Bedtime

How many Gloors does it take to screw in a light bulb?

I’m guessing, but I think any of us could manage to change a light bulb all by ourselves. Putting together a bed, however, is another matter. The truth is, it took four of us, a couple of hours, and three beers to put together our brand new king-sized bed.

I know many of my readers right now are thinking Lordy, again with the bed. But it has been a bit of an adventure to get it to where it’s supposed to be.

You might recall that I ordered our bed from Tuft & Needle based on the strong recommendation of my nephew and his wife. Once Bill and I went online and selected the mattress we wanted (and there are only three choices) it was easy as could be to order the mattress, the foundation, and the frame. It probably took 10 minutes of my time. I paid an extra $150 for their White Glove Service. They would then send the bed to a third party company who would deliver the bed, set it up, and remove the old mattress. Or so they said.

However, when the company showed up on Thursday, they unloaded a box with a mattress only. No foundation. They would take our old mattress but not the frame. Since two beds would not fit into our bedroom, we decided to have them take the old mattress, and we would just sleep on the new mattress on the floor. It felt like college again. Only with Parkinson’s and arthritis. Jen scared the delivery men into taking apart the frame and putting it in the garage. I wasn’t surprised. She can be very scary.

After three nights on the mattress on the floor, our box foundation turned up yesterday. It was, of course, not put together. T & N must take lessons from IKEA, because it was in pieces. Somehow we needed to get the mattress that was sitting on the floor upended, so that Bill could put together the box foundation and set it on the bed frame that was leaning against our bedroom window. The mattress weighs in the neighborhood of a thousand pounds. Well, maybe not that much. But too heavy for a man with Parkinson’s, a woman with arthritis, and a woman wearing a sling because she had a full shoulder replacement three weeks ago.

Soon I was on the phone with my brother Dave. Hey Bro, I said. Are you going to be in our neighborhood today anytime and explained our situation. I promised him we only needed him to help us lift the mattress up against the wall because we could surely let it plop down onto the box foundation once it was put together, even with our infirmities.

He arrived very shortly. And in the way that life happens, it wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded. He was able to lift the mattress up against the wall. Bill was able to put together the foundation. But things wouldn’t go together as one would hope. At any given time, every one of us was working on getting the bed together.

The final straw was when the holes on the headboard that I had purchased from Wayfair didn’t line up to the screws on the foundation. I was feeling dejected when I heard the sound of drilling coming from our bedroom. When the holes won’t line up, you make new holes, said Bill.

I know at various times in what became a very long project, we looked like the Keystone Kops. What we lacked in skill, we made up with tenacity. And the result is wonderful…..

But I’m pretty sure next time I call my brother and ask if he has a couple of minutes to help us with an itty bitty problem, he will tell me, “I would love to Kris, but I have to wash my hair.”

Saturday Smile: That’s How It Crumbles, Cookie-Wise

As I mentioned, I have traditionally baked Christmas cookies with some of my grandkids for somewhere in the neighborhood of 12 years. I was sad that I wasn’t going to have that experience this year. But it was a Christmas miracle! Maggie brought Austin and Lilly over to decorate sugar cookies last weekend. I felt like it really was beginning to look a lot like Christmas!,,,,,

Looks like Winston-the-Dog is getting the best deal of all.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: A Christmas Resolution

The books, take place in Victorian England. While apparently including characters that are in the author’s other book series, they are completely stand alone novels. While reference was made to characters that I assume devoted readers would be familiar with, I found it in no way confusing to the book or difficult to follow.

In 2003, author Anne Perry wrote a Christmas novel called A Christmas Journey. Her readers loved the novel, and she has written a Christmas novel a year ever since. Despite the number of Christmas books she has subsequently written, I have read nary a one. Until this year. My sister, who owns and has read every single one of the Perry Christmas books, gave me her latest, A Christmas Resolution, as a gift in the spirit of Christmas. I enjoyed the book so much that I will be reading her earlier books well into 2021.

Though past the normal age of marrying in Victorian England, Celia has found great happiness through marriage to John Hooper, a police officer. She learns that her dear friend Clementine has agreed to marry Seth Marlow, a member of Celia’s church, but a pretty despicable character. His wife committed suicide and his daughter ran away and has become a prostitute in London. Clementine feels sorry for him, but Celia knows he is a very bad man.

Seth comes to Celia and accuses her of sending a letter to him that threatens to tell secrets he doesn’t want told. To save her good name, Celia decides to try and find the real letter writer, as well as the truth about what happened to his wife. Her husband agrees to help.

A Christmas Resolution, while frankly not very Christmasy, was a fun and interesting book to read. I enjoyed the author’s writing, and liked the characters I was supposed to like and disliked those I was supposed to dislike. She presents a strong and realistic picture of Victorian England, and the roles of men and women.

I recommend the book as a merry Christmas read.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

Shaken, Not Stirred
Since I was pretty sick of Christmas movies, Bill and I elected to begin a James Bondathon last night. I have never been a big fan, but Bill enjoyed the series over the years. We started at the beginning (because Julie Andrew’s told us it was a very good place to start in Sound of Music) by watching Dr. No, starring Sean Conway. He was, in my opinion, the sexiest Bond ever. RIP. I love movies that were filmed in the 60s. Love the clothes, the hairdos, the cars, the whole deal. Special effects leave something to be desired, but nevertheless, James Bond got the girl. This time Ursulla Andress.

Big Boy and Girl Bed
Today our brand spanking new king-sized bed is supposed to be delivered. God willing and the creek don’t rise, by tonight, Bill and I won’t be fighting for our lives to keep from being pushed out of bed by the other. The company delivering the bed is supposed to take our old bed and frame, and install the new bed and frame. A friend of mine commented that she was surprised Bill wasn’t cutting up our old bed with my bread knife and putting it in our garbage can. It will be nice to enjoy some legroom as we sleep.

New Colors
Of course a new bed requires a complete redecoration of our bedroom. That’s how things work. The inside of our house is mostly painted in browns and tans, very Aztec. It was a nice change from Denver at first, but now I’m in the mood to brighten things up. I’m told bright whites are in style, and the keyword for me is bright. We went to Sherman Williams to look at paint colors yesterday. We will embark on this process sometime after Christmas. Much as he would like, Bill can’t paint the walls because the ceiling is too high. I would be hanging on to his legs, making it difficult to climb a ladder.

Happy Birthday to Me
I enjoyed my birthday very much. Jen made short ribs and my grammie’s macaroni and cheese. I spent the evening with all of my siblings. Throughout the day I got many birthday greetings via Facebook, FaceTime, phone calls, and texts. It was my 67th trip around the sun, and we celebrated accordingly. Maybe next birthday, we won’t be trapped by a pandemic. Speaking of birthdays, yesterday was Heather’s 44th time around the sun.

Ciao!

Making a List

About now is the time when we start laying out the gifts we have purchased to make sure we haven’t left anyone out. When we have kids or grandkids, we also count to make sure there isn’t one more gift for one than there is for the others. Have we got enough wrapping paper? Bow or no bow? Rats! How could we forget the hair stylist or the housecleaner? Twenty-five dollars for each?

All of that became a bit harder for me this year. The difficulty impacted not only me, but also all of our children. Because of our unexpected decision to stay over the holiday rather than fly home, all of our gifts were purchased online. That isn’t a lot different than last year, except that last year the gifts I purchased online were mostly sent to me to wrap and distribute. The gifts for the Vermonters were sent directly to them, but this year, that was true for all of the gifts. I sat down one afternoon and Christmas shopped. It took me three or four hours to figure out what to get, which store carried which items, place the orders and then have them shipped, not to me, but to the parents of the kids.

For a period of time, nearly every day I was getting emails indicating that a particular package had been sent to one of the households. For a bit, I was taking care to let them know that a package had been delivered. After awhile, however, it seemed like my phone was dinging like Santa’s sleigh, and I simply gave up.

Yesterday morning I decided to look at my emails and see if everything had been delivered. Just like Santa Claus, I made a list and checked it twice…..

Blurred in case one of the grandkids decides to read my blog in an effort to see if they can find out what they got from Nana Kris,

I hadn’t missed anyone. All but one package had been delivered. That package is on its way, perhaps there by now. The next step is up to the parents. They have to keep in mind all of the times we babysat, picked up kids from school, cleaned up after a massive slime-making project, etc., and wrap all of the gifts with a smile.

I have mentioned before that gift wrapping is so not my forte. There is no effort to hide the scotch tape. I haven’t put a bow on a present since the Carter Administration. Gift bags are my friends. So while I’m really trying to feel bad that I’m not spending one whole day wrapping gifts, what I’m really feeling is sheer, unadulterated glee.

Oh, and thanks kids.

Halleluja

Because I was busy celebrating my birthday with my siblings yesterday, I didn’t have time to write a new blog post. Hence, you will have to reread what I did last year for my birthday, in the days before a worldwide pandemic struck and changed our world forever!

The first time I ever heard Handel’s Messiah was when my sister Bec participated in the oratorio as part of a University of Nebraska choir. I was hooked from the first comfort ye my people. In particular, I found the choruses astoundingly beautiful.

In high school, I was part of a chorus, but it wasn’t really a choice. Music class was a required part of our school’s curriculum, but if it had been a choice, I would have taken the class. I love singing with a choir— always have and always will.

So when I entered the University of Nebraska,I followed in my sister’s footsteps and auditioned for the chorus that performed Handel’s Messiah. To this day I don’t know how I managed to be selected. I can carry a tune — or at least I used to be able to carry a tune; now I just sort of warble. However, I do not purport to have a lovely singing voice. The choir director asked me what part I sang. I said alto, not because I firmly believed I was an alto, but because that’s the part Bec sang. f it was good enough for her, it was good enough for me. After my audition, the director told me, “You passed the audition. I’m not convinced, however, that you are an alto.” But I sang the alto part, and I’ve never looked back.

Saturday night, my birthday gift to myself was a ticket to hear the Colorado Bach Ensemble sing the entire Messiah. Singing the entire oratorio is a Big Deal, because it’s long. Three hours long. It’s divided up into three parts — the birth of Christ, Christ’s passion, and the promise of eternal life.

Since I discovered the Colorado Bach Ensemble, I’ve attended their performances of the Messiah. They are always performed in a church. Two years in a row, the church was near our house. This year they moved to a beautiful old Methodist church downtown, with the huge pipe organ and amazing acoustics. I long ago decided I would only go to the Messiah with someone who loves it like I love it. I have no interest in being with someone who is looking at his or her watch, wishing it was over. Bill always says he’ll go, but he would be looking at his watch. Bless his heart.

Last year I went with my friend Megan, who passed away a few months later. My heart is happy that we attended the performance that she loved like me. This year, I was supposed to go with my sister Jen, but weather got in the way. Or at least we thought it was going to get in our way, but the snow they predicted never materialized in Denver. So she stayed home for nothing.

But I had a great runner-up in the wings. My friend Lynne also performed the Messiah when she was younger, and loves it like I love it. We took Lyft to the church. The downtown church provided for a bit of a different experience. Like the homeless man sitting in the front of the church wearing a Santa Claus hat and quietly directing the orchestra and vocalists. Bless his heart.

Over the years, I’ve learned to appreciate not only the music, but the message as well. I am unable to listen to the concluding chorus, Worthy is the Lamb, without crying, partly from its sheer beauty, but mostly from the message that Jesus is the Messiah and died to save us all, an undeniably worthy savior.

It put me in the Christmas spirit, and reminded me of why we celebrate Christ’s birth.

We’re Going to a Party Party

You say it’s your birthday
It’s my birthday too, yeah
They say it’s your birthday
We’re gonna have a good time
I’m glad it’s your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

The Beatles

I don’t think anyone will think that I’m tooting my own birthday horn or fishing for presents when I tell you that today is my birthday. After all, I’m not quite as happy about it as is my great niece Lilly as she looks forward to her birthday. Hers is over a month away, but countdown has already begun. She will be 7. I have 60 years on her, so the excitement level is much more subtle.

As for presents, I guess I have just about everything I could possibly want. Bill bought me the birthday gift of my dreams: a portable puzzle desk WITH DRAWERS. That way when Jen has to do that thing for which she is paid — that is, her JOB — I can take my puzzle with me to the kitchen to continue the fun. Bec got me a very cute Christmas top that I’ve already worn and gotten considerable number of compliments. Taking selfies is a painful experience for me, which is why it looks more like I’m grimacing than looking happy. Despite the look on my face, I love the shirt.,,,,

I wasn’t always this lackadaisical about my birthday. When I was turning 7, like Lilly, I too looked forward to my birthday. Sometimes I got a bakery cake, but more often I got an angel food cake with sprinkles in it made by my mother. With a dollop of Cool Whip, it was my favorite cake at that time. My birthday was two weeks before Christmas (well, it still is…) which was just enough before Christmas that I still got many presents. My brother didn’t fare quite as well. His birthday is December 28, and people were (and are) sick of everything by that point. I don’t think he got a homemade birthday cake his entire formative years. In fact, one year he got a cake baked and decorated at Gloor’s Bakery but not picked up by the person who ordered it. No Happy Birthday Dave. Instead, it said Happy Birthday Frank from Friends. Not only did we not know who Frank was, we were certainly not his friends.

My brother reminded me that we always picked up our Christmas tree on my birthday. It always seemed so long a wait until Christmas, he recalled the other day. Now it seems like Christmas is so close. So true. My birthday was always the focus point of the Christmas season. I, like my parents, always bought and put up my tree on my birthday. Back in the days when I sent out Christmas cards, they were sealed and ready to mail on my birthday. The Christmas card ship sailed a very long time ago.

Tonight Jen is preparing me my very favorite meal — short ribs. Short ribs are no one else in my family’s favorite meal, but that’s just too bad. Lilly is my mentor: Too bad, so sad. I will be more than happy to make your birthday favorite on your birthday. My sisters and brother, as well as my husband, will be there to celebrate with me.

Can’t really ask for anything more.

Saturday Smile: My Heart

As part of his first grade learning program, our 6-year-old grandson Cole had to write a letter to someone. I am happy — so happy — that he chose me. The letter arrived yesterday. The letter itself was sweet. He asked me how my trip to Arizona was going, and told me he had a good Valentine’s Day. Nice to hear, though I’m pretty sure he meant Thanksgiving. But what made me smile was the envelope. Outside of the envelope, he unabashedly proclaimed his love of his Nana Kris…..

I particularly loved how his hearts began to morph into what appears to me to be ice cream cones. Now, that’s real love.

I love you too Cole.

Friday Book Whimsy: Shepherds Abiding

Shepherds Abiding

My favorite Christmas book – one I read every year – is Shepherds Abiding, a Mitford novel by Jan Karon.

The theme is familiar – what is really important about Christmas? Our favorite priest, Father Tim, brings about Christmas joy to all of those he meets throughout the season in the delightful town of Mitford. As for himself, he – who always considers himself a man of thought and not a man who works with his hands, takes on the challenge of bringing back to life a terribly neglected and badly damaged Nativity set to give to his wife for Christmas. There is a delightful “Gift of the Magi” twist to the story that I won’t give away. Shepherds Abiding gives dedicated readers a deeper look at some of the Mitford family. It also gives the reader a sense of what Christmas is like in a small town.

I read this novel every Christmas as part of my effort to remember what the holiday season is really all about.

Thursday Thoughts

Ho Ho Ho
Up until a few years ago, on Thanksgiving Day I started wearing Christmas sweaters. I bought a new one each year, and owned many, enough so that I could wear a new sweater to work nearly every day until Christmas. But they started getting old and beads on the Christmas trees and snowmen began falling off. Furthermore, the schtick sort of wore off and the sweaters began looking a little too, well, Christmasy, even for my taste. So I tucked them into a drawer. There they stayed until a couple of years ago when my grandkids started borrowing them every year for the annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest sponsored by their church youth group. And they almost always won because they were, indeed, ugly. The tradition continues, though these sweaters aren’t even close to as ugly as mine. I received this photo from Vermont, featuring Joseph and Micah in their Christmas duds…..

I’m particularly taken with the one-sock-on-one-sock-off look.

Desert Life
Jen took Winston for a walk the other day, and I tagged along. There is a path not far from our AZ house that borders the desert, with Superstition Mountain in the background. It is the same path on which my sisters and I encountered a rattlesnake a number of years ago. No rattlesnakes during this hike, I’m pleased to say. I reckon they are hibernating for the winter. We enjoyed the weather and the view….

I admit that desert landscape looks like there would be a rattlesnake lurking, doesn’t it?

That’s How It Crumbles, Cookiewise
This weekend, we are planning on doing some cookie baking with Maggie and her kids. Every Christmas season, I have some iteration of grandkids involved in Christmas cookie baking. It makes me sad that I will miss that time with them this year…..

…..but Lilly and Austin will make fine stand-ins. Lilly informed us that she doesn’t like sugar cookies. Her mother Maggie says that’s a bunch of nonsense, and of course she likes sugar cookies. We’ll see who’s right. But Lilly has suggested snickerdoodles and M&M cookies using Christmas M&Ms. Good choices. I might throw in a batch of peanut butter blossom cookies, as they are a Christmas tradition.

Swiss Zopf
When my dad and mom owned the bakery in Columbus, every Christmas, among the traditional holiday treats that Dad baked was a loaf of braided bread. The bread was delicious, and we sold loaf after loaf after loaf. We closed the bags using curling ribbon, and my fingers got sore from curling red and green ribbon. A couple of years ago, I checked the internet to see if I could find the bread recipe. Lo, and behold, I learned that the bread is called Zopf, and it is a traditional Swiss holiday bread. Last year, I made a loaf that I think was marginally successful. It looked better than it tasted, as I recall…..

For the first time in a zillion years, I will be in the same town — a 15 minute drive away, in fact — from my brother, who can help me make Zopf. One of my Christmas gratitudes.

Ciao.