The doll bed moves in!

There's nothing quite like Christmas morning with children. Especially GRANDchildren. Emily and Jack were delighted with what Santa brought them--a Calico Critter dollhouse and a John Deere outdoor riding tractor. They waited very patiently for the rest of the family to arrive before opening their gifts.

The last item opened was the doll bed. I'd wrapped it without a name and Emily had shown great curiosity about it when it first arrived on Christmas Eve. It had, however, been shoved to the back of her mind with the advent of all the other goodies.

She was quite pleased with it but didn't "move in" until later in the day. After we went home, her parents moved it up to her room and her dolls moved in. Her mother reports that after lights out, Emily and Jack were up playing with it!

Yeah!

The doll bed is finished!

Complete with mattress pad, sheet set, three pillows and reversible comforter. All times two.

Whew!

Now... how am I going to wrap it?

The doll bed, Day 1

Lesson: One is never too old to be naive. Or unrealistic, whichever fits.

So, a month ago while we're working on projects for the library bazaar, we're at a friend's barn and workshop indulging in her husband's drills and looking for screws and sanding like the little bazaar elves we are. I happen to look up and there, atop a metal file cabinet which came with the barn, is what looks to be a bunk bed built for a doll. I tell the owner if she ever wishes to dispose of it, call me first. And, being the friend that she is, she says it came with the place, she doesn't want it, knock myself out.

Truer words were never spoken.

I'm thinking, aha! Christmas present for Emily, 4 1/2 year-old granddaughter who's into dolls and all things pink. I'll just strip this down, paint it to match her room, make fresh bedding for it, and voila! Christmas gift.

Naive. Or unrealistic.

Looking at the wallpaper which covered the bed's foundation, I'm guessing this was made in the 60s. Having worked on it for a while, I'm thinking it was home made. And the paint? Oh, the paint was glued on.

Realizing that the wonderful weather we're having isn't going to last forever and stripping paint is really an outdoor task, I determined today was the day. I bought neoprene gloves and found that stripper is now available spray on. Perfect for small projects. I bought a can. Guaranteed to remove three coats of latex, stain, and all matter in between.

Tsk, tsk. Did I really believe that?

I set up shop outside, cut a garbage bag to catch the drips, put on the gloves, and started spraying. In the meantime, I read the directions where they hinted that a plastic scraper would come in handy. Never mind that, I had grade 3 steel wool saved from a long-ago project. Never dispose of (de)construction items.

About 45 minutes later I realized two things: I needed more stripper and a plastic scraper would come in handy. As well as a little brush for getting into the lovely turns on the spindles of the bed.

Three hours and a trip to Walmart later, I'm in possession of an extra pair of gloves, two more packages of steel wool, a scraper, a brush, and the last two cans of stripper on the shelf. I'm also calling it a day.

The paint is simply not coming off the bottom inside rails of the bed. My glove fingers are sticking (stuck) to one another. I'm tired of sitting in the damp grass. While I may actually spray more stripper on the little, no-fuss-how-much-time-can-this-take project, I'm going to sandpaper it first.

Just as soon as I have a conversation with my generous friend.

Presenting the presents

Before we start buying Christmas presents, I make a list of giftees and possible gifts. It then becomes a fill-in-the-blank exercise, adding anything we find on the great shopping weekend, which took place this year in November. All of these gifts, left in their store bags, stack in my sewing room where I can step over them until it's time for the grand wrapping.

Usually, I haul the paper and ribbon into the sewing room, pick a sack and start. I check off the items as they're wrapped.

This year, I decided to do it a bit differently. I moved everything down in to the breakfast room, turned on the TV (not available in the sewing room), and wrote out a new list as I wrapped. Ms. Efficiency. Or so I thought.

I hadn't wrapped anything in a day or two, the Christmas card sack was in use instead, when I happened to go into my sewing room and, klutz that I can be, dropped something. I'm looking for it on the floor--and see, to my consternation--more presents! They were tucked under the cutting table. I'd bought them on a vastly reduced sale back in the summer. I immediately remembered them. It's just that the Christmas list didn't exist then.

They are now wrapped, and I've scoured the place once more for hidden treasure. I haven't found it, but I'm keeping an eye open.

Happy Valentine's, anyone?

All wrapped up

I'm wrapping the Christmas presents, actually putting bows on them this year. I pulled down the paper I'd bought over the last several years and determined to use it up before buying any more. I'm sure you know where this is headed.

I decided that I didn't like some it. The scenes weren't right. I think I'd won it at a pre-school raffle. So I set it aside. Plus, some of what I have is thinner than I'd like. And I've had it a long time and not used it...

But I still had enough. If I ran out of paper, I have lots of bags I've saved from previous Christmases.

Then I was at World Market and saw this great paper. Brown with forest animals. Half-price. Bought two. No more, I told myself.

That lasted until I was at Hobby Lobby and their prices are great and there was this red paper with reindeer. And I do love reindeer...

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

I feel the Season comin' on!

I may regret these words: For the first time in a while, I'm actually looking forward to the coming Nov/Dec holiday season madness. It's not that I've dreaded it in the recent past, but something this year just seems to be making it special and I can't put my finger on it.

We've had a wonderful autumn so far, a lovely trip to Napa which allowed us to skip the bad rainy local weather all the while enjoying the sunshine of California and the company of family. We've seen fun musicals throughout the Dallas summer musical season and then I've seen two other productions this weekend. Our grandson will be baptized in our home church in a month and four days after that, we'll have all close family and in-laws here to celebrate that most American of the big three, Thanksgiving.

I've been working on handmade Christmas gifts for the daughters-in-law and having a bunch of fun doing it. I've made out the official Christmas list and it is daunting, as usual. But we'll work on it. Christmas itself will be with the grandchildren. What a delight--maybe this year we can all be healthy and not ill like last year.

I have a cold myself right now, but it's not the flu. It's a cold, the result of hot/cold temps coupled with rain and damp. Nothing a hot toddy can't cure and I think I'll go have one right now.

The greening of my fruits and vegetables

For some time now, I've noticed the Debbie Meyer Green Bags at Wal-Mart and other retailers. A package sells for $10 and is supposed to keep the new in fruits and veggies stored therein. Skeptic that I am, I mentally pooh-pooh'ed the idea (what a gimmick!) and moved on.

Then I sat at lunch with friends who are not easily fooled and somehow the conversation turned to products we were surprised that worked. Guess what was number one on everyone's list? Yep, the green bags.

Never one to fall behind in the newest gadget and gizmo category, I bought a package. Knowing how susceptible my green bananas were to turning black almost overnight, I made them my guinea pigs and put a bunch in.

Well, wasn't that nifty? I was able to enjoy them all.

What else might Ms. Meyer have up her sleeve? At another retailer, I found red bags for cold cuts, blue for cheese, and beige for bread. And yes, I do own them all.

How have they held up to their promise? The red seems to be doing well by the salami and the cheeses, which we consume in rather large quantities, but not always quickly, is okay, too. The bread and I are not getting along as well, but it could be that I'm storing so-called artisan breads in it and then not eating them as quickly as a normal family would. I haven't thrown them out.

On the other hand, the rest of the family had better take note: Christmas! I've packaged several sets, one for each daughter-in-law's kitchen and one for the large family gift exchange. I'll be able to explain to the DILs how great they are, but I've put a warning label on the one that might get lost in all the family hoopla: "Don't laugh until you try them."

I know I shouldn't have.

That feeling of relief

Should you be on our Christmas list (and it's doubtful that those who are are reading this), then I can give you a feeling of relief. Despite the previous blog about being behind on Christmas gift-buying, we made a monumental step forward this weekend at a wonderful new book store in Plano called Legacy Books. According to its PR, it's the largest independent bookstore to open in decades.

And all I have to say is: "Yeahhhh!!!"

It is gorgeous: open-air, two stories with a mezzanine full of romance and paranormal and mystery. There's a coffee shop and a cooking demo range. The cookbook section alone is worth a trip. The children's--wonderful. I found two books on my list that I've looked for elsewhere and come up only with "may be ordered." I might "may be order" a book for myself, but I want to see and hold and read what goes to my granddaughter or for a baby gift.

So, it goes without saying what most people on our Christmas list are getting: a book. As an author, I heartily approve my choice.

About to be the Season

Has it really been over a week since I last blogged? Egad! Where have I been?

Right here. Not doing anything special. I did go to Canton First Monday trade days on Saturday and that was wonderful, not that I bought much but the weather was so lovely. The trees were changing color and maybe that's what I've been doing: looking instead of blogging, although I did manage to write on my new book.

So, it was an ah-ha oh-no moment when I realized that it was the first of November and my Christmas list had yet to be made. In my younger days, the ones with young children and no computer/Internet, where I actually cooked full meals instead of trying to see if a meat, veggie, and bowl of fruit would satisfy us, I started my Christmas list and therefore, my Christmas shopping, in August. That was even before we exchanged names within the larger half the family or, as we do now, a Chinese gift exchange where I'm responsible for just two presents. (Other than the children of course. Children always get presents.)

So, there was really no excuse for just now getting down to business. As I drove to Dallas Saturday afternoon, my husband pulled out a small notebook and we started taking notes and actually discussing who/what. (This differs from previous years when I'd be asked on Christmas Eve--as we put all the presents into the car--if we had something for everyone and what it was. No comment.)

Once home, I transcribed our notes into something more legible. How did this get away from me? We've a grandson due any day now, so I really need to get cracking on this, as I know where my mind and heart are going to be. My saving grace may be the Internet. My gosh, had we had it 25 years ago, I might have finished by July!

Don't try this if you're rural--or live near water

Who doesn't love all the catalogs which start arriving at your door in October? And again, two weeks later... and two after that... and then with a new cover as a special Christmas sale just at Thanksgiving. I don't have the nerve--nor the disposable space--to save them all until January and then do a count and weight, although I suppose I could count them. Make a spreadsheet or something.

I flip through and shake each as they arrive, making sure no bill or credit card come-on has slipped between the pages. I keep those I've found intriguing and throw the rest. Mailbox, me, trash. It's a quick trip for most.

Those which make the intriguing list usually have coupons attached to the cover or come from museums or classy magazines, such as the subject of today's blog, The National Geographic.

Growing up, I remember the familiar yellow covers that came monthly. I'd look through them, fascinated, although I doubt I read many articles all the way through. Like Playboy, these were much more interesting for their pictures. But their shopping catalog is classy and fun and I fell under its spell.

While our children, like everyone else's no doubt, really like the check in the Christmas card, (or preferably, cash, since that'll save them a trip to the bank), I think everyone needs gifts to open on Christmas morning. Call them stocking stuffers, if you will, they're under the tree and the cats and Santa have frequently signed the cards.

Now, should you be a child of mine and reading this post and don't want to know what the cats are getting you for Christmas, you should stop now. If you don't care, read on.

Buried in the pages of the NG catalog was a puzzle. Not just any puzzle, mind you, but a 400-piece one of where you live, mapping courtesy of the US Geological Survey. It would cover 4 miles by 6 and have, as its center, a piece shaped like a house. Unique and so interesting and just right priced for the cats to purchase, I bit and ordered three. Santa was not going to leave me out of this!

Since my sons live close together, I chose one to be a first residence, up in Maine by Casco Bay. The cats may not be making any points with this gift because...

I'm putting my puzzle together. 400 pieces. 12x18. How hard could this be? If you have to ask... I live in a rural area. There, in the center of the puzzle is my house piece and the surrounding city limits. (The Survey must be a few years old because there are missing highways.) And then there's nothing. White space divided by contour lines and red dashes and numbers which mean nothing to me. I got the city put together and found the five main roads which lead out of town. The railroads. If there were telephone poles, I'd be following them next. What I thought would take an hour has become a three day project and I'm not finished yet. Every spare five minutes finds me hovering over this behemoth which beckons from the table in the living room.

So, the son with the city map should be okay in following streets and landmarks. But the one with Casco Bay... all that blue... and, no, the cats are not putting it together for him.