Oh, Susan. I can't wait 'til your books are published. Also? Insent from my gmail address. If you don't get it, please let me know.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. There are so many Christmases to think of when reading this that it was hard to pick just one. My brother drank paint thinner one Christmas and woke up with his eyes sealed shut. This was upsetting for me but probably more Mom’s holiday hell memory since her memory would actually include fixing it. A few years later, we all got a virus. That evening turned out okay, though, once the medicine worked, but the day blew.

Divorce brings its own holiday hell, as parents are sad and guilty. One side cries the other tries to buy affection, and the stepparents get upset that I don’t love them yet.My love can be hard to win, but it’s not made in Taiwan.That shit is built to last.(Not that I would say it like that, till I’m what, eighteen. Cursing makes me blush throughout my teens.) Then I’m in college, poverty Christmases. One year I get no rides to even shop, show up empty-handed, the lowest moment of my life not actually involving death or desertion. I...um, lose my block about cursing
.This is when my dad stopped talking to me, for not being a more fun suicide. Maybe I should have filked it to fa-la-las.(But I don’t even know this until this year, after asking point blank.See, I do use those journalism skills.) To Be Continued...

When the kids were little my parents used to come to our place for Christmas morning, where cookies, fruitcake, coffee and eggnog were served as "breakfast." My parents were teetotal, so we never spiked the eggnog. Homemade, with eggs, not the bought kind out of a carton. A tradition, including the special red, green, and gold pitcher not used for anything else all year. Even the cats got some, as a Christmas treat.

Then there was the Christmas everyone got deathly ill. The clue was that the cats were puking and squirting too. "'Tis the year for salmonella, falalalala, lalalala..."

Forgive me for laughing, Bev.

We use eggbeaters now. Hee.

(natter)

Going to have to switch to eggbeaters, what with Nic and the whole cholesterol issue. They also make a fat free half and half....

(end natter)

Going to have to switch to eggbeaters, what with Nic and the whole cholesterol issue.

There's a brand of egg -- Eggland's Best -- that is supposed to be good (or, at least, doesn't raise cholesterol) for patients with diabetes and/or cholesterol/heart issues.

Oooooh! They have that at most of my local markets.

Thank you, ma'am.

So, I wrote a story.

Apologies to Neil Gaiman, of whom I am shamelessly derivative.

Detail question someone here is bound to know how to answer:

In Little Women, the Little House series, and other books of that era, characters admire and wish they had "Grecian noses." What exactly did they mean? I've always assumed it was a straight, medium sort of nose, neither too large and/or Roman nor a cute little snub, but it occurred to me that I might be pushing my own standards onto the past.

(Well, actually I like a nice, big, strong nose, especially on a man, but I know I'm unusual in that.)