Christmas, as we know, is often a time to spread cheer. And sometimes there are people out there who need more cheer than others. That’s where the Angel Card Project comes in.
You can read about it here:
Basically, you sign up and you receive a list of names (and there are A LOT of names!) of individuals who could use a boost of the Christmas spirit in the form of a simple Christmas card. That’s it. Just a card is all that is needed. It could be a boxed card, homemade, an emotional Hallmark card, any kind of a Christmas greeting card. And there is no minimum or maximum of how many people you send cards to. You could send one. You could send one hundred. For these folks just getting a Christmas card would mean the world. Many of them have very little, if anything. Some are shut-ins. Many have medical issues or disabilities. Some are imprisoned. But they all have one thing in common: they could all use a little extra joy this Christmas, even if it’s from a stranger. For many of them, that may be all the happiness they receive this holiday season.
Consider volunteering to send out a card or cards to some people who need it this year. Your heart will thank you for it.
I don’t know how many others may be able to relate to my issue. When it comes to purchasing pants for my husband as a Christmas gift, I keep having the same dilemma year after year. I have a difficult time finding his size.
It doesn’t matter if it’s jeans or dress pants I’m shopping for, hunting for the right color is one thing (especially dress pants where they seem to only have three colors to choose from), but finding the right size is like searching for a needle in a haystack.
For years my husband’s pant size was 34 x 34. I soon discovered so were most men. Sorting through the sizes I would often think to myself “why couldn’t he be a 30 x 29” because there were plenty of those. He has since graduated to size 38 x 34, which really excited me for a bit because I actually thought I’d have an easier time finding his size. Yeah, right.
In searching three stores I found one pair of pants in his size. Color black. I had to go to two more stores before finding another pair in his size. Again, color black.
Yes, I know I could save myself a lot of hassle by shopping on-line but that would take the fun out of the annual search for the perfect pair of pants.
Once again the holidays are upon us and once again I struggle with the thought that I’m just not doing them right. By “doing them right” I mean, like my mother used to. Because when she left us over twenty years ago, I took over the holiday duties. And although I’ve made them my own, I always have to ask myself if I’m doing them right.
For instance, with Thanksgiving, I know there aren’t as many homemade foods as there would be with my mother in charge. I don’t make pie crusts from scratch. I also don’t make one of each kind of pie. I make five pies and two of them are chocolate pudding pies. We no longer eat butternut squash because, although we graduated to the frozen version, it just got too time consuming heating each package up in the microwave. We don’t even use real potatoes, mainly because of time. And because we prefer instant potatoes.
When I first took over twenty years ago I made the stuffing by hand, crumbling bread in a food processor. I no longer have a food processor, as I only used it at Thanksgiving and it took up too much space in my already small kitchen. I now use pre-made seasoned bread crumbs and saute onion and celery and add it to the mix, along with water or if I want to fancy it up a bit, chicken broth. But that’s not how my mother used to make the stuffing. The way I do Thanksgiving is nothing how she used to do it.
All these years later I should accept that this is the way we do Thanksgiving now. Nobody has complained in the past twenty years and they keep coming to my house for dinner, so I must be doing something right. But I still can’t stop asking myself if I’m missing something or if I’m doing everything right.
As many have already done as well, I finally got to see this highly anticipated film. I was not disappointed.
For a full review, take a gander at my “Been there, seen it, read it, heard it, done that” page.
Once again the airwaves are filling up with the sounds of Christmas. Which is fine with me, since I love Christmas and actually listen to the music all year long.
There is one song, however, that I have grown immensely tired of hearing. No, it’s not Mariah’s song. Yet. It’s “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”. Controversy aside, I’m simply bored with it. I don’t care who sings it, I’m done with it. And it has nothing to do with its “controversy”.
No disrespect to John Legend and Kelly Clarkson’s lyrical remake this year, which I won’t get into because that topic has grown tiresome also. But whether you change the lyrics or not, it’s still a 70-year-old worn out song. You can argue over the meaning of the lyrics until the end of time, it’s not going to change the fact that, in the end, it’s just another classic Christmas song. One that has grown old with the ages. Take it or leave it.
For me, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” has gone out to pasture.