette’s Jitterbug in Blue Parrot, knit on size 3 Addis, my own toe-up recipe. I’d started knitting these for myself about three months ago, but they were too big. I kept knitting, not really willing to admit my gauge error knowing I’d find someone they’d fit. After losing my job, my father said, “No presents for us! Knit me something instead, I know, socks! Can you do socks?” Can I do socks? You betcha! My very favorite thing to knit, in fact. I don’t know why, but there is something magical about turning that heel, every time.
We ventured out today to get Christmas trees. There is a lot down on Route 6 that benefits the Delancey Street Foundation, a noble, charitable cause. From their website: “We’re considered the country’s leading residential self-help organization for substance abusers, ex-convicts, homeless and others who have hit bottom.” All the proceeds from the sale of the trees go to the Foundation. G got our trees there last year, and while they were a bit more expensive this year (he got last year’s trees on December 23d for $10 each), the knowledge that the money is going to a worthy cause it heartwarming indeed. Here are pictures of Penelope and Pablo captive on the car, and Penelope, naked, inside (Pablo lives on the porch, pictures of him will come). They are eight and six feet, respectively, are Balsam Firs, and lived in Quebec before living in our humble abode. Welcome to our new additions!
