Tis the Season

Winter is my second favorite time of year. My first love is fall, then summer, and spring coming in last.

I'm sure that says something about me.

When I was little I glamorized winter. It's probably because I grew up in south Florida and winter was putting on pants instead of shorts. I loved the Holiday movies depicting snowfalls, sledding on hills, sleigh rides and romantic walks down a decorated main street. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. I dreamed of skiing in the mountains and finishing off the day with hot chocolate and marshmallows. Hook, line and sinker. I bought the image.

I wished so much to be in the television Christmas movies. I remember settling down to watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, The Grinch who Stole Christmas and It's a Wonderful Life, a million times a month before somebody bought the rights. Now I don't know when it's on regular t.v.

I still watch the shows and cry. I like the cheesy ones. I like the dramatic ones. I like the kids shows. I don't care. I even like the one with Dolly Parton and Lee Majors. Ha! I admit it. I like every rendition of Scrooge. Bill Murray's Scrooged is top on my list in that category. God bless us all. God bless everyone.

At Christmastime I buy oranges. My mom always bought oranges at Christmas when we were growing up. It always seemed weird because we could get oranges anytime of the year living in Florida. I think because when she was growing up in Georgia it was quite a treat to have fresh fruit at Christmas. The smell is so fresh and alive. So, now I bombard my family with oranges at Christmas. I hope they will remember stuff like that.

I miss my mom very much.

One of the things I don't like is shopping. At least most of the time. I don't like crowds. I don't like people bitching and moaning and fighting over stuff. Black Friday is disgusting to me. I guess I have this notion in my head of the ugly housewife shopping to get all the must have toys. So, it's what I see. I should look for the happy people who are having a good time. It's something I need to work on.

My first Christmas with my husband was magical. He wanted to make it one to remember, because my first Christmas here was very sad. That's a story for another time. Anyway, we did it up. The tree had so many toys underneath it. It was a kids dream come true. However, my kids just went through those packages in no time. It was obscene and they were so hopped up with excitement they totally succumbed to the "next" mentality. Open gift, throw the gift down and yell next. I was saddened by the way they behaved. The funny thing is we did it. Of course the kids are going to act like that. They had never seen a Christmas like this before. They did what any red blooded kid would do. It was our fault. I guess seeing my kids behave so ungrateful really hit me hard. We are very choosy about our gifts now and try to focus more on doing holiday things and the spirit of Christmas.

Winter is what I imagined as a kid. One of the presents we splurge on is a family ski pass at the local mountain. We buy it at the end of the season when they are the cheapest. It's a gamble because you don't know what kind of winter it will be. I think if you use it 5 times you get your money's worth. Unless there is no snow, it's not a problem. We are up there every weekend. This is a local mountain so it's not as big as say Tahoe, but it's fun. It is exactly one hour from our doorstep to the lift. Not bad. There isn't a more perfect day then when you are on a mountain with fresh snow and the sun is shining. It's glorious. Being in paradise with your family having fun....priceless.

We are an outside family, no video games. It's not because we are noble, or think they are evil. We had so much trouble in the house. That's another long story. Maybe I will write about that sometime, but not today. With that in mind here is a couple of gift ideas from me to you. I would like to hear yours as well.

The Daring Book for Girls.

The Dangerous Book For Boys.

They are fun books for the kids with lots of information and things to do.

There is another book called The American Boy's Handy Book: What to do and How to do it. Now this is a great book for father and son. Even mom and son, or daughter. If you have a taste for adventure. It tells you how to do so many things, outside for all the seasons. It's wonderful. We bought it and use it all the time when we go up to the woods. It's simple. If you aren't an outside family then this will give you a place to start. Heck, just sitting around looking at it and planning your adventures will be a family treasure. Trust me.

My eight year old is getting a jump rope. Don't laugh, he wants one. Ever since he saw the Disney channel movie Jump In, he thinks it's cool. He and the other boys now play with the little girls jumping rope. They even know the songs.

So, again I have my head in the clouds and glamorize this time of year. The Norman Rockwell Christmas or the Thomas Kincaid Holiday. Those visions warm my heart. The one thing I always wanted was a family. The traditional family, like in story books and tv from when I was a kid. Sometimes I get it right, other times I am way off. I keep on trying. I have a lot to learn, but if my kids feel love, security and magic. Well then, I'm getting close.

Enjoy the magic of December!

Real Deals

Friday night I had an opportunity to market my massage practice.
I know, I know, enough of the massage talk.
Right now, it's what I've got.

Anyway, I was invited to do chair massage at a store called, Real Deals. It's a home decor store and it's very unique on a couple of levels. First, the products it sells are pretty affordable. It's country style decor, but with an upscale feel. If it's not your style you still can find unique gifts here.

The store is only open 2 days a week, and then they do private parties. You know like those home parties you throw except it's in the store.What's not to like about that? It's closed for you and your guests. I really like that idea because I have come to hate crowds, especially when shopping.

I set up in a little nook which was under a pergola draped with some sheer fabric. It was a very cozy spot. It was a perfect people watching spot. At first shoppers would walk by and smile. Everyone was waiting to see who would go first. It turns out my first and favorite client was a 13 year old girl who just made the basketball team. She was very excited and very sore. I love listening to kids talk. This girl had such a passion for life and her sport. It was infectious.

The store has lots of clocks, I mean a lot of clocks. Every style imaginable. It had a lot of retro-farm, Little House on the Prairie, Nellie Olson general store items. Seasonal items rotate with, get this, the season. Ha! The one thing that I thought was expensive is the furniture. I was next to a fake antique writing desk, which I loved, for $950.00. It was pretty, but not just under a thousand dollars pretty, and fake to boot.

I wonder what they call fake antique furniture. Faketique? Anfake? If I say anthrax in my blog will I get a new following of people like the FBI, CIA, IRS ( I didn't buy anything), DEA?

As I said, my little nook was the perfect people watching spot. The ladies had wine, beer and appetizers. The wine was served in plastic champagne glasses. It was awesome. I saw a few spills and stumbles. You know these ladies came for the booze and a girls night out, not to shop. Even so, there were a lot of sales made and as the night went on I gave about six massages and maybe gained a client. I hope.
A lot of the ladies were making plans about where they were going to go afterwards to finish off the night. The funny thing is I felt so cozy and at home here I just wanted to stay and decorate my future-house-in-the-mountains-to-be. I guess I did my time going out and wanting to be anywhere but home. Now, I love being at home and feel quite safe there.

You should check out the web site to see if there is a store near you. If not, then you might want to consider buying one. http://www.realdeals.net/ If you buy one, I will tell you my address where you can ship my fake writing desk for a thanks for telling me about my business gift.

Dancing with the Czars

Every now and again I like to check out from reality. You see, there are times when I have too much reality. One way I cope is with one of my little get away's. Lucky for me I know a lot of massage therapists to assist me in my quest for sanity.

Today's get away is a hot stone massage given to me by my friend Tatyana. The method of hot stone she is learning comes from the native Americans. She gets the room set up complete with Native American music. Right now I am ready for 80 minutes of no worries, lower blood pressure and maybe some spiritual guidance. My muscles will benefit no matter what. Honestly, I'll take what I get.

While laying there I try to make my mind go blank while I enjoy this lazy and luxurious pampering. I am ready to check out and try to find my animal spirit guide. That's another story. The only problem is I think my Russian therapist's roots are coming through. My mind turns to everything Russian. The Russia I know anyway.

The music on the stereo is replaced by music in my mind, compliments of Tchaikovsky. It's so dramatic and vibrant that I just let go and enjoy the ride. It seems my tour guide this time is a very hot Russian wearing the traditional Russian hat. It's made of rabbit fur and called, the Ushanka. I am dripping in diamonds, cause if you are going to be wearing diamonds you might as well be dripping in them. My gown is red, Kremlin red. I have a tiara on, diamond of course, laced with rubies.

Vlaidimir is his name. Yeah, I named him. He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. The ballroom is covered in gold and velvet. Yet ironically there are no velvet paintings. Not even the dogs playing poker or the real king, Elvis. Hmm, this really is a Russian fantasy.

Once on the floor he breaks into the traditional Russian dance where he is up and down, up and down, up and down. No really, this is the dance nothing else. He then starts circling me and engages me in a waltz and stares into my eyes the whole time. I am Cinderella. Who knew?

After dancing for hours he leads me to a table which is fit for an imperial Russian princess, me. The table is decorated with Faberge eggs and filled with great food. There are potato latke's with sour cream, caviar and vodka. While we are eating we are entertained by Mikail Baryshnikov and Olga Korbut, dancing and flipping. It's an imaginary Circue Du Soleil.

After dinner we strolled hand in hand through the town. It was a dark and snowy night. The architecture was magnificent and I felt like I was part of the Romanov dynasty. This place had a feel of power and strength. All the makings of a romance scene. Vladimir slowed his pace while I walked on admiring the city. He then came up behind me whispered in my ear and was tapping me on the shoulder. Kelly, Kelly...then the whispering got louder.
Kelly, wake up. We're done.
Dang, it was Tatyana. My massage was finished. The dream was gone, but not forgotten, for 80 minutes I escaped and was dancing with the Czars. Now, it's back to my own hunk and kids. I'm ready to tackle some more reality, until next time.

Assumption-sumption What's your function?

Assuming the world doesn't go to hell in a hand basket which by the way just happens to be sitting next to my future dog in the picture. Her name is Lucille Ball and that is my future living room assuming I get to build my dream home on the mountain.

I love my new career. However, my new job has some new challenges. There are some days I have way too much mellow. One day my shift began in the late afternoon. I was home alone all day, quiet. When I get to work I'm in a dimly lit room with piped in new age music and more quiet for 6 hours.

My last massage of the day was a Swedish, nothing but chill for 55 minutes. When I get to the foot of this man I noticed a sequin. My imagination woke up. Is this man a secret cross dresser who likes shiny dresses? Is he a drag queen and came in for a massage after a grueling day of practice for a Broadway-esque show. Wow, he really didn't fit the bill as a dressy cross dresser, but that would be rude of me to assume he was a frumpy cross dresser. Snap out of it. Well, it seems as usual all of my assumptions were wrong. It wasn't a sequin. It was a corn remover patch. How silly of me. Unless.....he got a corn from wearing high heel shoes!

Speaking of corn...My silverware basket in my dishwasher is falling apart.
I went to the local appliance parts store to get a new one. I brought in the basket so they could see the one I wanted. I plopped it on the counter and the guy looks at it. He starts turning it around and around, then upside down looking for a part number. That's when it happened. Corn fell out. Yup, right there on the counter. I grabbed the basket so fast when I ran out I didn't even look in it. How embarrassing.
The funny thing about corn going through the dishwasher cycle is it comes out whole just like the digestion system. Cool.

This man just looked at me like this happens everyday. He could have assumed I was a dirty lady who doesn't scrape the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. He would sort of be right. If it is a hectic night I do it half-assed. He could of assumed I come from a corn loving family. Kind of. He could of assumed that my family believes that if a corn goes through the cycle unblemished it's a lucky charm. He would really be wrong because the part he wanted to sell me was $70.00! I assumed he was out of his mind if he thought I was going to spend that kind of money on a plastic basket.

I have a whole lot more of these assumptions, but I am tired and I assume you are bored by now.