Uncharted Territory

We have finally made it past 24.5 weeks, which is as far as we've ever been.  Everything still seems to be going well so long as I show up for my progesterone shot each week.  I've actually been brave enough to decorate what will hopefully be the nursery with a coat of paint and some wall hangings.  I was able to use a lot of stuff we had already and some basic supplies from the craft hoard, so the whole room was done over for just an additional $47.  Johanna will be a thrift store baby, for sure, but that doesn't mean she can't have nice things.

 

A good Christmas was had by all, but unfortunately the most outstanding gift we received was a rear-ender fender bender on Christmas Eve from a woman who doesn't believe in stopping before a right on red.  We're hoping to get Dave in a rental before work starts next week.  That poor little car has had its butt crunched too many times.

Deliver Us From Evil, the Book

I've finished reading "Beware the Night," by Ralph Sarchie and Lisa Collier Cool, now retitled "Deliver Us From Evil" after the movie.  Despite the major players being generally sedevacantist, sedeprivationist, or sedesomething else, it is a very good read.  If I had any complaint, it was that the main story is constantly derailed by related anecdotes, but these anecdotes are equally interesting, so I'm inclined to just forgive it and move on.  By the time you finish the book, you're less inclined to waste time arguing niggling points about papal authority and would rather just get on with arranging to have your house blessed.

After reading Gabriel Amorth, Malachi Martin, and Matt Baglio, there were still some new and interesting observations to take away from Ralph Sarchie's experiences.  Here are some highlights.

• Halloween is no joke.  The negative spiritual character if late October and early November existed long before the holiday.  That's why it's Halloween.  The tradition of costuming evolved as a means to possibly avoid possession by remaining incognito while the demons were roaming.  Even now, Mr. Sarchie has observed a dramatic surge in new cases during this season.
• Another especially bad time is Christmas.  There seems to be a demonic rampage every year around the birth of Christ.
• Only the most powerful spirits, called the true devils, can manipulate sacred objects.
• Demons often masquerade as ghosts or human spirits.  However, when demonic apparitions attempt to appear human, there is always something wrong.  Limbs or the face may be missing, or there may be some other distortion.  If you encounter an allegedly sympathetic spirit who exists only from the waist up, be very suspicious.
• Incubi and succubi do happen.  Yikes.
• Mr. Sarchie has observed three different varieties of demonic approach.  There are the "intellectuals," who approach a target with what may seem to be deep insights, religious experiences, and secret knowledge.  The "con artists" attempt to pass themselves off as human ghosts with sympathetic stories to engage their victims.  The "brutes" are more bestial and cause clawing, growling, and biting behaviors in possession.
• If anyone needed the advice, don't rent your basement to Satanists. 

Also, we're also actually not supposed to talk about this too much because recognition could draw the demon to you.  However, if we don't talk about it at all, it's not as if they'll all just go home to Hell and leave us alone.  Best to be aware, I say.  We are seriously looking into having a priest over to bless our apartment thoroughly, and while he's here were going to have him bless all the religious articles we've been collecting over the years, and that canister of sea salt from Monterey.  We'll try to always have holy water, oil and salt on hand from now on.  It's really the least we can do.

Needlework Zombie

Need sleep.  I've been making custom Christmas stockings for several years now, but each year they seem to get more elaborate and eat up more of my Advent with desperate late nights and entire days spent with needle in hand.  I stayed up until 3:30 AM this morning, powered by Rockstar, and now the tips of my right thumb and index finger feel like I've bruised the bone squeezing the tiny beading needle all night and all day yesterday . . . and all the day before, etc.

Here are some of the finished results for this year.  These were for some cousins in Montana, made to match one I made for their son two years ago.  These are all just craft felt on denim, cut by hand, assembled by hand, painted by hand, and sewn down along every edge by hand.  Even the letters are cut by hand from printed templates and hand beaded.

I'm starting to feel like it's giving me carpal tunnel issues.  I wouldn't recommend this kind of minute hand-stitching to anyone who has a life.  These were actually finished a few weeks ago, but I had a hard time getting decent pictures with the lighting around here.  Now I'm frantically working on two more which are even more elaborate, each with several celtic knots.  Imagine sewing all along the borders of a celtic knot.  

Yeah, it takes about 12-24 man-hours each.  We haven't quite figured out when during the course of all this the housework is supposed to get done.  The dog feels neglected.

It's not that I mind doing it, but deadlines are a killer.  Sometimes I would just rather do something else for a while.

My Crafty Brother

My brother is usually the soul of practicality, and this time the end result looked very trendy.  Christmas wrapping made of old outdated navigation charts: frugal AND green!  More interesting than old newspaper any day.

Pinterest, you know this is for you.

Welcome To the Fake World

It's no wonder people don't seem to have a firm grasp of reality.  This whole culture of American consumerism is permeated with rank artificiality.  I spent eight hours at work yesterday unboxing more fake candles than I have ever seen in one place before.  I promised myself years ago that I would never own a plastic battery-powered candle.  "Flickers like a real candle!"  Not it doesn't; it flickers like a faulty lightbulb!

We have fake smells, fake flavors, fake fur, fake leather, fake flowers, fake trees, fake fingernails, fake diamonds, fake sunlight, whole fake lives in fake computer-generated worlds with fake friends and fake money.  Even real money is fake now.  Did you know quarters and dimes used to be made of silver?  Maybe you did, but lots of other people don't.  Almost everything real in our lives seems to have been replaced by a cheaper, more convenient plastic imitation.

I think it's high time we got back to the nitty-gritty.  Burn real candles this holiday season, and set the table with real flowers once in a while.  I don't care whether you buy a prepared arrangement or pick some dandelions out of the backyard.  It will be worth it, I promise.

Too Much Hanky-Panky In the Workplace

Seriously, I work at a retail store.  I was there all night . . . with two other women . . . in different corners of the building.  You would think there would be no better environment for intense concentration and productivity.  But I reckoned without the music being piped in through the speaker system.

Personally, I prefer to have music while I work.  It usually keeps me awake and makes the time pass more pleasantly.  But, as of yesterday, they've started throwing in a few Christmas tunes with the regular pop assortment.  I don't mind Christmas music, and I have been known to play it out of season while working on Christmas projects.  A little Adeste Fidelis or First Noel gives me warm fuzzy feelings.  However, there are several selections I absolutely detest (Jingle Bell Rock, Run Run Rudolph, By Gosh By Golly, Frosty the Snowman, to name just a few), and unfortunately that seems to be all the store is going to play.  Just to make it ten times worse, they only play the jazzed-up modern covers, which frankly sound more ridiculous than the originals.

BUT, I will listen to Frosty all day long if I could tune out the "adult themed" carols.  I know practically all songs are love songs, and they usually aren't singing about having some cocoa and watching TV.  But if I have to hear the "extra sexy" version of Baby, It's Cold Outside every work day for the next six weeks, I may have to start slapping people.  It's like being trapped in a closet with two people getting hot and heavy on the other side of the door.  You don't want to listen, but you don't have much choice.  Besides that, the whole premise of the song is one selfish bastard trying to get what he wants in spite of his lady friend's better judgment (after quite possibly slipping her a rufie), and that bothers me.

Maybe I'm over-thinking it, but it made it very difficult to work.  It didn't help that the woman's voice sounded vaguely like a case of tinnitus.  I'm trying to count holes in the pegboard to set planograms, and I had to start counting out loud.  Reprieve was brief, as the musical canoodlers were soon followed by THREE (count them) different versions of Merry Christmas, Baby, which to me sounds a lot like "Thanks, babe, for buying me all this expensive stuff (and probably providing other services), and letting me crash on your couch, because I'm probably a deadbeat leach." That also bothered me.

But, the coup de grace, and probably a new low for the whole genre of Christmas music, was Backdoor Santa.  Basically, in almost as many words, this guy who considers himself some kind of sex god goes sneaking around through backdoors "when the other boys are out" pleasuring all the women of the neighborhood who love it so much they call him "Backdoor Santa."  Oh, and he bribes the children of these households with loose change to leave him and mom alone.  The sleeze meter was maxed out.

This is as fabric store!  Little old ladies shop here!  Who picks out this music, and what's wrong with them?!

Christmas Necklace

My sister sent me a very nice antique (brass?) St. Joan of Arc rosary centerpiece for Christmas.  It really is amazing what one can find on Ebay.  As it happens, our local craft store carries some very nice brass jewelry elements by "Vintaj Natural Brass Co.", so this is the final product.

I may add some beads to the pendant and earrings later.

The Santa Claus Problem and Theoretical Children

While it's taking longer than expected for us to successfully produce/acquire children, we've at least had a chance to come to some kind of agreement on some of those pesky differences of opinion which usually present themselves while attempting to combine two different parenting styles.  One of those is the Santa Claus Problem.

When I was growing up, we were thoroughly convinced Santa was real.  And for those of little faith, there were always the vanishing cookies and the sooty boot prints for proof.  The new trend I'm noticing, especially among the more committed Catholic circles, is the attempt to downplay, replace, or simply do away with Santa.

Admittedly, today's Santa bears little resemblance to a fourth century bishop.  But there was a kind of comfortable universality in the general acceptance of his existence by all our childhood friends.  When we were older and observed all the backward bending that young Catholic parents were doing to avoid Santa, we began to wonder what would happen when the children began comparing notes and wondering why one got presents from the Magi while another house was visited by the Infant Jesus.  A simple division of labor would probably be the easiest explanation, but it still seemed very confusing. 

Some people we know are determined to ignore Santa altogether, which seems like an excessively rational and party-pooperish thing to do to your kids.  They won't question it until they see all the neat stuff their friends acquired over the holidays, and unless you're successfully raising young saints, the only conclusion they'll reach is that mom and dad are no fun.  It also won't make you terribly popular in the neighborhood when your child goes about disabusing all the other children of their faith in Santa.  

Recognizing the excessive commerciality of Santa Claus, and yet not wanting to do away with him entirely, we reached the St. Nicholas Compromise.  The longer we talked about it, the more elaborate it became.  The series of holidays associated with the Christmas season seem taylor made for it.

1.  December 6, St. Nicholas' Day.  We like to think of it as a kind of progress report day.  If the children have been good, they receive the semi-traditional assortment of edibles in their stockings.  Problem children will receive a stick, or something similarly barren and uninteresting, as a warning to shape up before Christmas.

2.  December 7-24.  Just to establish the fact that St. Nicholas (or his agents) is watching, the children will receive occasional notes in their stockings, either to praise exemplary behavior or to address continuing problems.  I can let my artistic side run a little wild with this.  Misbehave in church, and St. Nicholas WILL be sending you a nastygram.

3.  December 25, Christmas.  Good children will receive their gifts as scheduled (perhaps sent by St. Nicholas, rather than brought in person).  Naughty children, who persist in calling our bluff, will receive nothing, but will be offered a chance to redeem themselves by Epiphany.  

4.  January 6, Epiphany.  Reformed children will be given their belated Christmas presents, and those who have been good all along will probably receive something tasty and sugary. 

This seems to save all the good stuff while doing away with all the nonsense about reindeer and the north pole.  Maybe I'll draw up a fancy certificate naming us, the parents, St. Nicholas' specially assigned agents for this family, just in case the kids demand to see our credentials.  I'll have to work on my St. Nicholas signature.

The Ghost of Christmas Gassed

Merry Christmas Eve!  Nothing encourages the old holiday cheer like waking up at 3 AM and realizing the mysterious neighborhood skunk has blitzed the house once again.  We set up a fortress of air fresheners, but only the allergen filter had any lasting effect.  Fortunately the neighbors have given us dogsitting duty over the entire holiday, so we have a place to which to flee.  Unfortunately, they have no Christmas decor at all.  If nothing else, it will match the general shambles our holiday plans have become.

We were going to roast a duck, but the scourge of morning sickness has persisted into week 15 and cooking is the last thing on my mind.  We decided to get Chinese takeout today and have hotdogs tomorrow.  Not very traditional, but tasty.

Tis the Season

The wind and the wet are finally back.  I always did like the cloudy grey look, and now I can finally put my spiffy new winter coat to good use.  Unfortunately, it also means the ants have been flooded out of their own homes and are running amok in the bathroom.  Being the same chronically disorganized California ants I remember from last year, they aren't good enough to march in straight lines, so I have no idea where they're coming in.  Standing by, with a bottle of Windex.

David was adamant that there would be no hint of Christmas festivities in the house until at least the first Sunday of Advent, despite the rest of the neighborhood.  That seemed reasonable to me, but when I explained that decorating the tree was a family affair and that he'd better get his homework done early, he decided the preceding Saturday would be just fine.

Jumping the Gun

I remember when the Bearenstain Bears were complaining that the Christmas season seemed to start earlier and earlier every year, even as early as the day after Thanksgiving.  Gasp.  Well, apparently somebody abolished Thanksgiving some time ago, because now it's Christmas as soon as the shriveled jack-o-lanterns go to compost.

It seems the importance and/or general impact of any holiday is directly related to it's marketability.  The grocery stores and caterers still have a special place in their hearts for Thanksgiving, but the rest of the retail forces have relatively little seasonal merchandise to peddle in November.  There are a few endcaps for the turkey napkins and paper plates, orange plasticware, and the occasional autumnal votive candle.  There are no Thanksgiving carols, no Thanksgiving gifts, no Thanksgiving candy.  This is probably a blessing in itself, but in practical terms it means that Santa is fair game two months in advance.

I love Christmas.  I've been waiting for months to unveil our awesome tree and play Charlie Brown music. But even I'd feel silly doing it this early.  The radio hasn't actually started playing carols yet, but the Christmas commercials fill the gaps.  Even the PX is starting to sneak instrumental renditions of The Twelve Days of Christmas over the intercom, sandwiched in between the usual non-seasonal selections.

Short Notice

Apparently David won't be able to stay home as long as we thought he would over Christmas. Due to leave restrictions he won't be home until the Monday before Christmas, and has to be gone at a ridiculous hour the morning after the wedding to catch his flight back. Prayers for the timely departure and arrival of that particular flight would be very much appreciated.

As far as "for better, for worse" goes, the worse part of being married will seem like the better compared to all this.

Targetisms

Scratch that. The Christmas lights won't set next week, because they set YESTERDAY. And today we dragged out lots of glitter and tinsel, bows and bells, the whole nine yards. Apparently a natural consequence of keeping the planogram schedule of the store a week ahead means we're a week early with the early Christmas set. When does this begin to get ridiculous? It isn't even October yet, and Halloween is still out in full force. I remember when the Bearenstein Bears were complaining about Christmas starting the day after Thanksgiving. Now apparently the week after Labor Day is acceptable.

On a slightly related topic, it was while neck deep in these Christmas lights that we discovered the worst example of cookie-cutter English I have ever seen. It was printed on a large carton originally intended to be stored and displayed on the riser shelf, far above anyone's reach, but with a picture on the side to look decorative before it was broken down and added to the shelves from which one could actually shop. In an attempt to convey this concept, the Chinese manufacturers had printed:

"THIS CARTON IS RISERABLE AND NOT SALEABLE"

What a nifty way to try turning nouns into verbs. Shakespeare could get away with making up words, but I don't think these two will make the cut.

While we're discussing the misuse of the English language, no one at Target seems to know what the word "compliance" really means. It's been bothering me for the last twelve months.

COMPLIANCE - noun (1) the action or fact of complying with a wish or command: they must secure each other's cooperation or compliance. - (COMPLIANCE WITH) the state or face of according with or meeting rules or standards: all imports of timber are IN COMPLIANCE WITH regulations.

When Target talks about "compliance" they mean compliance with the regulations regarding lawful breaks and lunches. However, when someone misses his lunch or is late in taking it, he is accused of being "in compliance" and subject to disciplinary action, etc., which grammatically makes no sense. People talk about not wanting "to be in compliance" as though that would be a bad thing, and everyone is encouraged to "stay out of compliance" by taking their breaks on time. I know vocabulary isn't a large part of the public education curriculum, but this use of the word is simply incorrect, and I pray it isn't used this way on a corporate level.

Also, this past week I noticed that some of the promotional signage in the women's apparel read: "MORE COLORS, LESS DOLLARS." I believe "fewer" would have been more correct in that case.

Is it just me, or is this getting a little embarrassing?