Welcome to Wal-mart!! (and more winter wandering)

Christmas is about Jesus, the baby Jesus' birth to be exact. So why does everyone get into a tizzy shopping for gifts? Why did my daughter's day care teacher confront me about the lack of gifts given unto her by the parents?

I am not a gift giver. My gift to that day care is faithfully paying "tuition" once a week. Besides, I don't generally make a list of Christmas gifts to distribute to people I believe to have been good all year. I try to show appreciation throughout the year in small ways. And this is not the economy to drop blatant hints about gifts. Although she has since made another shameless plea.

It's all just too much. I'm not Scrooge and this isn't a bah humbug to you who enjoy the mayhem or those who plan ahead and make it through the season stress free. But, I just experienced a hellacious holiday shopping spree this weekend that reminded me of how pointless it all is.

I don't know what manner of fever possessed me to enter Wal-mart at high noon on the Saturday before Christmas, but I did. And I wasn't particularly searching for gifts. I was just perusing with my toddler, on a quest to find party favors for her upcoming birthday tea party. So we painstakingly narrowed down choices, then we browsed the toy aisles, the craft aisle...all the while she's chanting "I wan dowa, I wan dowa" [translation:"I want Dora"]

I'm taking deep cleansing breaths as I fight through the traffic jams on every row, barely able to view the merchandise over the back of someone's head. It was chaotic and uncomfortable to say the least.

Then the child's chant changed to "I got pee, I got peee, I got peeeeeee." Since she's a novice potty user, this chant always gets a prompt response. So we abruptly park our cart, that contained some carefully selected goods, and head into the restroom.

No more than 5 minutes later, I emerge to find the cart is missing. It is no where to be found. I confront a sales associate who assures me they are not collecting carts or moving them to the Go Backs area, then she asks me:
"Was it empty?"
No!

If it were empty I wouldn't give a (fill in the blank), but I just spent an hour navigating through this outer rim of hell with a 2-year-old in tow just to have my efforts swiped. Discouraged, we walked hand in hand through the store looking for our cart.
Had I seen it, I fully intended to grab the handle, throw my kid inside and roll away. (even if this meant elbowing some unsuspecting shopper out of my way) I suppose it's best I didn't find it.

We left the Wal-mart empty handed, feeling drained and defeated.
I suppose someone mistakenly pushed the cart away, adding his or her own personal selections atop my own. Maybe he or she didn't even realize it until he or she reached the register. I hope this unattentive person paid for some of that junk that was riding around in my cart to appease the toddler. The thought makes me feel some what vindicated.

Winter Wandering

The tree was released by a Husky bolt cutter courtesy of Home Depot. Yes I did it, and they helped. Especially, when they accepted the return the following day. I consider it a bolt cutter loan, that I paid back in full.

So my house began to look a lot like Christmas about a week ago on Sunday, Dec. 14. I calculated we could enjoy the tree at least 10 full days before the official holiday. That means it was worth the effort. But there was still something missing.

Looking at my tree didn't bring me tidings of comfort and joy. The white lights on a white cord were glaring and awkward. Why hadn't I noticed it before? I went to Walmart to get white lights on a green cord. That helped. Then, I realized I don't like half of my silver and gold ornaments anymore. Only half of them were worthy of the tree so I decorated just one side of the tree. I'll wait till the after-Christmas sales to get new and improved ornaments from the pricey places like Pier 1.

The tree pictured here is similar to mine. I'll take a picture later and update it.

Free the Tree

Christmas time is near.
I love this time of year!
..The nip in the air, the comforting foods, the glow of the tree. But wait! My tree isn't up yet! Traditionally, I prop this dominating figure up the day after Thanksgiving so that we can bask in its glory for at least a month.

But this year, the ritual has been delayed. First, by the fact that I was not geographically present. I was hundreds of miles away from home working on my mother's tree. And it is a fragrant fir - beautifully adorned with blue and silver ornaments.

My artificial, reusable tree; however, is in captivity at the moment. It's trapped in our shed. Much to my dismay, when I went out to recover it, I discovered that someone had closed the combination lock, which we deliberately leave open. The problem is, we don't know the combination. It was written on a piece of paper that is MIA. (This is why people do things like writing their PIN numbers on the back of their ATM cards)

I thought about just buying a real tree for this year, but when I got out there and saw the prices I kept thinking I already have a tree. I am NOT going to pay them $40.

So I've decided that today is the day. I'm on the web studying instructional videos about lock cracking. If I can't get it out, there may be a Charlie Brown tree at my house this year.

Pound Cake Withdrawal

I could sure go for a piece of pound cake right now. And not just any pound cake, my mother's homemade Sour Cream Pound Cake. Her mother taught her to make it and she passed the recipe down to me. In fact, during my primitive years I was the designated cake maker. You see we'd get requests, or orders, from family members for cakes. Not slices, mind you, but entire cakes. We'd make one for Granddaddy, one for Deb, Carrie, Mr. Steve, Auntie and so on. I'd spend hours mixing the batter for each one. I'd beat the wet ingredients first: butter, eggs, sour cream, vanilla. Then, I'd add the dry ones: flour, sugar. Me and the mixer would whip it good until the formula was just right. Ma would flour the pan and prep the other side dishes i.e. dressing, ham, collards.

Anyway, there is a reason people want an entire cake to themselves. It's irresistible - light, fluffy, moist and creamy all at the same time. I arrived in S. Florida on Wednesday night (Thanksgiving Eve) and started eating slices of that cake approximately every 4 to 6 hours, sometimes less. You'd think I was suffering from some ailment and was prescribed Sour Cream Pound cake as a remedy. That's just how diligent I was about eating it up until my departure Monday night.

I know it was wrong, I even know just how much sugar, butter and sour cream goes into each one, but it didn't matter. Who cares that I'd been torturing myself with sunrise workouts for the last month. It was all worth it. That cake is nostalgia in my mouth and satisfaction for my soul.

I can't remember when I'd had it last. I haven't been home for Thanksgiving since my first year of college. And a LOT has changed. My elementary school has been razed and replaced with a new massively modern structure. The mail carrier in the all black neighborhood where I was raised is Latino (and the neighborhood is following suit), the movie theatre has been replaced by a gigantic Kohl's department store, my baby cousins have babies now, Grandadddy, Auntie and numerous others are no longer here to celebrate Thanksgiving with us anymore or to place cake orders.

Even I've changed. I'm no longer a pensive coed, I'm a wife and mother now.
But the cake remains the same. Maybe that's why it was so good.