Making New Year's Resolutions

Originally published in the Dunwoody Crier

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions.  Sure, there were all those years when I resolved not to gain the usual five pounds I put on every winter. That never worked. The good news is I managed to take the pounds off in the spring, though that challenge seems to get harder every year.

I’ve worked out regularly for ten years now, so I don’t need a resolution about exercise.  Yes, I could resolve to walk more frequently, but I know it won’t happen. Instead, I’m going to pat myself on the back for regularly visiting the the local gym to work out.

Maybe I should simply resolve to continue doing what I’ve been doing—resolve not to take anything for granted. It’s all too easy for things to fall by the wayside. For example, I try to write every day, but it takes an effort to pick back up after I return from vacation.  In that spirit, here are the things I’ll continue in the new year.

Write: Whether I’m editing or starting from scratch, writing daily is a must. I write for two weekly papers, different columns for each. I was already pleasantly busy, and then I took on a new challenge. This year, I wrote my first cozy mystery and plan to complete the first draft of book two by early January.  I expect book one to come out no later than February, and I hope to write a third in 2020 in what I’m calling my Dickens & Christie Mysteries. Hint: Dickens is a dog, and Christie is a cat.  I’ll leave it to you to figure out for whom they’re named.

Work out: I see a weekly session with my trainer as a necessity. I had to find a new gym and new trainer in 2019, and I’ve been delighted with Amir at the MJCCA. Many thanks to the Crier reader who recommended him. I miss my workout partner of ten+ years, but we manage to meet for lunch or coffee from time to time.

Happily, I also reconnected with Mary Sue, another friend with whom I took yoga class until our instructor retired two years ago. Because we’re both eligible for Silver Sneakers, and I knew she worked out at the MJCCA, I got in touch. Now we’re attending yoga classes and the occasional Pilates class together. Knowing we’re counting on each other to show up keeps us going.

Connect with friends: Make time for lunch and travel with girlfriends. I’m fortunate to have friends from all walks of life—high school, college, my teaching days, and my corporate days.  Add to those longtime friends the ones I’ve met in the Dunwoody community through yoga, writing, and my column, and I’m a lucky girl.

Read: It’s simple. Read at least two books a week, maybe more.  Of course, if I hadn’t taken up writing mysteries, I’d have more time to devote to this pastime.   Lately, I’ve gotten so caught up in my writing that I often go upstairs to my office in the evening to write instead of to bed with a book. Whereas reading was once my only passion, I’ve now added writing.

Carpe Diem: Make the most of every day. Enjoy day-to-day life with my husband and take pleasure in the simple things in life. Whether we’re eating a home-cooked meal, dining out, seeing a movie or a play, watching our favorite shows on television, or chuckling at the pets—we have much to be thankful for.

Perhaps the overarching resolution is to wake up every day saying “Life is good.” The rest will follow.

Find my books “The Ink Penn: Celebrating the Magic in the Everyday,” “Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch,” and "Coloring with Lord Banjo" on Amazon. Contact me at inkpenn119@gmail.com, and follow me on Facebook, www.facebook.com/KathyManosPennAuthor/.

Wishing you a Very Merry Christmas!!

From our House to Yours 

      May your Christmas be Merry and Bright!

Santa KNOWS what Lord Banjo wants

Puddin' is Patiently Waiting for Santa

A Bookaholic Problem

We bookaholics would say you can never have too many books,  but I’m beginning to think I have too many on my TBR (to be read) list.  I can’t help myself.  I see book reviews in the paper and add books to the list; I get Amazon emails with book suggestions and add more to my list; I get BookBub emails and do the same; my friends make suggestions on GoodReads and many of those titles go on the list.  Do you see my problem?

Never mind reading all these books; the way I keep my list is problematic too.  I scribble titles and authors on scraps of paper by my easy chair or near the glider on the screened porch.  Eventually, those scraps make it to my office and then three different lists take shape.

I start by checking the library online to see if they have the books either in hard copy or in e-book form. Reading two books a week means the library is always the first stop.  If I’m lucky enough to find the titles there, I put them on my library wish lists so I can later place the book on hold. Because the library system tracks e-books separately from hard copies, I have two lists there.

If the books aren’t available at the library, which is the case for books early in a series or for many of the British mysteries I like, then I visit Amazon. There too, I can add books to my wishlist. This process means I am constantly updating three different lists, and sooner or later I have to find time to order and read the darned things.

Don’t get me wrong, I live to read.  I must read for at least 30 minutes before I turn out the lights at night.  Often, the time stretches to two hours, yet I can’t even begin to get to all the books on my multiple lists.  Perhaps if I hadn’t taken up writing, I could devote more time to reading, but that’s another story entirely.

Curious readers may wonder, “What books are on these lists?” Let’s start with a handful from the hard copy library list, and, omigosh, there are 55 books on that one: Finding Atticus, My Sister’s Grave, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, The Janus Stone, The Butterfly Garden, The Case of the Baker Street Irregulars, The Wife Between Us, Let the Devil Sleep.

On the e-book list are those that aren’t available in paper or a few that I may want to take on a trip, where Kindle reading is preferable. Phew, there are only 15 there: Body on Baker Street, Sweet Little Lies, Every Last Lie, Different Class, The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry, A Spool of Blue Thread.

Last but not least, there’s the Amazon list: Don’t Let Go, Sherlock Holmes and the Shakespeare Globe Murders, Queen of Camelot, European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman, The Forever King.

If you look these titles up, you’ll find mostly mysteries, many set in England or Europe. A few books dubbed literary fiction also show up, as do one or two about dogs or cats.

What, you may ask, is wrong with having long lists of books to read? Perhaps it’s realizing there’s no chance I’ll ever get to read them all unless I cease adding new titles. Cease adding new titles?  Horrors.  Any bookaholic will tell you that’s not likely.  And so, I may have to resign myself to never reading all the books that interest me.  I guess there are worse problems for a gal to have.



PS. 'Tis the season. If you're looking for unique gifts, please visit my website or Amazon page. My little books make great stocking stuffers, hostess gifts, and more.  A customer at the local Hallmark shop recently bought SIX of each book for Holiday gifts. 

Find my books “The Ink Penn: Celebrating the Magic in the Everyday,” “Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch,” and "Coloring with Lord Banjo" on Amazon. Contact me at inkpenn119@gmail.com, and follow me on Facebook, www.facebook.com/KathyManosPennAuthor/.

Lord Banjo is Thankful

It’s doesn’t take a holiday to make me thankful my Mum saw a last-minute Craigslist post about me. She scooped me up before I was taken to the Humane Society, and I’ve had a wonderful life ever since. For our Thanksgiving celebration this year, I don’t know what Mum has planned, but I’m pretty sure she can’t top last year’s mountain trip. We started out with the usual suspects—Mum, Dad, the Royal Critter Sitter, and a few others.

Things got lively when Nurse SarahAnne, another favorite critter sitter, arrived with two friends. They got down on the floor with me, chattered away about my soft wavy fur, my big brown eyes, and how I’d perfected the Royal Belly Rub Position; and then they took me for a long walk in the cold crisp mountain air. I was in heaven.

Soon, the activity in the kitchen got frantic and loud. Folks called, “Can we put the veggies in the oven? Is the dressing warm enough? Is the gravy ready? Oh no, the rolls are burning!” As if the noise level wasn’t high enough, more guests arrived, bearing food and cocktails. My crew had already gotten into the wine, but suddenly, champagne and some kind of mule drink were on offer.  I didn’t know mules drank. We dogs don’t, but we get a kick out of watching the antics of our peeps when they do.

Among the new guests were two boys, ages nine and six. Let me tell you; those boys didn’t need cocktails to get them going, though they managed to remain calm at least through dinner.  Seventeen people sat down for dinner, and in no time, it was over.  The only problem I saw was that all the table scraps went into the garbage; none hit the floor where I might have been able to snag a few.

After dinner, folks got comfy in front of the roaring fire or returned to the table for games.  The game contingent was amazingly lively, but that youngest boy took the cake.  He jumped, ran, dove into a pile of pillows, and did it all again.  He’d pet me, then dart away. When his Mom asked whether I was good with kids, Mum replied, “Yes, but I don’t think he’s ever met one like yours!” By the time his Granddad took him home, I was exhausted.

And, that’s when I got in trouble. It wasn’t my fault! The aroma of turkey scraps was too much for me so I snuck into the garbage.  Boy, did that cause an uproar! Someone exclaimed, “Banjo’s in the garbage,” while the hostess worried I’d eaten turkey bones.  Mum couldn’t help laughing as she shooed me away and cleaned up the mess.  I’m smart enough not to eat bones; I just licked up all the turkey juice I could find.  Ummm, Ummm, good.

By then, it was bedtime and was I ever ready.  I was so worn out; I didn’t move from the bedroom rug all night and Mum had to wake me up the next day.  I’ve come to the conclusion rambunctious youngsters are better suited for puppies than they are for mature Royal Dogs.

When Mum and Dad loaded me into the car to go home, I settled down to snooze. It took me several days to recover, but I’m still keen to see what fun Mum has in store this year. As long as the day includes cold weather walks, belly rubs, and turkey scraps,  I’ll be a happy boy. May your Thanksgiving be as happy as mine is sure to be.

Write Lord Banjo and his mum Kathy Manos Penn at inkpenn119@gmail.com, visit kathmanospenn.com, and find “Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch”  on Amazon.

LIVE | LOVE | GIVE for the Holidays

Holiday Happenings If your household is anything like ours, you’re busily decorating, shopping, and baking. ‘Tis also the busy season for book signings, and Lord Banjo has happily been booked solid. Speaking of the Royal Pooch, he's tickled pink that a pre-teen reviewer describes Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch not only as a "great book about a silly dog" but also as "perfect for a read aloud to a child between 1st and 3rd grades." He's a bit miffed at being called silly but happy to hear that kids like his story too.

Holiday Offer Our books are available on our website and Amazon, but if you would like signed copies, only The Ink Penn Elves can ship those. We also have a few tee shirts left. To place your order, contact the Elves at inkpenn119@gmail.com. The Elves will donate $1 to the Humane Society of the United States for every book they ship through December 31st. Help the Humane Society Today Did you know that only 1% of readers review the books they read? Or that a review can be as simple as “I liked it?” To encourage our readers to post an Amazon review, the Ink Penn Elves will also donate $1 to the Humane Society of the United States for every review received by December 31st. Just think: you’ll make our hearts sing, and you’ll support a worthy cause. Click Lord Banjo the Royal Pooch and/or The Ink Penn; scroll to the bottom of the page; see Customer Reviews; and click “Write a Customer Review.”  Lord Banjo, Princess Puddin', the Royal Mum, and our less fortunate furry friends appreciate your support. Click here to see additional gift ideas. You'll find gifts for foodies, readers, and animal lovers plus two that benefit nonprofits -- Dress for Success and the UGA Veterinary Hospital.    We Wish You the Happiest of Holidays! Please share our Holiday blog with your friends by forwarding this email or sharing on Facebook! Stay up to date between newsletters by following us on Facebook.

I need a little Christmas

Here’s how it started. First, I smiled when a friend emailed just past Halloween that she’d like to have a few girls over for cocktails but needed to apologize and warn us that her Christmas decorations were already up. Then, my husband and I were driving down the street and saw a yard with two lovely, lighted reindeer standing next to a huge pumpkin.  I commented, “I know the stores already have their holiday decorations up, but this is quite possibly the earliest I’ve seen a yard decorated.” It was November 7^th.

Next, I laughed when I saw a Facebook cartoon depicting a turkey proclaiming that November belongs to turkeys—not elves—and got a kick out of an indignant letter to Miss Manners in the Sunday paper.  The writer wanted Miss Manners to back her up in declaring that decorating for Christmas this early is just plain wrong.  Wisely, Miss Manners said it was not for her nor the reader to make that decision.

There I sat, someone who’s never decorated until after Thanksgiving, suddenly considering joining the early decorating contingent. Ever since I’d received the email from my friend, the urge to decorate had been growing, and my spontaneous search for a Santa hat only made it worse. I wanted to take a holiday photo to send out and had to drag out all my decorations in search of the hat.  I never did find the hat, but I did find myself thinking, “Gee, these boxes are spread all over the guest room now, so why not commence decorating?”

The only thing holding me back was knowing the housekeepers were coming the next week, and I always prefer to decorate a clean house.  After they left, however, all bets were off. 

Because we finally succumbed to getting an artificial tree a few years ago, keeping a tree alive for six weeks wasn’t an issue. I was having a hard time coming up with a good reason not to go for it.  After all, I’m like a child when it comes to Christmas. I love the decorations, the baking, and especially the music. 

Fortunately for my husband,  when I play my collection of Christmas CDs in my office all day long for weeks on end, he doesn’t have to hear them. In years past, he’s had to listen to them at least on Saturday and Sunday mornings with his coffee and newspaper. He’d still have to do that, except that our ancient stereo bit the dust this year. That means I can no longer pile five CDs in the CD player and put them on repeat. 

I have loads of “Christmas music with no words,” as my sister calls it—Mannheim Steamroller, Windham Hill, George Winston—and can easily listen to those peaceful sounds nonstop.  Of course, I also have plenty of traditional Christmas collections with Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams, and even Perry Como. 

It was thinking of the music that did it. I could hear the song “I need a little Christmas”  playing in my head, except the words were, “I need a little magic, a little joy, a little counterbalance to the nightly news.”  And that, my friends, is how it came to pass that our tree went up November 14^th. 

Please send comments to inkpenn119@gmail.com

Some gifts are extra special

What makes a gift extra special? For me, it’s that the gift tells me someone knows me inside and out and knows what will make my heart sing. Do I appreciate any gift I get?  Yes, of course.  It’s just that every once in a while, I open a package, break into a huge smile and exclaim, “Oh!”

That happened this week when I received a package in the mail from an out of state friend.  We girls long ago agreed that presents get opened as soon as they arrive. No waiting for Christmas Day or the day of our birthdays.  Just seeing the package on the front porch was special because we don’t regularly give each other gifts.  Some years only one of us sends a gift, and some years we both do; some years we send Christmas gifts; some years we send birthday gifts; some years only cards.  It’s hard to say how we decide. It may have to do with whether we’ve seen each other that year or talked frequently on the phone or just that we’ve stumbled upon that special something and knew we had to get it.

I opened my beautifully wrapped box and found three items.  The first thing I spied was a package of cocktail napkins that depicted a stack of books with titles like Chablis, Pinot Noir and Merlot, with the very clever saying, “Well Red.”   The play on words was apropos in that I’m an avid reader and enjoy a regular glass of wine, typically red. 

Next was the book, “Why We Write,” a collection of interviews with authors who explain “how and why they do what they do.”  I haven’t been writing for as long as I’ve been reading, but I enjoy doing both, and it’s quite often something I read that sparks a blog or column. When I dipped into the book, I found that one author had said essentially the same thing: “Reading is the nourishment that feeds the kind of writing you want to do.”

If it weren’t enough that my friend recognized my penchant for reading and writing, she also included an item that touched on my love of cats. It was a kitchen towel decorated with a green-eyed cat wearing a plaid scarf.  Puddin’, my calico office assistant, agreed the towel was perfect.  Any one of these presents would have brought a smile to my face, but the combination made me grin from ear to ear. In fact, I’m grinning even now as I type this.

I had to pick up the phone and call my friend right away to ask, “Do you know all of your friends so well that you can find the perfect something for each of us?”  She replied that sometimes something speaks to her, and these items did just that, especially the book.  I feel fortunate that she heard that voice and fortunate to have her as a friend.

Good friends are the best gift of all, and any additional gifts are just a bonus.  Now, every time I open the book, bring out the napkins or glance at my cat towel, I’ll think of my friend … and I’ll smile once again just as I’m doing right now.

Have a comment? Write me at  The Ink Penn.

Black Friday?

Not a chance.  Instead we turned Black Friday into Beautiful Biking Friday. With no crowds at the Greenway, temps in the 60’s and sunny skies, it was a perfect day. Though the cycling didn’t completely undo the damage done by our Thanksgiving feast, it did bring smiles to our faces.

I was hearing “Oh what a beautiful morning” in my head as we cycled the homestretch.  Tunes like that never make it from my head to my lips as no one has ever mistaken my melodious croaking for actual singing. 

My husband, on the other hand, always has a song in his heart and on his lips. For days he’d been singing a line from Lou Reed’s “Take a Walk on the Wild Side”.  So imagine him cycling along the Greenway singing “And the colored girls say Doo do doo do doo do do doo ...” except he was changing the lyrics to “And the white boys say …” or “And the Greek girls say …” Fortunately for us, there were no PC police patrolling the area or I’m sure we’d have been given a citation.

Based on the news reports, plenty of other folks must have also found something to do besides shop, as Black Friday is now being described as grey.  That led me to wonder where on earth this tradition came from, as I couldn’t recall it being around when I was younger.

Google led me to this description: “… the term ‘Black Friday’ wasn’t coined to describe the day after Thanksgiving until the mid1960s. Even then, it wasn’t a popular term nationally until around the last twenty years.” Ah-ha.  That explains why I can remember going to the mall on an occasional Friday after Thanksgiving just to get in the holiday spirit and see the decorations, but not to make any major purchases. And, heaven forbid I’d get up at the crack of dawn to go to a sale.

As for the day after Christmas sales, I only braved that madhouse when I had something to exchange and knew the selection would be gone by the end of that day and the one time I was in search of a new winter coat.  I still have that winter coat, purchased at Lord & Taylor’s thirty years ago. My husband would say that I’m a bit of a shopping fool, but I’m usually a fool with a mission. 

Have a comment? Write me at  The Ink Penn.

Baste | Breathe | Repeat

That subtitle for a Wall Street Journal article on how not to stress about preparing the quintessential Thanksgiving meal caught my eye. Yes, I have stressed over that meal in the past, but not to the extreme outlined in the WSJ.

For me, the stressful part was making the gravy. I only make gravy to accompany a roast turkey, and doing that every year or so is not enough “practice to make perfect.” Add to that my mother and/or my two sisters hovering over my shoulder offering input, often conflicting, and you get the picture.  The times I’ve made decent gravy were the times I cooked dinner only for my husband, his elderly aunt and myself.  Being able to follow a gravy recipe from the newspaper, without interruption, did the trick.

I was never one to try new recipes at Thanksgiving, as my family and friends always wanted the tried and true, which was fine by me.  What does that mean? Turkey, gravy, the Pepperidge Farm dressing recipe with minor adaptations, baked sweet potatoes vs. a casserole, green beans or roasted veggies like Brussel sprouts, carrots, onions plus cranberry sauce and rolls.  Who needs more than that?  Truth be told, none of us really wanted to eat anything beyond turkey, dressing and gravy, but felt obligated to at least put something green in our mouths.

I haven’t cooked a Thanksgiving dinner in several years, as my husband and I have been invited to eat with friends or family for several years running.  The two years we spent with friends at their mountain house, I was only in charge of the dressing and baked sweet potatoes. Last year when we spent the day with friends locally, I was asked to make my specialty—Greek salad.

This year, I couldn’t believe my good fortune when the same friends asked me to bring Greek pastries from my neighborhood bakery.  That Greek bakery has become my go-to spot any time I need dessert, which is pretty much only when I entertain or take dessert to someone else’s house.

It’s been so many years since I’ve had to prepare an entire Thanksgiving meal that I was taken by surprise when I ran into Trader Joe’s this past Sunday to pick up Greek olive oil and found the store packed … until I realized everyone was stocking up for Thanksgiving.  That experience prompted me to give thanks that I was once again off the hook for the big meal.

With nothing to do except visit the bakery for pastries, I have time for other fun things, like trying a new recipe for cinnamon almonds.  Because I make sugared peanuts every year at Christmas, I was intrigued by a Facebook post for a similar recipe for almonds.  This one calls for prepping the nuts in a crockpot before baking them in the oven, unlike the peanut recipe in which the peanuts start in a big pot on top of the stove.  My plan is to take some to my friends on Thanksgiving day to see what they think.

Of course, my friends are so addicted to my sugared peanuts, it may not matter how good the almonds are. Why do I say that? Because the one year I failed to include the peanuts in the Christmas gift bags we couples exchange at our annual dinner, the outcry was deafening. Heaven forbid I disappoint them again.

Have a comment? Write me at The Ink Penn.

A Snow Globe for you

Please join us for the Christmas season at our house.  Imagine shaking a snow globe and seeing a home with a red front door opening to a cozy living room scene. What will you find inside that home?

• A full size Christmas tree in one corner with a crocheted angel topper
• A small tree decorated all in cat ornaments in another
• Yet another corner with  a fire glowing in the wood burning stove
• A metal ornament tree sporting Woolworth’s ornaments from the ‘50s
• Sparkling jars filled with icicle lights
• Bookshelves displaying  a collection of Santas and an assortment of Christmas cards
• Stuffed Christmas bears and cats peeking out of baskets
• A two-foot stuffed reindeer greeting guests in the entry hall
• Greenery and mittens hung from the stair railing
• Christmas candles, pillows, nutcrackers, stockings and more scattered throughout the living room, kitchen and dining room 

Imagine you are there and the fire is keeping you warm, but if you’re still cold, grab one of the many throws in the basket beside the couch.  Perhaps the cat will crawl up in your lap and purr and the dog will lie by your feet, only occasionally coming over to nudge your hand for a head rub. 

Now picture yourself in a comfy, snuggly robe, reaching for a steaming mug of coffee. Think of a weekend morning and see yourself reading the paper with Christmas music playing softly in the background.  Can you hear Mannheim Steamroller, piano music by Danny Wright and George Winston, and A Winter’s Solstice by the Windham Hill Artists or maybe the TV is tuned to Sounds of the Season with Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney, Julie Andrews and all the other artists you listened to as a child.

Shake the snow globe again and imagine an evening scene appears, with you in your sweater or sweatshirt watching Holiday specials on TV-- a Charlie Brown Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the Grinch.  Are you smiling yet?

 Here’s wishing one and all a very Merry Christmas, complete with a magical snow globe beneath the tree.

Christmas Cleaning Frenzy

I know, I know, it’s only Thanksgiving, but Christmas is right around the corner, and I always want things a bit neater around the house before I start decorating.  Add the fact that I’m having a small gathering at my house on December 5, and you’ll be able to visualize the state of my home.

Boxes of decorations have come out of the closets and up from the basement, and some Christmas items have already been taken to the consignment shop. Those not suitable for consigning will soon be on their way to the thrift shop up the street.  You too probably have a few items you’d describe as “I like this, but can’t seem to find a place for it.”  I decided to get rid of some of those, but naturally I’ve ordered a few new items, like a lighted swag for the porch.

I’ve always loved decorating for Christmas and for most of my adult life have decorated my home to the hilt.  When I was a child in New York, we always had a tree and outdoor lights and the occasional decorated windows, but I think that was the extent of our decorating.  Remember putting artificial snow on windows?  I’m sure I’m dating myself with that memory.

I’m convinced my love of Christmas and my extreme love of decorating came from my other mother, my mother-in-law who enjoys everything Christmas.  My boxes are filled with Christmas items she made and gave me over the years:  the quilted tree skirt, the crocheted angel tree topper, stockings and aprons, you name it. We’ve always laughed about her having to have a roaring fire Christmas day, even when it was 75°.  Believe it or not, Atlanta temps can range from a chilly zero on up into the 70’s. I recall a particularly frigid Christmas morning, back when I was in my twenties, when it was only 5°.

My collection of decorations grew by leaps and bounds when one of my girlfriends started visiting every year with her children to help decorate my tree.  She was a master at making bows, so my home began to fill with bows, garlands, wreathes and more, plus whatever unique holiday knickknack she brought me each year.  I now have so many decorations that I just pick and choose what to put out each December.

I have more ornaments than I can possibly put on one tree, but still I have a hard time resisting new ones.  When my mom stopped putting up trees, I inherited her collection of U.S. Capitol Historical Society ornaments and her original glass Woolworth ornaments.  All of those go up every year. Then I have a friend who uses ornaments as place settings for our annual holiday gathering, so that’s another 50 or so ornaments I’ve collected through the years. That’s why I also have a four foot artificial tree to go with the big one. Yet here I sit contemplating going to a local Holiday Artist Market, where I’m sure to find something else I can’t live without.

 

First, though, I must get through the cleaning frenzy, which has now extended to the kitchen counters and cabinets. To clear the counters, I must make room in the cabinets. Do I really need the gazillion glass vases that have come my way over the years or all the Gladware that seems to multiply? I think not.  It may even be time to donate at least one set of silverware to the thrift shop.  There’s no telling where this frenzy could lead, but I do know it will end, at least temporarily, before the first holiday guest arrives.

Everyone Loves a Parade

My husband almost always participates in our local July 4^th Parade, walking with the VFW group.  It’s filled with floats, bands and sometimes special treats like the Wells Fargo Stage Coach and the Idaho Potato truck. This year, for the first time, he also joined his fellow members of the Atlanta Vietnam Veterans Business Association to march in the Veterans Day Parade in downtown Atlanta.

The parade kicked off at 11:11 AM, and before that, I had a chance to chat with one of the parade coordinators, who told me that the number of groups participating in the parade continues to grow each year and this was one of the largest. I wondered aloud if it had anything to do with this being the anniversary year of D-Day and the start of WWI.  Conversely, I noticed that the spectators were pretty sparse, and one of the AVVBA members mentioned that was usually the case. Our annual Atlanta Christmas parade often has spectators six deep, and I suspect the turnout for our Dunwoody July 4^th parade tops the number that came out for this one.

I can’t speak to who else marched in the parade beyond the groups immediately surrounding the AVVBA group, as I stuck with them along the sidelines as they marched. There were a number of ROTC groups in the line-up, and right in front of the Vietnam Vets was a group representing the Atlanta Hawks, preceded by the Atholl Highlanders (USA) Pipes & Drums of Stone Mountain.  If you glance at their Wikipedia entry, you’ll learn that they’re a busy group: their appearances with The Chieftains at the Fox in 2009 and in Edinburgh in 2005 for the Pipe Fest parade are just a few performances named.   Hearing the Pipes & Drums warm up in the staging area and then play along the route was worth the price of admission.  Well, since admission was free, perhaps it was worth the price of the MARTA fare to get there and back.

The Vietnam vets served 40-50 years ago, so it’s only fitting that the group has its fair share of gray hair and hearing aids. No matter, with shoulders back and heads held high, they marched and waved and had a grand time, honoring veterans of all eras and seeming to erase the years that had passed.  They marched with pride and vigor on past the reviewing stand, until, that is, they wisely chose to veer off the parade route and hit Der Biergarten for lunch and, of course, beer.  Come to think of it, they were still marching as they hit the door. There, they proved that age had not hampered their beer drinking abilities in the least.

Even though it looked as though the parade participants outnumbered the spectators, it was clear that all involved enjoyed themselves.  After all, everyone loves a parade.

100 Books to Read in a Lifetime

“So many books, so little time. With this in mind, the Amazon Books editors set out to compile a list of 100 Books to Read in a Lifetime. We had a few goals when we started out: We wanted the list to cover all stages of a life (which is why you'll find children's books in here), and we didn't want the list to feel like homework. Of course, no such list can be comprehensive – our lives, we hope, are long and varied – but we talked and argued and sifted and argued some more and came up with a list, our list, of favorites.”

This is not your father’s Oldsmobile--not your English teacher’s list. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall as the Amazon staff debated their list, and I must admit I’ve only read 25 of their recommendations. I read quite a few in high school and as a college English major, because they were required reading.  I’m pretty sure The Sun Also Rises, The Great Gatsby, Great Expectations and To Kill a Mockingbird were high school reading, while Catch 22, Catcher in the Rye, 1984 and Slaughterhouse Five were assigned in college. The rest were picked up for pure pleasure along the way.

I read In Cold Blood and Portnoy’s Complaint because so many folks recommended them, though I can’t say they were a pleasure. The World According to Garp, on the other hand, is an all time favorite.  I have a vivid memory of vacationing in the Bahamas, standing in the galley of our sailboat with book in hand, reading.

Little House on the Prairie books were favorites from the library. Other than Dr. Seuss, Nancy Drew, The Bobbsey Twins and a few classics like Heidi, we didn’t purchase many books when I was little, but I still have those my Mom bought me prominently displayed on my bookshelf. Uh-oh, I’m headed down memory lane--The Five Little Peppers, Big Red, Black Beauty—and need to reel myself in.

At the other extreme in subject matter, Valley of the Dolls doesn’t strike me as a must read. It was one of those racy books I read in high school, which I’m sure I didn’t really understand back then. I’d have to agree that Donna Tartt’s Secret History was a great read, reminding me in many ways of A Separate Peace, which didn’t make the list.

I can think of plenty of books that coulda / shoulda been on the list. Amazon, in fact, invites readers to comment on the list and make suggestions via goodreads. A quick glance at that site reveals some worthy additions—Jane Eyre, Little Women, Animal Farm, Wuthering Heights.  I smiled when I saw Watership Down, which I’d completely forgotten.

Of the 25 I’ve read, I only strongly disagree with one--Gone Girl. It’s a book everyone said I had to read, but once I did, I didn’t care for it--at all.  I think it was the absence of likable characters. I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll put a book down and stop reading it if it doesn’t grab me, something I never did when I was younger. Gone Girl I finished only because I wanted to see what happened to the characters, no matter how loathsome.

The good news is there are plenty of enjoyable books to choose from, and if my Amazon and library sale purchases are anything to judge by, I’m making every effort to get to them all.

'Twas the Day after Christmas

And all through the house, not a creature was stirring. Nope, strike that--everyone was stirring at our house.  The animals and I were up at seven, followed at eight by my husband.  I had my coffee, read the paper, headed out in search of unique Christmas containers for next year and struck gold at my first stop.

We are one of five couples who meet for dinner every year in mid December.  The hosts beautifully decorate their home and provide the main course of grilled beef tenderloin, while the rest of us bring appetizers, sides, wine, and dessert.  Most importantly, we all come bearing gift bags.

Years ago, I found cloth bags instead of the usual paper ones and ever since, it has become my annual quest to find interesting containers.  One year I found wooden sleighs, another year tin snowmen.  Last year for some reason I went to Hobby Lobby, someplace I never go, and found tall decorated Christmas boxes to fill with goodies, so it seemed a good place to start this time.

Finding surprises for the containers is a year-long adventure too. I like to shop while on vacation, and I bring back things like mustard from Dijon, France, maple syrup from Vermont or lavender lotion from the Olympic Peninsula in Washington.  Homemade sugared peanuts are the only constants in my yearly gift bags, and it’s clear that our friends consider them mandatory.  

In years past, the bags were primarily filled with homemade cookies, candies and breads, but we’ve tapered off on those, thank goodness. The two edible goodies I can count on receiving every year are peanut brittle and Chex mix, and those don’t last long at our house.

You never know what other fun items the year will bring.  This year I received a bar of goat milk soap scented with jasmine and rosemary and a battery-powered necklace of Christmas lights.  I’ve worn the necklace everywhere and made lots of folks smile.  Other years we’ve gotten unique kitchen utensils, jellies, spice rubs, hand-carved ornaments, you name it.  One of the craftsmen in the group made birdhouses one year that were unique to each of us. Mine was a bank complete with a drive-through lane, since I’m the resident banker in the group.  Another year my husband made Christmas birdhouses for everyone, painted with a snow scene.

The 2014 containers are ready to fill, and I’m smiling as I sit here thinking about shopping for Christmas gifts all year long. We have a short vacation planned for January, and I’m looking forward to continuing the hunt.                         

Christmas Past

I seem to have a problem keeping watches, and I had a sudden ah-ha today that my problem began the Christmas I was eight years old. That year, my youngest sister was born on December 23^rd.  Those were the days when mothers spent several nights in the hospital after giving birth, so my mom missed Christmas morning with her other two daughters, and my father had to play Santa that year.

We lived in Queens, NYC, and even though my mother didn’t drive at the time, she had purchased and wrapped all of our gifts so everything would be ready.  According to family legend, my father rarely participated in Christmas shopping and certainly not in wrapping.  In his defense, he did travel a good bit for business back then, and he did pay for all the gifts.

In the North, the presents from Santa were wrapped like all the other presents, unlike the South, where Santa’s gifts are arranged beneath the tree unwrapped. My mom always wrote “From Santa” on those packages. Christmas morning, my four-year old sister and I tore into our presents as children do.  When there was nothing left but mounds of wrapping paper and ribbon, Daddy called Mom in the hospital. I’m not sure whether we all got to speak with her, but I do recall she asked if I liked my new watch.  My response was “what watch?” Not only had my father not participated in shopping and wrapping, he had no idea what we were supposed to find beneath the tree. We dug frantically through the piles of wrapping paper until we found the tiny watch box. Phew!

I’m not sure how long I managed to hold on  to that watch, but when I was in high school, I lost a watch I’d gotten for my birthday one year. It was a scarab watch, which was all the rage back then.  I took it off while shopping with my Mom, as it kept getting hung up in the sleeves as I was trying on clothes.  I only realized it was gone when I was trying on something in another shop.  We rushed back to the first store only to discover that whoever found my watch in the dressing room had decided to keep it.  My mom was furious at my carelessness and loudly declared that she was never buying me another watch.  That seems a tad dramatic, but that was the proclamation.

Fortunately for me, my dad disagreed and I received a lovely gold watch for graduation that year.  I guess I’ve pretty much managed to hold on to my watches since then until recently. For my 25^th anniversary at the bank, I got to choose a gift and chose the proverbial watch.  That was almost six years ago, and now I’ve misplaced it somewhere.  Honestly, I know I wore it Thanksgiving Day, but have been unable to find it since. I wear my exercise watch most days, so I can’t say when I really saw it last.  I’ve searched the jewelry drawer and all over the house to no avail.

This time, I’m blaming our cat Puddin’. The only thing I can think is that I removed the watch and put it on the end table near my chair one evening.  Puddin’ is known to bat things off the table—pens, coasters, you name it.  When she does, those items usually land in the basket beside my chair, the one I put the newspapers in as I finish reading them.  I can only think that the watch landed in the basket and was buried in the papers, which I then scooped up and put in the recycle bin.  Who knows?  I keep thinking maybe it will turn up in one of the places where I’ve looked over and over again.

I may have lost a watch, but there’s always a silver lining:  I’m smiling as I reflect on memories of a Christmas past. And I can even smile at Puddin’.

A True Patriot

Adapted from a 2012 Dunwoody Crier column

Independence Day comes complete with stars and stripes, fireworks, hot dogs, and here in Dunwoody, Georgia, our annual Fourth of July Parade.  My husband marches or rides in the parade with members of his VFW post, and I meet them at the end where we see friends, listen to patriotic music and eat the requisite July 4^th hot dogs.  

When I think of Americans displaying their patriotic spirit, I can’t help but think of my grandfather’s visit to Atlanta in the late 60’s. As far as we know, Grandpa, who lived in New York City, had never visited the South. My father acted as tour guide, taking Grandpa to places that you wouldn’t see in New York--Stone Mountain, the Dairy Queen and Johnny Reb’s.  My sister recalls being out with Daddy and Grandpa and Grandpa wanting to stop and say the Pledge of Allegiance whenever he saw an American flag.