Oh Tannenbaum, Oh Tannenbaum

Ummm. Take a deep breath. There's something about the fresh, natural smell of tinsel that puts one in a festive mood. Why do I love sparkling tinsel trees? Maybe it's knowing that I'll never have to:
- vacuum up another sticky pine needle again
- or curse like a sailor as I wrestle a huge Douglas fir into or out of an unstable Christmas tree stand
- or needlessly fret that I'm destroying a (renewable) natural resource.











- Or, maybe it's just because it's easier to shop once, instead of pretending that it is a whole lot of fun to rummage--year after year--through a load of trees in a cold corner lot at the Farmer's Market.
- Or maybe it's because I like things that are pretty, sparkly, pink, green and blue.
Of course, it is difficult to pile presents underneath the Christmas tree, but I do love a challenge.
- Maybe it's because I'm turning into my grandmother -- who pulled her little artificial tree out of a box every year. Perched it on the coffee table in front of the picture window, added her favorite ornaments and called it a moment.
Reeks of tradition!














All together, everyone sing now:
O Tinsel Tree, O tinsel tree
Thy leaves are so unchanging.
Not only green when summer's here
But also when 'tis cold and drear.
O Tinsel tree, O Tinsel tree,
You fill all hearts with gaiety.
On Christmas Day, you stand so small,
Affording joy to one and all.
O Tinsel Tree, O tinsel tree
Thy leaves are so unchanging.

Listening to: Christmas Carols, what else people?
Foodstuffs: tinsel wrapped chocolates
Reading: Are you nuts? Who has time to read during Christmas.

Merry and Bright

Nothing like a little Holiday Graffiti to get things off to a great start! Exhibit "A", people. The graffiti wall in the McInerny Garage. A work that evolves each time Paddy returns home. Word to Paddy and the boys: I will be painting over it and tagging with "Madge Rules". My colors: metallic bronze and black and, perhaps, a little teal thrown in for good measure. Watch for it.



Paddy's visits are always a whirlwind of activity. Navy leave is fairly short -- barely 10 days including travel time. And direct flights out of Jacksonville can be spendy. So, we usually opt for the cheap-transfer-in-Atlanta-AirTran-Specials. Due home on the 16th, he arrived early morning -- 3 am -- on the 17th. The flight out of Atlanta was delayed -- as usual. Look! Exhibit "B": There's my boy, I caught him smiling. Relentless pursuit with a camera.



Hurricane Nora arrived on December 23. The two younger siblings had barely 4 days of crossover. Exhibit "C". Enthusiasm meets restraint. Emotional restraint, that is. Restraint is not a word that Paddy usually applies to his love of tattoos. He continues to tax my motherly understanding with an unrelenting application of permanent markings to his body. Perhaps, if he was an aboriginal warrior it would make more sense.

To the right, ladies and gentlemen, witness Exhibit "D", one of the more recent markings on his elbow. (Yes, that is an elbow--ouch!) It appears to be a Ring Wraith with amazingly preserved dentures. Forensics also indicate a nose job gone terribly, terribly wrong. But it takes a mighty big man, or a man completly secure in his masculinity, to sport chartreuse as an accent color. Interesting choice of color. Two more images were added over the duration -- NONE included a banner proclaiming "Madge-Rules." You're killing me, Paddy! Perhaps next year.


It was a whirlwind visit-so fast even the camera can barely catch them in action.







Paddy and Friends. Winter leave. They're home from school.
He's on military leave. Rules.
Time restraints.
Must sign in by 11:59 pm on 12/27/05.


So there was a bit of anxiety about getting out of town on time.



The holidays ended as they began -- in a whirlwind: Paddy left on December 27. Nora left the next day, on her birthday, December 28.

Suddenly silence.

May your days be merry and bright.

My Lucky Day.

Do you believe in signs? Symbols? Omens? Precursors? Premonitions? Well, I do, of course. First, I find not one, but two. Two four-leaf clovers that someone tucked inside a book 50-some years ago. It was just a random book from the Madge-world archives that I was paging through. And bingo! There they were, tucked in the pages. Delighted to find them, I knew that something special was on the way. Just like that song from West Side Story.


And then on December 16, who should come walking through the door? My boys! Austin (on the right), arrived home from Philly in the morning and Paddy (in the middle) blustered into the house around 3:30 a.m.--technically on December 17th. And there they are with their lovely sister, Meghan. Three out of four ain't bad. Nora arrives December 23. All right. I knew they were coming, but still--Lucky me!

Burning down the House.

Well, it is the season of Advent, the four weeks prior to Christmas. Advent prayers encourage us to "cast aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light." Let it shine.

The Downsized Thanksgiving. The bird was the word.

What, no post about Thanksgiving? No picturesque scene of siblings, boy/girl friends, widows and orphans raising a toast of thanks? No amusing anecdotes about family capers while gathered around a full-to-bursting thanksgiving table?

No Austin and Meghan teasing Nora until she cried? No one laughing so hard they blew milk out their nose? No Stevil giving them all the hairy eyeball for dropping the f-bomb during dinner. No. That’s right, no. Not this year. For, like Macaulay Culkin, I was home alone. Suddenly single. Well, living singularly anyway.
The Husband resides in Casa di McInerny on the West Coast for the winter.

Nora’s shacked up in NYC working in the wonderful world of advertising.

Paddy, a proud member of the United States Navy, is assigned to the US Carney in Mayport, Florida.

Austin’s gone Ivy League on us and is working like a flogged dog at the University of Pennsylvania. Landscape Architecture NOT landscaping, thank-you-very-much. I couldn’t be prouder even if I were a Jewish mother.

That leaves Meggie. She hasn’t abandoned her mother as yet; she’s living in Golden Valley with Mr. Wonderful. But she did spend this holiday with her in-laws. Which left me alone. I could get sappy about how time flies and how the kids are all-growed-up-and-all. But I won’t. {This is me, now pretending to be sad. Alone. How delicious. It hasn’t been bad, but that is a topic for another post.}
What about the Thanksgiving meal? Huh? Did I eat Turkey Noodle Soup and fritos? No, sir, I did not. I did manage to break bread twice in one day. First, at my lovely sister, Rita’s. Her usual groaning sideboard and fully-extended-table to accommodate her cast of characters was also reduced to the bare essentials: Her Hubby, her beautiful girls. And me. Her usual crowd was also scattered this year. The small party did nothing to simplify the meal—she did it up right. We started the meal Italian style with a primi course of butternut squash ravioli--recipe courtesy of Doris. Yummy.

Then, over to northeast Minneapolis to the Gilhooly/Belks. Beth cooks good. Beth cooks big. White tablecloths. Real silver. Real Waterford. Bouquets of flowers everywhere. Real classy. And real fun. Martha before Martha got famous. Some years as many as 25 around a huge old table that extended into the living room. Like me, this holiday was supersized in reverse. Just the family, just the kids. And me. But bless Gilhooly, she didn’t hold back. It was the full-meal deal. I ate until I was full-to-bursting. And drove home alone.


Eating: Poached chicken bosoms, broccoli and carmelized onions.
Listening to: Vivaldi -- Eight Seasons by Gidon Kremer
Currently amused by: Project Runway NEW SEASON!