Tag: Christmas

The Little Gingerbread House

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Christmas3 Comments

Happy Festivus!  I had every intention of writing out my Airing of Grievances list, but it turns out I don’t have a lot to be disgruntled about.  Most of my list revolved around laundry and the fact that Terry beat me soundly at the Feats of Strength this year.

The Feats of Strength took place at our gym and let me just say that I am not friends with the Bosu ball.  Terry, on the other hand, is gifted and talented on the Bosu.  I was so uncoordinated that one of the personal trainers actually told his client to stop doing sit ups so she could laugh at me.  Yes, I added that trainer to my list of grievances, but even so it was a sparse list.  So I leave you with a photo of our Festivus Pole and a story about a little gingerbread house.

Several Christmases ago our friends, Nick and Abby, threw a gingerbread house making party.  Their table was all a-sparkle with bowls of candy.  There were fluffy clouds of frosting to lather on graham crackers.  It was a fantastic party idea.  With hot apple cider in our bellies, we created some charming gingerbread residences.  I say residences because ‘houses’ did not apply to all of the creations.  Actually, charming didn’t apply to all of them either.  Terry, for example, made a gingerbread trailer on blocks.  It was complete with candy tires in the front yard and tin foil windows.  Really, quite a work of art.  I designed a much more traditional boring house.

At the end of the night, Nick and Abby insisted that everyone take their creations home.  Terry and I are not keepers of stuff like that and after several failed attempts at leaving without our gingerbread masterpieces, we said goodbye and abandoned our creations on their front doorstep.  Nick and Abby retaliated and the structures went back and forth between our houses several times until they came to rest on the dryer in our garage.  Moisture in the garage damaged the gingerbread trailer beyond repair.  Those tinfoil windows just weren’t structurally sound.  My little gingerbread house, however, remained intact.

I kept the house until the following December when Nick and Abby had yet another party.  Amazingly, we were invited.  This one was a white elephant gift party.  Yup.  You guessed it.  I wrapped up the house and put it in a pretty Christmas snowman bag.  Along with 15 Halloween glow stick bracelets and a random Christmas bear figurine.  Terry gleefully searched the house and threw in an Abs of Steel video and a golf putter laser thing.  What a steal, right?  What more could you want?  Although Nick and Abby did not go home with our prize collection of stuff, another pair of friends did.  I don’t remember what Terry and I walked away with, but the gingerbread house was gone forever.  Or so I thought.

Yesterday we found a bag sitting on our doorstep.  Aw, someone left us a gift.  How sweet.  Wait that pretty Christmas snowman bag looks familiar. We opened the bag. Our hearts sunk as we discovered fifteen Halloween glow stick bracelets, one random Christmas bear figurine, one Abs of Steel Video, one golf putter laser thing and one Gingerbread House.  Other than the licorice siding that has come loose and a pungent sugary odor, the little house has remained strong over the past years.

As Festivus comes to a close, all I have to say is beware of pretty Christmas snowman bags on your doorstep because it’s on.  It’s so on.

My Christmas List

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Christmas5 Comments

No, this isn’t a list of stuff I want.  I don’t want anything, so that would be a really brief and completely boring list.  No, this is a different kind of list.  Christmas vacation is less than 20 hours away and this is my list of things to do on vacation.  It’s not a list to ooh and aah over.  There’s no skydiving or marathon running, but I’m darn proud of it anyway.

1.  Wear my pajamas until the last possible minute everyday.  I think I’ll alternate between the snowman ones and my flannel One Fish, Two Fish jammies.  I fully plan on topping them off with my fuzzy pink robe and disgusting slippers.  Totally hot.

2.  Go to the used book store and grab an armload of books to read.  I’m in the middle of Ghost Trails about a girl who cycled the Iditarod.  How cool is she?  Next on my list are Gilead and Love In The Driest Season.  Obviously I need more than that in my stack.  Any suggestions?

3.  Eat breakfast for dinner.  I love brinner.  Cheerios and bananas, veggie omelets, sweetmilks, waffles, Terry’s vanilla pancakes.  It’s all good no matter what time of day.

4.  Start another burrito streak.  I could eat a burrito every single day.  In fact, I once did for more than forty days in a row.  My favorite burrito includes black beans, refried beans, shredded cabbage, avocado, sour cream, and a sprinkle of cheese.  Delish.  I heart burritos.

5.  Ride my bike.  A lot.  This weekend I’m riding up to beautiful Igo.  Who knows where else I’ll ride.  It doesn’t matter.

6.  Go to the movies at least three times.  On my list are The Boy In The Striped Pajamas, Seven Pounds, Yes Man, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  Looks like I’ll have to buy a ton of Sour Patch Kids.

7.  Watch all of my favorite Christmas movies, including Love Actually, While You Were Sleeping and A Charlie Brown Christmas.

8.  Sit in the hot tub and read without dropping my book in the water.  History is not in my favor.  If you’ve ever borrowed a book from me, chances are the pages were all wrinkly and fanned out from a dunk or two.  This is why I buy books instead of checking them out from the library.

9.  Get rid of as much stuff as possible.  Terry and I take great pleasure in making a mountainous pile of stuff for UCP.  If we haven’t worn/used/watched/needed something for a year, it’s out.  Exceptions are memorabilia, our wedding china, and books.  If you come over to visit, I suggest you don’t stand still for too long or you might be accidentally tossed into the pile.

10.  Write.  The thought of having two weeks in a row when I can write whenever I want is making me giddy!  I’m home alone and I just giggled out loud at the mere thought of it.

Now it’s your turn.  What’s on your list?

Dear Frank,

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Bike Adventures, Letters2 Comments

Dear Frank the Tank,

I know how excited you were to ride cyclocross on Sunday.  I was, too.  No, really, I was.  Ok, I’ll admit it, I was equal parts intimidated and excited, but my eagerness far outweighed my fear.  That’s why I pumped up your tires the night before and filled up a pair of water bottles.

You can hardly blame me for the fact that your back tire was flat AGAIN the next morning.  What were you doing that night anyway?  It is completely my fault that I didn’t have any spare tubes.  I looked on the cycling shelf AND in the cycling drawer.  Only tubes for The Rocket.  An egregious error on my part.

That’s why I called Sir Steve, Bike Mechanic Extraordinaire at an ungodly hour the morning of the race and asked him to send a spare tube with his wife, Amy.  C’mon, Frank, you’ve met Sir Steve many, many times.  He would never do you wrong.  No, I don’t think Sir Steve loves you more than I do.  Now you’re just being hurtful, Frank.

Once Amy arrived with the tube, I was excited to load you onto the car and get your tire changed at the track.  Yes, I know the drive was foggy and it was only thirty degrees out.  I should have covered your seat.  Again, another unforgivable error on my part.  No, I do not know what it’s like to have ice crystals freeze on my seat, thank you very much.

At the cyclocross track, you may remember that I lovingly took you off the roof rack and brushed the ice off of your handlebars, gears, and seat.  You might have noticed that Amy and I got straight to work changing your tire, a task both of us prefer to leave to Sir Steve.  Sadly, he was eating hot oatmeal far, far away at home with the kids.  Amy and I did our best.  In fact, Frank, you may recall us squealing with glee when we’d changed your tube and had you all put together again.  There may have even been a high five in there somewhere.  That’s how glad we were to have changed your tire all by ourselves.

Frank, I understand that you were bitter with cold, but your response was totally uncalled for.  As we grinned from ear to ear because of our triumphant tire change, you really didn’t have to hiss at us.  In fact, I’m not even sure it was a hiss.  You let out an exasperated “PSSSSSHHHHHH!” and your back tire began to shrivel.  What was that all about?  Seriously, we could have done without your attitude as we helplessly watched your back tire deflate itself.

So, I am very sorry that you had to watch from the roof rack as the other bikes zipped around the track without you.  Maybe next time you will hold your tongue and even a little air.  That is why I sent you on a short vacation to Sir Steve’s bike hospital.  He’s going to figure out what’s wrong and make you all better.

Christmas is almost here, Frank, and I know it’s your wish to get your wheels dirty at cyclocross.  I, too, hope that you’ll be up and running for the race later this month.  Maybe if you behave yourself Santa will even exchange your usual lump of coal for some shiny new tubes in your saddle pack.  Merry Christmas, Frank!

Love,

Alicia

O Christmas Candy, O Christmas Candy

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Christmas3 Comments

Mistletoe, drive-thru nativity scenes, Christmas carols, stockings hung with care, candlelight Christmas Eve services, twinkle lights; it is, indeed, the most wonderful time of the year.  But only due in part to all of those things.  The other day I was strolling the aisles of Target and hallelujah, the Christmas candy is here!

Oh, joyous red and green peanut M&M’s, how I’ve missed you.  Your orange and black Halloween cousins leave a lot to be desired.  Really, who would eat a black M&M over a red or green one?  I can’t even talk about those lame Indiana Jones peanut M&M’s without marked disdain in my voice.  The colors were atrocious.  Lime green and baby poop brown with indecipherable symbols stamped on the?  Who’s idea was that?

Little compares to the simple perfection of a candy dish brimming with red and green chocolatey peanut goodness.  I love Christmas peanut M&M’s more than regular ones because I like to eat M&M’s in even turns.  The regular ones have numerous colors to sort and then there’s the whole size issue.  The Christmas ones have three colors, red, dark green, and light green.  It really cuts down on my candy organizing time which means more candy munching time.  Merry Christmas to me.

Another Christmas candy, I’m happy to welcome back into the fold is the minty Christmas tree nougat.  They’re just so pretty, all tucked into their clear wrappers.  Not to mention the plunge my face in cold water wake up call they give my kisser!  If only Santa would stuff the toe of my stocking with these little dazzlers, but no, Santa always crams an orange in the toe.  Sometimes an apple, too.  Santa must be in cahoots with my dentist.

Back to the Christmas tree nougat.  My grandma, renowned for her Jedi candy ways, always had a glass jar of these candies when my family would descend on her for Christmas.  Grandma also has two swiveling club chairs in her sitting room.  I’d cram anywhere from three to seven of those chewy nougats in my mouth at a time and then beeline for the spinning chairs.  I’d push off with one leg propelling the chair around until I thought it was surely going over.  Then I’d tuck my legs up, tilt my head back and spin, spin, spin with sticky nougat dribbling from the corners of my mouth.  Ah, childhood; blissful and disgusting.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a nod to the mini candy cane.  While I’m not a fan of them all on their lonesome, there is nothing better than a mug of hot chocolate with a peppermint candy cane at the bottom.  On dry days I walk the three or so blocks to school.  Crisp winter air nips at my nose and steam rises off my mug.  Each slurp of the piping hot, minty beverage convinces me that it is indeed going to be a perfect day.  Until I step in an icy puddle up to my calf and soak my entire shoe, sock, and pant leg.  Crap.

Then there’s The Book.  The hallowed Storybook of Lifesavers.  Let’s all have a moment of revered silence…  Thank you.  The Book is a Christmas stocking must.  I love, love, love the sour Lifesavers and Lifesavers in any shade of orange.  I agree, the stories on the inside of the box are cheesy, but what do you expect from a candy wrapper?  Wait, I take that back because I love the cartoons wrapped around Bazooka gum.  And finding the Indian and the star on Tootsie Pops is awesome.  And at least Laffy Taffy offers the possibility of a chuckle.

Time to step it up, Lifesavers, and entertain me.  If you’re taking requests, I’d like some trivia in the box.  For example, what is the most popular Lifesaver flavor?  It can’t be butter rum or cough syrup cherry, which I happily fork over to Terry’s BFF every year.  When were Lifesavers first produced?  Who’s idea was it to make that yucky white flavor?  And what exactly is that yucky white flavor supposed to be?  It’s certainly not something found in nature.  Are there any Lifesaver world records?  Who came up with the idea to use a piece of dental floss to open a roll of Lifesavers and how is it that I manage to pull the entire string out without getting anywhere close to breaking through the wax paper barrier?  And finally, how did Lifesavers get their name?  That kind of thing would be way more interesting than some plotless story that for whatever reason always has to include a reindeer, Santa wearing too much blush, an abominable snow yetti, a gingerbread boy, a talking Christmas tree, and the token creepy troll.

Sadly, I’m not a fan of all Christmas candy.  The candy corn for example is in its finest state when in its traditional yellow, orange, and white.  I like to bite the yellow part off first, then the little white shark tooth tip, and then eat the orange middle.  Better yet, I like the candy corn pumpkins.  I nibble the stem off and then bite the pumpkin in half.  I DO NOT like that weird harvest corn.  Is the brown supposed to taste like chocolate?  If so, something has gone awry.  It’s chocolate ‘product’ like Velveeta is a cheese ‘product’.  Neither of them remotely resemble their ancestor.  I have equal disappointment for the red, green, and white candy corn.  It has the added bonus of turning my tongue a sickly purplish gray so that after I eat a handful, I must head straight home to brush my tongue 9 times before I can be seen in public.  Plus these holiday wannabe’s taste like my plastic mouth night guard.  Night guard flavored candy-blecchhh!

I recognize that I have blogged about candy twice in like a week.  Yes, I’m proud of the restraint I’ve shown.  I think about candy on average thirty-seven times a day, so to only have brought it up twice is a win in my book.  So, now it’s time for you to chime in with your favorite Christmas sweets.  In the meantime, I’m going to eat a handful of Christmas candy for breakfast.

Gold, Frankincense, and Midol?

On By Alicia McCauleyIn Christmas, Teacher Tales2 Comments

It started out as an average Friday morning.  Students filed in showing off their loose teeth and lugging their book boxes to their desks.  I stopped at each desk to check in with my kids and collect their homework.  Just then a father with special needs walked in.  In the middle of a conversation with one of my kids, the dad blurted out “Here’s her folder.  Do you want her papers now?”  I patiently held up a lone index finger, the universal sign for ‘I’ll be with you in a moment’.

After finishing the conversation with my student, I turned my attention to the waiting parent.  We had a quick conversation about where his daughter should put her homework folder and I turned to go about my morning business.  The father continued in a loud, unmodulated voice.  “Mrs. McCauley, I know what I’m getting you for Christmas.”  I wasn’t sure how to best reply, so I uttered a noncommital “Oh.”  Then he delivered a surprise verbal punch.  “I’m getting you the Costco jar of MIDOL!”  He smiled, so pleased with himself.  I stared, mouth agape.  I didn’t feel like I’d been rude or unkind.  It’s not like I gave him the OTHER finger or anything.

As I stood totally unsure how to escape gracefully from this conversation, his face turned the blotchy crimson of a pomegranate.  In an even louder voice he stammered “I mean the Costco jar of Tylenol.  Not the other, you know, thing.”  This really didn’t clear anything up for me.  I stared at him, head cocked to the side, in total disbelief that this conversation was still going on.  He continued “You know because of all the headaches you must get.”  I do not have a poker face at all, so I’m sure my increasing look of incredulity was apparent.  I stood unable to extricate myself from the awkwardness and to my dismay he rattled on.  “You must get a lot of headaches.  I didn’t mean the other thing.  I don’t want you to think I was saying anything weird or anything.”  Seriously!?!  This entire conversation was totally bizarre.  Unable to bear the possibility of any further comments, I said “Don’t worry about it.  I put my foot in my mouth all the time.  Have a nice day.”  I willed my legs to move me to the student sitting in the desk furthest away and to my great relief that was the end of the dialogue.

Although I only get a headache approximately once a year and I am as fortunate when it come to other unmentionable aches and pains, come this December I’ll be commemorating the birth of the Christ child with the deluxe jar of Midol or Tylenol.  Who knows, maybe in the spirit of generosity and goodwill, I’ll receive both.  Take that, wise men.