Gracie Lately

Gracie gets her first bowl of food at five a.m. At that time of day, my husband is already up, dressed and ready for his own breakfast. As he heads for the kitchen, he leans down to the sleeping dog and whispers, "Gracie, do you want some breakfast?" Without fail, she leaps off the bed and flies down the stairs, ready to dig in.

Similarly, Gracie knows just when to expect her second meal of the day. After our long walk, during which she has considerable freedom to run up and down the sidewalks on the end of her long rope, I put Gracie on a heel as we cross the street into our yard. We pass under the front trellis, and at the edge of the lawn, I have her sit and stay. Then I snap off the lead, and offer her release word.

"Okay!"

Then, without fail, my wild red-headed missy sprints up the length of the lawn like Usain Bolt, wheels to a screeching halt at the front porch, and then turns to watch me saunter up her race track, imploring me to HURRY.

Because Gracie knows that I have already prepared her dinner, and the dish is waiting just inside the front door.

S L O W L Y, in a effort to draw out this ceremony to its greatest dramatic potential, I put her on a another stay, open the door, reach inside, and present the bowl to her at the usual spot on the step.

Oh, but she's not allowed to break her stay until I have seated myself with great flair on the nearby chair, and fully prepared myself for this grand ritual. My dog's eyes gaze deeply into mine, watching for the first hint of that magic word.

"Okay!"

Once again released from her pose by the starter's pistol, Gracie springs to her feet, drops her nose into her bowl, and starts eating. She does not lift her head until every bite of kibble has been consumed, and then only shifts six inches to the water bowl. She takes a long drink, pausing once to look back in the now-empty food bowl, and then goes in again for more water.

After the second, even longer drink of water, Gracie turns her attention a third time to the food bowl, and licks out every square inch with gusto. She does not miss a single crumb.

And then, after one more long and luxurious drink, she is ready to go inside. 

^ In the golden glow of late afternoon. 

On the home stretch of our daily route, Gracie and I pass along a 10-15 foot perimeter of overgrown bushes and trees. Bounded on one side the the side walk and the other side by a six-foot tall cedar fence, this scruffy strip of loosely landscaped greenery is full of lovely undergrowth and mysterious shadows that make for ideal sniffing and foraging for a dog on the hunt. 

As I stroll contentedly on, up ahead of me on her long leash, Gracie wades in and out of the brush, often up to her shoulders in brambles or even disappearing from sight as she investigates the territory.

Recently, on a still sunny afternoon, as we went through this familiar dance, I suddenly heard frantic rustling noises, a scratching of claws on cedar fencing, and then a series of crashing noises that could only mean my dog was running wildly through the brush.

I glanced up to see a cat running along the top of the fence. Ohhh, yes. That would explain everything.

But then I looked again at what was surely the biggest, ugliest cat I had ever seen.

And that's when I noticed it was actually a raccoon.

Now we have plenty of raccoons in our neighborhood and often see them prowling around in the dark and near-dark hours of the day. But to see one marching around in broad daylight is an unsettling development and I held my breath, expecting this critter to reach around and take a swipe at my crazy dog bounding along at its side. 

But no. The raccoon continued its sprint toward the deeper cover of trees up ahead and Gracie came when I called to her, exhilarated and flushed by the thrill of the hunt.

I praised her for coming, settled her back on the sidewalk, and we shortly arrived home victorious. 

^ "I am ready for my walk. Look how good I'm being!!!"

In our extra-deep kitchen sink, I keep a large, lidded plastic bin for food scraps. During the day, bits of garbage slowly accumulate, and then we empty the bin in the evening after dinner. The lid operates on a hinge, so we simply flip it open to make a deposit, then set the lid back in place without latching it shut. 

Several times this week, we've come home to find the bin and its contents strewn across the floor. 

Now granted, these incursions have happened in the mornings so there has not been much of a mess. And honestly, I could hardly believe my dog had actually figured how how to lift that even-heavy-when-empty container out of the sink using nothing but her sturdy little teeth. 

Denial is a powerful force, and I was sure that if I simply pushed the container to the far side of the sink, my dog certainly would not repeat this fluke performance.

Well. On Wednesday, I was out for a few hours, and when I came back, my home-alone dog met me at the garage door with her usual enthusiastic greeting. But what's this? I wondered as I petted her. Little sticky bits of what appeared to be white rice ringed her head like a crown. How can that be?

Two steps into the family room and a quick flashback to my early morning refrigerator clean-out of old leftovers answered all my questions. 

Gracie had indeed hefted the almost-full container from the sink, dragged it carefully into the family room, opened it up and feasted on the contents.

Two baked potatoes. 

A bit of vanilla pudding.

The last of a beef stew

Some sliced apples.

Half a tuna sandwich.

Baby carrots and ranch dressing. 

And yes, A cup of white rice.

In an apparent effort to demonstrate her self-control, Gracie had left behind two pairs of eggshells, a crumpled paper napkin, and a popsicle stick. 

I was not impressed.

So now when I go out, the compost container goes into the fridge. 

^ These four furry red legs make me smile every morning. 

Today, Gracie has been a perfect angel. 

While I dug in the gardens, she waited patiently, lying among the day lilies and watching passersby. We went for our walk much earlier than usual, and she was rewarded by a half-dozen high school girls who cooed over her sweet behavior and petted her silky coat. Just now, she woke up from a long nap on the nearby couch, and fetched her latest rawhide bone, which she has begun to chew. 

Even the quiet days are an adventure with my girl, Gracie, and I can't wait to see what she will do next. 

StyleNanda Pink Hotel

Despite its name, this is not a hotel

Despite its function, this is much more than a store.

The StyleNanda Pink Hotel is a playground for the imagination and a dream world of beautiful images, If you can't get to Seoul to see it for yourself, then please let me show you around. 

* * * * *

First Floor: Lobby and  Fine Dining

^ Let's step through the constant crowds shooting photos out in front. And don't let these schoolgirls fool ya; all types flock here: foreigners, groups of girlfriends, couples in love, and older folks with a curiosity for all things pink, like the person in the blue bucket hat standing in the doorway

^ Come through the doors to the lobby and step into a dream. There's an information desk, a glitzy display of room keys, and a pink tile floor for the ages.

^ The main area of the first floor is styled as a dining room, complete with stacks of plates, gilded sneeze guards and chafing dishes, and of course, yards of pink buffet skirts on the tables. At the back in the first checkout counter, and our hosts maintain just the kind of stiff and formal transaction that one would expect at any sort of proper hotel.

* * * * *

Second Floor: Spa

^ Let's climb the stairs to the second floor.. Dominating the space is a huge marble island lined with, you guessed it, sinks. Fitted out with brass faucets, the basins double as product display space. These adorable tubes of lotion double down on their cuteness by repeating the key theme we saw on the first floor.

^But the true highlight of the second floor - if not the entire hotel - is the heavenly claw foot tub full of pink floating flowers, set off by the brass faucets and that herringbone floor. 

^ From the second floor balcony, look out on a dreamy hotel room vignette that hangs suspended over the first floor lobby.. The muslin-draped chandelier, elegant nightstand, ancient phone, Parisian bed frame, and fluffy white bedding are all spot though honestly, we would all sleep better with a mattress over those wire springs. 

* * * * *

Third Floor: Rooms

Hotel rooms are the feature of the third floor - black paneled doors, a sitting room with velvet and brass, and breezy white sheers set the tone. Mannequins and display racks artfully placed here and there discreetly reveal the clothing and shoes offered for sale, but you'll have to excuse me if I'd rather curl up on a couch and read. 

* * * * *

Fourth Floor: The Laundry

^ Sweaters, causal tops and jeans share space with washers, dryers, and endless boxes of soap. This floor captures the vibe of a working space but in the prettiest, most dreamy of ways.

* * * * *

Fifth Floor: The Pool

 

 ^ Wait, so it's not an actual pool but a poolside cafe and that's okay. Let's order ourselves up some bubbly drinks and please pass the sunscreen. 

* * * * * 

Sixth Floor: Rooftop Terrace

^ Settle down into some huge puffy pillows and rest in the soft evening air. The sounds of the city's hustle and bustle drift up from the street, not to disturb but to simply remind us of what a magical place we have found. 

 * * * * *

Read about what I bought at StyleNanda and how the magic followed me home

 Pink Eye Shadow

Pink Eye Shadow

About a month before I left for South Korea, I did considerable research on the best souvenirs to buy in Seoul.

Which is to say I Googled around for a few minutes. But the results I found were quite consistent and comprehensive.

Make-up. When in Seoul, buy make up.

Blah.

I wear make up. But I am not really a make-up person, if you catch my drift. Make-up for me is about like toothpaste: a necessary, important, and somewhat enjoyable part of my daily routine that may be upgraded from time to time but is not really an area of experimentation or shopping inspiration.

And sure enough, when I got to Seoul, stores full of cosmetics and skin care abounded.

Etude House
Olive Young
Innisfree
Tony Moly
Too Cool For School

The list went on and on. Seemed that around every corner was another store full of lip gloss pots, face masks, skin toner, and eye pencils, and my daughters who were with me could not get enough.

I spend a lot of time sitting outside these stores, people-watching and pondering the state of my make-up free universe.

Until we went to StyleNanda Pink Hotel

Okay, if I have this right, StyleNanda began as the handle of a Korean beauty blogger who built up such a following that she created her own line of products called 3CE. StyleNanda played out her fantasies for the ultimate shopping experience by creating the self-named Pink Hotel where one can buy not only her 3CE brand but also clothing, accessories, and snacks at her Poolside Cafe and Rooftop Garden.

The first time I visited there, I was so wrapped up in the fantastical experience that I could barely see straight.

The second time, my head cleared and I was ready to shop.

I didn't buy a lot. But each thing I chose was a treasure.

A pair of creamy white velvet socks.
A tiny hot pink traveling blush brush
And a set of four pink eye shadows.

Now I'm home, wrapped up in the gloom of winter and the repetition of my daily routine. The magic of the StyleNanda Pink Hotel seems like a faraway dream.

But in the mornings, when I pull out my 3CE compact and brush a thin line of pink across my eyelids, right next to my lashes as a sort of sparkly eyeliner, I feel the magic come flooding back. I remember the floating chandelier and the water lilies in the bathtub and the tangible sense of dreams coming true that filled every inch of the Pink Hotel.

And I do believe that when I bought my pink eye shadow, I bought the best souvenir ever.

* * * * *

Wanna go on a tour of the StyleNanda Pink Hotel with me? Check it out here.

Madame Spring

Chill winds tore through my sweater and whipped raindrops against my face as I dashed down the sidewalk toward the entrance of the grocery store. Wheeling around the last corner, I looked up just in time to see a glorious display of primrose.

How cruel, I lamented, to set those poor plants outside on a day like this. 

And how cruel, my thoughts echoed, to tempt us poor mortals with the idea that spring is just around the corner. We still have many dark and dreary weeks of winter to go.

In spite of my dismay, I dug deep into my rain-splattered purse to pull out my phone and snap a few shots of this discordant beauty before the flowers all froze to death.

The photo shoot only took a few seconds,but as I was finishing, a woman stopped next to me. 

She saw what I was doing, paused just a heartbeat, and laughed. 

"Oh, they're so lovely!"

"And only a dollar forty-seven each? I want some!"

We smiled at one another as she sailed on into the store. 

I could tell you about her face, just beginning to show the deepening beauty of the decades, glowing and generous and gentle.

I could try to describe the lilting melody of her voice, delighted by her find and touched with the trace of an Eastern European accent. 

But all you need to know is that in this brief encounter, I felt hope and courage rise up in me as if the warming winds of the new season had already begun to breathe against the land.

And I wondered if I hadn't met Madame Spring herself, just outside the entrance to my grocery store. 

Gracie's Good News

Great news!

Gracie has lost all her extra weight!

At her six-month check-up with her vet, she weighed in at 81 pounds, down from 99 pounds when we adopted her last July, and was thereby pronounced fit and fabulous.

We promptly celebrated with a post-appointment walk in the rain which allowed a perfect photo op for capturing the svelte new body underneath her shaggy coat.

She's still working on her 'smizing.'

Now Gracie is still a big dog. No slender slip of a thing, as many female Irish are, my girl is steady and strong, broad in the beam, and surprisingly tall.  

And all these weeks of dieting have taught me one thing; Gracie loves to eat. It will be a life-long challenge to keep her away from the sweets and savories that she so craves.

But now that we have overcome this first and fairly forbidding fitness obstacle, we can handle whatever comes next. 

And for Gracie and me, that is very good news. 

Clean Sleep

Clean sleep.

To me, that means

sleep that is refreshing and satisfying.
sleep that fits the natural rhythms of my body
sleep that keeps me in tune with the rest of the world
sleep that feels good.

Now I've been a delayed sleep phase sleeper since I was a toddler, so I'm always struggling to maintain healthy sleep habits. But in the past few weeks, that goal has been even more elusive than usual. So I'm experimenting with some changes.

1. Clutter-free nightstand

No artsy stacks of books, 

no vases of flowers, 

no glasses of water perched on cute coasters. 

By sweeping this surface clean of clutter - even pretty clutter - my mind feels equally clean and clear as I prepare to sleep. 

2. Electronics-free sleep zone

On the best of nights, my phone used to sleep on my nightstand; worse and more often under my pillow. And while the scientific jury is still out on exactly how our devices impact our sleep, Iknow for a fact that my phone exerts a constant if subtle pressure on me to check in what's happening in the world.  I don't need that distraction, so my phone and his charger have been moved on the other side of the room. 

3. Old school alarm clock

Yes, my phone has indeed served me very well as a handy alarm clock, but that is a technology rabbit hole into which I will no longer fall. A simple clock with a straightforward alarm suits my purposes perfectly well and my phone can mind his own business. 

4. Diffuser at the ready

Eucalyptus-infused air rushes me off to dreamland and soothes my breathing - I've long known that. So rather than house this amazing machine across the room, I've brought him right alongside my bed. 

5. Silky support

For Christmas, I got this simple silk pillowcase and it is a sensory delight. When I first lay down my head, the silk is cool against my cheek; it quickly warms to a comfortably cozy temperature that lulls me to sleep. If I wake up during the night, a quick flip of the pillow allows me to reboot the process. And though my side-sleeping preference makes a slippery little eye pillow fairly useless, since it just slides off my face, I keep this one on hand for nights when a little something extra is needed to help me relax and fall off into sleep. 

* * * * *

Will any of these changes make the critical difference of getting me some clean sleep?  I can't say for sure. But the simple act of making these changes gives me a calm confidence that anything is possible, and that is a wonderful first step. 

clock | amazon

diffuser | amazon

eucalyptus oil | amazon

pillowcase | amazon

Life Changing

Can $18 change your life? Yes. The answer is yes. 

Unscrew the lid and breathe in. 

Peppermint

Grapeseed oil.

The fragrance is fresh and light and natural. 

Smells like clean.

Pour some out into your hand. 

Pleasingly silky and smooth. 

Rich and just the right amount of thick.

Spread it in your hair.

Feel your scalp tingle

Gently rub it through your hair.

You can almost hear your hair saying, "Ahhhh. Thank you."

Rinse it out and towel dry. 

Feel the comb slide through tangle free hair

Look in the mirror and notice an immediate difference.

Know that your life has changed.  

* * * * *

Look, I like a good beauty product as much as the next girl. But I'm quite lazy about seeking them out.

You know, it's easy enough to select the first thing that jumps out at me in the Target aisles or more likely, buy whatever my daughters are using. But every now and then, I realize that there has got to be a better alternative to my current shampoo and actually do some research to sort out my current hair dilemma:

Dry, listless locks.

A decided lack of previously springy curls

An itchy, burning rash on any part of my skin that my current shampoo and conditioner touch. 

It took me many months to get here but it finally dawned on me that I needed something different.

This realization led me on a happy Google search that has blown my mind.

My hair doesn't need shampoo at all. 

What it needs, apparently, is DevaCurl No Poo-Zero Lather Cleansing Conditioner.

And now that my hair is smooth and soft and happy again, it is no stretch at all to say that my life has truly changed. 

Confessions Of A Crazy Plant Lady

Page Doctor Freud.
Dial up the crisis hotline. or
Cue me up a podcast that will help me learn to cope

Because I have got a serious problem.
With houseplants.

Allow me to illustrate.

As you walk through my front door, this is what you will see:

A series of four big jungly plants standing in a row and soaking up sunshine along my living room window. Each plant is supposed to be crisp and distinct; the overall effect is designed to be orderly and clean.

However, there is a fatal flaw in the execution of this plan that becomes quite apparent when you look a bit closer.

Several dozen interlopes have wandered in. 

Succulents.

Cacti

Trailers

Tree types

You name it

During the dark Pacific Northwest winter, these invaders have all come here seeking a place in the sunny south side window. In order to fit them all in, a second table has been wedged in behind the first, and still  plants overflow onto the floor. Together, they create a muddled, unseemly mess and I don't like how this looks at all. 

But let's be honest. These plants didn't walk in here on their own. I stashed them here because they desperately needed more sun than they were getting elsewhere in the house. And as much as I like to pretend that someday I will move them back, I also know that is not true. These plants simply will not thrive anywhere but here, and that gives me a huge problem. 

I have more plants than my house can handle. 

Not one or two more plants.

At least twenty too many.*

I hear what you're saying. 

Give them away. 

Find new owners on Craigslist or pass them out to your friends. 

Lots of people would love a free plant. 

They will be happy in their new homes

And I see the wisdom of that. But I can't.

They are my children, my gorgeous leafy and sometimes prickly green children, and they love living here in this glorious sunshine.

I can't part with them. But I can't live with them like this either. 

And so I contemplate my problem and try out new arrangements and consider buying grow lights, and those are all reasonable ways to resolve this mess.

But here comes the dysfunctional part. 

I want to buy more plants. 

Oh yes, I do.

And if someone doesn't come and take away my debit card, or possibly break my arm, I'm going out on Monday to buy one more plant.

And when I say one, I probably mean five. 

So please, someone tell Doctor Freud to fluff the pillows on his couch and keep the inkblots handy because I truly, desperately need help.

* There are at least ten more interloping plants currently being held in my bathtub upstairs. I don't know what to do with them, either. 

* * * * *

In my opinion, you can never have too many succulents, and you can never have too many stories about succulents. Here are a few to choose from:

Court And Kylee's Succulent Party

Succulent Season

Franklin Park Conservatory

Confessions Of A Crazy Plant Lady

Pallet Possibilities

Another Rainy Day

Growing Things

This Is War

All In A Day's Work

Design Dilemmas

Wait For It

Shopping Spree

Saturday Spring Satisfaction

Sprouts

Tiny Tinsel Tree

Biology 101

Little Things

Look Who's Three!

Three years have passed since my bouncy baby, Gracie, wiggled her way into this world. Seems strange to realize that she has still lived most of her life without me, but we are changing that with every passing day.

You may recall that Gracie was born in Florida to a litter of eight - four girls and four boys. At a tender age, she and one of her sisters flew across the country to Oregon, where they settled into life with four other dogs and their mistress on a horse farm outside Portland. In many ways, life there was idyllic - and I know that because I've see the photos - but Gracie longed for more human companionship. So after about a year, she was sent off to live as the one-and-only dog of a man in the Seattle suburbs. Sadly, last summer he was diagnosed with cancer, and through a series of serendipitous connections, Gracie found her way to us.

To me. 

My fourth-born sent me this photo when I was away in South Korea for two weeks this fall. For all her blind devotion to me, Gracie thrived while I was gone and I'm proud of her resiliency. 

I didn't think I was ready for a new pup. My heart was still wrapped up in the lovely life I shared with my good dog, Ranger; still fragile from fighting the long shadows of death as they had slowly crept up and overtaken him. 

Still, I knew right away Gracie was meant to be mine. You should have seen her the first time she came into our house. Wanting to see how she would respond, I allowed her to nose through the front door, pulled off her leash, and turned her loose to explore. She sailed though every room in the house, upstairs and down, exploring every corner, her tail on maximum wag. Happy and excited, she bubbled with enthusiasm and joy.

I do love me a high-energy dog. 

My favorite (so far) photo of my dog on the run at Kalaloch Beach. 

A few fun facts about dates:

Gracie came to us on July 9, 2017. Exactly eight days after Ranger's birthday on July 1. 

And her birthday today, on January 12, is exactly eight days before the day that Ranger died, January 20, 2017.

You may call that coincidence, but I see those numbers as a lovely trail of bread crumbs laid out by God to remind me that life leads to death leads to life. 

Taken on our walk today, just after we passed the girls. 

Every day with my girl, Gracie, is an adventure in high spirits and infinite spunk. Here is a birthday story that shows exactly what I mean.

We were out on our walk this afternoon as the last light of day was fading from the sky. A damp drizzle fell quietly upon us as we strolled along the deserted sidewalks. Unfazed by the gloom, Gracie bounded up the drive from the high school practice fields, through the perimeter fence, and sprinted up the slope to see if there was any action on the soccer field today. 

It's been months since she was rewarded with the sight of humans kicking a ball around but she is an eternally optimistic girl.

I noticed two high school girls walking along the lane toward us, both wearing bulky backpacks and carrying clarinet cases. 

I watched them watch my dog putting on her little show, and even in the almost-dark, I saw smiles on their faces.

In a flash, Gracie realized the field was empty yet again, and giving up on that pursuit, came barreling back toward me. As she circled around, she finally noticed the two girls coming toward us, and in her usual instinctive way, she froze in her tracks to observe the girls. Wagging her whole body from her shoulders to the tip of her tail, Gracie beamed at them, radiating happiness and delight 

The girls noticed the effect. One of them called, "I love your dog!"

As we walked past each other, I added, "And I can see she loves you, too."

In the darkness, I once again saw their faces light up with smiles.

This is why I celebrate every day with Gracie, and I look forward to seeing what happens in her fourth year of life!

Wellness Of The Soul

Eliminating the things you love is not wellness. 

Wellness feeds your soul and makes you feel good. -Iman

Here we are, ten days into the new year, and from what I can see, the resolution game is still strong.

Wellness seems to be a hot topic for 2018 resolutions. I'm seeing granola bars and tangerines in my students' family cookie plates and candy dishes, and folks wearing fitbits walking briskly around the neighborhood whom I have never seen before. 

And that's good. Diet and exercise matter. I am all for fresh fruit.

But I wonder if there is more to wellness than pulse rates and BMI counts. 

To be honest, I'm done beating myself up over the state of my body. I do the best that I can to eat right and exercise, and I am learning to forgive myself for my inevitable imperfections. 

I am more concerned with the wellness of my mind and my soul. 

Quite by accident, I listened to a podcast yesterday that suggested the following exercise: 

Define three things about yourself that have always been true. For a point of reference, look back to who you were in kindergarten, and connect the dots between that person and who you are today. 

Here's what I came up with:

1. Visual storyteller

2. Compassionate listener

3. Organized doer

The idea is to let those qualities lead you into making decisions about your life. Let them become your own personal North Star, a true and unchanging picture of who you are, and a guide to where you should go. Move in the direction of those parts of yourself; set priorities so that you can not only exercise but grow in these characteristics. 

It's been less than 24 hours since I formulated my list but I've already noticed that my head feels clear and more certain. I see which parts of my life connect with this newly defined concept of who I am, and which parts do not. I'm energized to try new things in 2018, confident that I will be able to tell what's good for me, and what's not so good.

To me, this new picture of myself feels like the emotional equivalent of at bite from a fresh, snappy apple. It's only a first step, but my soul feels well indeed

Birthday Roses

These are my birthday roses. 

Now normally, I prefer the simple roses that grow in my garden. Just five or six petals, easy and carefree, they glow in the sunshine and flutter like light-hearted butterflies.

But my birthday roses show me something far more complex. The rows of ruffled petals circle round and round, doubling back on themselves, repeating patterns but never quite the same. Some lie in deep shadow, others fan out into the light. Each petal is different and contributes to the beauty of the overall blossom in its own way. And at the center, a new petal waits, still tightly curled but ready to stretch and grow, adding one more layer of fullness and beauty to the flower.

My birthday roses inspire me to love all the birthdays of my past, and prepare me for an exciting new year to come. 

Good And Right

"I love to cook, and I love to have all my family around the dinner table." -Julia Roberts

A few years ago, I started another tradition. See those photos at the far end of the table? They are members of our family who were born in January and have now passed on to the next life. I like to have them with me too.

With my third-born back home for a week over Christmas, I quickly and easily slipped back into my old habit of setting six plates on the table. It felt good and right to do so.

Now it's January. Even though my adventuring daughter has long since hopped a plane back to South Korea, I am still setting a place for her. This may seem silly, odd, or downright neurotic to those who do not have offspring living on the Asian continent, but for me, it feels good and right to do so.

I reset the table every night after dinner and swap the plates around so the sixth plate 

doesn't get dusty. Because that would be weird.

Her plate silently reminds me that, in time, she will be back. And that too feels good and oh, so right. 

Away On A Sofa

Yesterday was the twelfth and final day of Christmas.
Please allow me to honor the close of this festive and holy season with a song.

Ah-h-hem. *clears throat*

^ I do not think my dog is Baby Jesus. But I do think she is ridiculously cute.

Away on a sofa

No crib for a bed

The little lass Gracie 

Lay down her sweet head

The star from the ceiling 

Looks down where she lay

The little lass Gracie 

Asleep on the gray. 

And one last time, let me wish you

Merry Christmas 

Peace On Earth 

and Goodwill To All Men 

[and Dogs] 

2016 Ornament of the Year

Hey, here's an idea for a handmade Christmas ornament.

Cut tiny plastic straws into unmanageably short lengths.

Watch them zing around the room as you do so, and have fun collecting the valuable bits from 

under tables 

behind the couch

in the corners of the fireplace

on the windowsills

under the sleeping dog. 

Good luck with cleaning off all the dust and dog hair, too.

Measure out a long arm's length of thin florist's wire.

Try to not poke out your eye as you cut it off the spool. 

Feed the wire this way and that through the tiny straws, following a sequence of increasingly complex diagrams 

Try not to kink the wire or it will no longer slide through the straw segments

But don't worry; you can always cut the wires on your mistakes and start over. 

Keep some tissues nearby as you may just shed a few tears.

But. If every step of this long and tedious process goes well: 

Hold your breath through the final step, as your flat formation of triangles suddenly transforms into a three-dimensional delight. 

Hang it on the tree where its airy and mathematically pleasing design stands apart from every other ornament in your collection.

Then sit back down and get to work. because you are going to need to make ninety-nine more of these angels before you are done.

And every single one will make you smile.

* * * * *

For more Ornament of the Year posts, check these out:

2022

2021

2020

2019

2018

2017
2016
2015
2014

2013

2012

2011