It’s another Christmas question, so try to get your jolly on.
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When I was a teenager my mother had a close friend she insisted I call aunt though we weren’t related . She was a career woman when women didn’t have careers and rose to a senior position with Time/Life. A wealthy widow with two grown sons, she was extremely intelligent and quite eccentric.
To be honest, she was loaded. Both financially and physically… the old gal liked her scotch.
Having New England roots she was also tight as a tick when it came to spending money. The electric bill could sour her mood for days and she wore clothes that were so threadbare the moths didn’t even bother nibbling. She constantly added milk to chowder to stretch it’s longevity and only went out to dinner if someone else was paying. She cut her own hair, never bought a new car and had drawers full of used tin foil. When she retired she had money enough to travel the world but chose to sit home and clip coupons, waiting for hamburger to go on sale.
But when it came to Christmas? That’s when she really outdid herself. Presents were wrapped in newspaper with leftover butcher’s twine for ribbon. She thought it was fun to give dozens of gifts and watch you squeal with delight when you opened them. Problem was … there was never anything worth squealing about. Quantity not quality made her happy.
Over the years I received toilet paper, toothpaste, tiny bars of soap and shampoo as well as plastic ice buckets. All of which she lifted from various hotel rooms. She traveled a lot for work and the woman never passed up a freebie. I had to say thank you for swizzle sticks, matchbooks and little paper umbrellas. Have you ever pretended to be over joyed with ketchup packets and those little square jelly containers? Trust me, it’s not easy.
So in answer to the question … the weirdest Xmas gift I’ve ever received?
A matching set of barf bags from TWA.
Festively wrapped in the New York Times and the envy of all my friends.
It wasn’t haute cuisine but the sandwiches were halfway decent and every meal ended with an ice cream sundae so no one really cared.
The other day when my friend and I were out shopping, it was literally the only place around so we stopped in for lunch.
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I vaguely remembered their Big Beef being a sizable burger and decided to take a trip down memory lane.
That was a big mistake.
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What the holy hell!
At first I thought they’d fried an egg on my burger but that was cheese.
A cheese ‘skirt’ to be precise. And though you’d think it would be hard to go wrong with half a plate full of cheese… they managed, because it was awful. Greasy on top, hard as rock on the bottom.
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And the Big Beef?
The only thing Big was my disappointment because the Beef was practically non existent… not to mention well done and crunchy.
The waiter at this restaurant may have been friendly, but the food certainly wasn’t.
I drove home under some ominous skies the other afternoon.
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And woke up to our first dusting of snow.
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It was gone by mid day just in time for our contractor to drop by between jobs and seal up the new windows with some not so attractive foam.
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He’s finishing off a barn next door that’s taking longer than planned but as soon as he’s done he’ll be back over here to finish our nightmare project.
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As usual, Lord Dudley Mountcatten couldn’t care less.
As you know, my husband miraculously parted with one of his motorcycles earlier this year. We really don’t ride much anymore and while it was the right thing to do… I know it was hard for him. Admitting you’re getting older is never easy and I daresay a piece of his youth drove off with that Kawasaki.
Of course he still has the Harley. Which is why I was extremely surprised when I saw him outside last week giving her a bath in anticipation of someone coming over to look at it.
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He bought the low rider back in 2009 from a friend whose brother had died. Not riding himself and knowing how much love and money his brother put into it, the friend was glad to see it go to a good home.
And believe me, serious money was invested in a complete remodel shortly before the owner passed.
$27,000 worth of serious.
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My husband paid a fraction of that and though we’ve owned it for quite a while, I have to admit we don’t ride it very often.
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See that tiny rear seat?
It doesn’t match my (not so tiny) rear seat and made long trips something to be avoided.
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We took it for short hops, and won a few bike show trophies… but for the most part she’s lived under cover in the garage.
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Which if you know anything about motorcycles and old Harleys in particular… is not a good thing.
Yes, someone is interested in buying her but unfortunately she’s not running right now. Won’t even start as a matter of fact… and there’s no telling how much money we’ll have to sink in her to make that happen.
Every Thanksgiving I’m asked to bring my Crab Toasties appetizer. And since I rarely make them at home because my husband doesn’t like crabmeat… I’m happy to oblige.
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It’s a treat that takes a good chunk of 💰 seeing that fresh crabmeat is currently $30 a pound and I doubled the batch and needed two pounds, but holidays are made for splurging.
Use fresh crabmeat… do not, I repeat DO NOT! use canned… here’s the recipe.
It’s quick, easy to make and oh so yummy.
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** Crab Toasties **
1 pound cooked crabmeat 1 cup mayonnaise 1 cup mozzarella cheese
1/2 teaspoon black pepper 1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 package Thomas English muffins
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Mix first 5 ingredients together
Quarter English muffins and arrange on cookie sheet.
Spread crab mixture on muffins heavily, sprinkle with paprika and parsley flakes if desired.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until golden brown.
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Easy peasy, nice and cheesy.
Line cookie sheet with parchment paper for quick clean up.
And as much as I shudder at the idea of another potential disaster, replacing this floor is the next project on my list.
The carpet is old and was put in by the previous owner in 2002.
It’s time.
We’ll be replacing the carpet in our bedrooms, but for the living/dining room and main hall we’re thinking luxury vinyl plank.
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Since I refuse to replace every baseboard, door and piece of window trim as well as the built in bookcases and fireplace mantle …. I’ll need to stay in that honey tone of wood.
Question is – do I go light?
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Or dark?
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I love online stores who have this app. Visuals are everything when choosing floors.
Our contractor says he might be able to install the floor in late December so I need to start shopping seriously now.
Armed with a broken piece of trim, my girlfriend and I hit a few floor retailers.
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Too grey.
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Too brown.
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The frustrating part? I came home with three samples that all looked different at home than they did in the store. Heck, they look different from room to room.
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Nope.
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Ugh. Even worse.
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This has the same hue, though it’s more rustic than I wanted. Pulling it up on the app, it looked muted.
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Though in this picture the color striations are more pronounced.
My husband goes to breakfast with “ the boys” every Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning. Three different restaurants, three different groups of “boys”. I don’t join him because they’re standing tall at the doors when the places open at 5:30am. That, and the fact they love to argue politics before the sun comes up is more than enough to keep me away.
The waitresses at all three restaurants know them, enjoy their business and treat them like family.
This is evidenced by one of the server’s response when a certain sarcastic fellow was giving her a hard time.
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No, it wasn’t my husband.
But he did take the picture of these anatomically correct eggs I’m sharing with you now.
Waitresses.
Ya gotta love ‘em.
🤣
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 