My Silly Valley

Roasting at an open fire

Kayla and Walter think they've died and gone to heaven. Mom's letting them roast marshmallows over the fireplace. Kayla cooks them slowly and evenly. Walter either barely warms them or does it the flame-all-around way. Whatever the method, the warm gooey mess is soon all over their faces, hands and -- of course -- the carpet.

Sort of a white Christmas

We enjoyed decorating the tree with beautiful snowflakes, angels and other ornaments embroidered by Grammie. She sent us a whole bunch of these beautiful designs last year, and we'll look forward to decorating with them every Christmas.  Walter got to put up the first one.

Love that face

Not to mention those ears. We're finding out just how sweet she is. She's very quiet and mellow, and she slept right on the foot of my bed last night. Awwwwwwwwwww.

Little lady Lucy

Well, we did it. We got us a new puppy dog. Her name is Lucy and she is a little salt-and-pepper mini schnauzer.

She's about half the size of Jack, and feels really little when we hold or pet her! We got her from a breeder near Los Banos. She is 2.5 years old and has been retired from being a mommy dog.

As you can see from the picture, her ears aren't cropped -- we're happy about that and love the little floppy things!  She is quiet as a mouse and seems to be adjusting to us OK.  We're going to take her down to Caffe Adria now to introduce her to the wonders of bagels!

All I want for Christmas ...

Kayla told Santa she wants two things for Christmas.

A homework kit. To do her homework with. I think this is a suggestion her teacher made to help her be more organized, not realizing that by suggesting we bring One More Thing into our lives we would actually be swallowed by the Sea O' Clutter.

And a dog.

My heart rolled over inside when I heard this. I want a dog, too.  I actually want one very specific hairy, goofy, yappy, annoying, cuddly black dog who sleeps on his back and likes to get under the covers with me. But that dog got run over by a car three weeks ago. Santa, can you bring us Jack back, please?

Kayla insists there's nothing else she wants.

Granger wants the XBox 360, but I can't see myself investing in yet another game console. Don't we play enough games, IM enough, chat on MySpace enough? Do we really need another interactive device? Oh yeah and it costs $300 and that is without any games.

OK then, Mom, he said. Then a dog. I want a dog.

Video game console or dog.  Santa? Help.

Everything inside me tells me it's not a great idea to get a puppy on Christmas.  (Not that we'd be getting a puppy -- I want a dog at least a couple of years old, housetrained. We'll rescue one if we can find one.)  But everything inside me tells me that this family, this poor sad broken little family needs a dog to help it feel better.

Someone with a short stubby tail to wag and ears to stand up tall.  A turned little face and hopefully the ability to smile with a real toothy smile -- just like Jack had.  If she could have hindquarters that shift as she rockets around the park, that would help, too.  It would make me miss my Jack more than ever but it always made me laugh, too.

I need advice. Help.

Postage paid

Usually about this time of year I'm frantically packing boxes, tying up loose ribbons and sweating out the details of collecting, wrapping, packaging and sending off Christmas gifts to my distant family.

By "this time of year," I mean December 20 to 23, the last days it's possible to send a package and hope for delivery before The Day.  Giving gifts to my parents, brothers, sister and their kids is one of the best parts of my Christmas -- it makes me feel connected to them although they are all a couple of states to the right.

I'm happy to report I went to the post office with my boxes yesterday, the earliest I've ever shipped. And I feel a major sense of accomplishment.  Consider:

• I didn't have to pay FedEx a dime to get something somewhere overnight.
• I didn't even have to pay second-day air charges to UPS or Uncle Sam.
• I was able to ship with regular priority mail, the one that takes two to three days and is reasonably priced.

Two or three days? Go ahead and take four, U.S. Postal Service. Don't rush on account of me, I beat the clock. I mailed my packages in the TEENS of December. Yes, it was December 19, but that's in the TEENS. 

Now I have time to bake more cookies, watch a new NetFlix movie or add a few more lights to the outdoor holiday extravaganza that will peak right around Christmas Eve. (Whereupon the lights will re main displayed until the following weekend, only to be boxed back up for another year.)

Kindergarten baby

For years, Walter has watched as his brother and then sister brought home report cards.

I'd oooh and ahhhh over all the grades, which are usually great.  I don't recall a time I yelled about a report card (proud mommy moment: I haven't had reason to yell).  So it surprised me last week when Walter handed me his report card, ducked his head and said, "Mommy, I'm afraid I got an F in hurrying."

I wanted to snort with laughter except that he was serious. Not tremendously concerned, but just fundamentally aware that this was A Moment of Judgment and he should be analyzing his actions.

I assured him no one gets an F for hurrying. I knew exactly why he had this fear.  During parent-teacher conferences earlier this year, Mrs. N told us Walter has a tendency to hurry through his work.  It didn't cause him to do poor work academically, but it wasn't neat and his coloring was often "scribble-scrabble."  You know, like when you take one green crayon and color the whole page?

Or take a black crayon and scribble over the pictures of the words that start with the letter "I" like ice cream and ice cubes and iron. (He didn't know what an iron was by the drawing, so how could he know if it started with I? Just noting that. Do you iron?)

Anyway, his report card is a succession of S, S+ and O marks for satisfactory, satisfactory plus and outstanding. Not surprisingly he was outstanding in math and social interaction.  What was surprising is that he got S+ in reading skills, which is odd because he claims he can't read.  His teacher said au contraire when I asked about it and says he reads very well in circle time. Well, I'll be.

I hugged Walter and told him how proud I am about his very first report card ever, and said we'll save it in his scrapbook. (Where is it right now? Who knows. I'm sure I have it somewhere in the scribble scrabble of my life.)

And yeah, there was a little note about the fact that he sometimes hurries through his work.  I wrote back that I thought maybe a) they should give him something that makes him stop and think, and b) stop giving kids a reward for finishing their work first -- like extra recess. Give him another novella to consume or something.

And now for something completely different, I am trying to embed a brief little video of this boy here. Here's to trying new things.

Hark the little angels sing

We had a blast Sunday evening singing Christmas carols with some friends.  We went to Eucalyptus Street in San Bruno, an amazing neighborhood with lights that can surely be seen from outer space. We serenaded the long line of cars that went up the street, but the best view by far was had by parking and walking the few blocks of this amazing street.

Caught in the act!

We were invited over to a neighbor's house to decorate gingerbread houses. We came away with some great ones.

We each made one -- all three kids, me and Granger's friend Calhoun.  Walter paid special attention to each of his placements, but he kept forgetting that he was decorating, not noshing.

Click on the picture of Walter to see the rest of the photos!

Christmas light

One of my favorite Christmas scenes. There is truly something special about candles and firelight.