Willpower Wishes

Photo courtesy of Charles M. Wrenn III

The Merriam-Webster dictionary says “willpower” is energetic determination.  I wonder if Walmart is offering any of that during their after-Christmas sale? I’ll take a cart full of it, please.

My problem is  . . . I. Can’t. Stop. Eating.

It all began with Linda’s nut roll, escalated with Deb’s truffles, got worse with Cheryl’s Mississippi mud pie, and became a full blown catastrophe with Miriam’s cookies and coffee cake. Never mind the Honeybaked Ham leftovers still in the fridge.  Every cell in my body is screaming at me to cease and desist.

“Please!” They’re crying in their little cell voices, all 75 trillion of them. “Not another bite! Our fat cell companions are expanding and there’s going to be a population explosion! Watch out! It’s a hostile takeover!”

Why can’t I pass by a seasonal goody without taking a bite? You’d think I’m never going to have the opportunity to eat again, the way I’m nom-nom-nomming my way through the month of December. I’ve packed on some pounds, too, as evidenced by my Christmas day decision to wear sweatpants instead of blue jeans. The elastic waist wasn’t just appreciated, buttercup—it was necessary to prevent the asphyxiation of my tummy by Levi Strauss.  

Every year I tell myself I’m going to exercise my willpower to stay away from the goodies, and every year I finish up December by digging my Weight Watchers’ guide from the back of the pantry. Every stinkin’ year.

Maze mice learn faster than I do.

There must be a way to boost my willpower, because there’s no way to stop the influx of holiday yummies into my kitchen. I could threaten my friends by promising to write unflattering portrayals of them into my novel if they don’t quit with the goodies already. But that wouldn’t be very jolly of me, and the fam might protest.

What do you do to strengthen your willpower over the holidays? Anything? Or do you eat what you want and figure you’ll pay the price come January?  If you have willpower secrets, I think you should share. As long it doesn’t involve chocolate, I should be okay.

See you next for Book Blurb Friday!

Lisa

Book Blurb #43: The Hattfelds and McLoys

The Christmas holiday is just days away! Wishing you and yours many blessings, no matter what your beliefs may be.  Merry Christmas!

TGIBBF!

Welcome again to Book Blurb Friday.  If you're a newbie, here's the scoop so you understand what follows.  Please click HERE or click the tab under the blog header for details of the Book Blurb Friday meme.  This is the shortened, abridged version:

Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.

Below is this week's "book cover," generously offered for our creative blurbs by Kathy Matthews at Oregon Gifts of Comfort and Joy.

The Hattfelds and McLoys

(146 words)

For four decades, Jacob Hattfeld’s “Bodacious Breads” has operated next door to Liam McLoy’s “Luscious Lattes.” It seems a match made in heaven, but the former high school gridiron rivals have been feuding longer than they’ve shared sidewalk space.

When McLoy’s beautiful granddaughter Aileen visits he makes sure she knows to steer clear of Hattfeld’s establishment. Unfortunately, he doesn’t say anything about avoiding his rival’s handsome grandson, Caleb, and when a romance heats up, sparks fly.

Anxious to break up the lovebirds, Hattfeld and McLoy cooperate for the first time in decades.  By the time they achieve their goal they find that conniving together has enabled them to end their feud and begin their friendship anew. But now that their grandchildren have called it quits, the curmudgeonly cupids must conspire again—this time to bring Aileen and Caleb back together.

Romance has never been this cranky.

I had fun with this variation on the old Southern Hatfield vs. McCoy family feud. This is one I might just turn into a short story.  Thanks, Kathy, for being so generous with your photo talent.


To be sure that others can read your blurb, please put your name and link in Mr. Linky, below, if you are participating in Book Blurb Friday. If you have no blurb to share, please do not install a link. It will be treated as spam and removed. Thanks.

Please scroll past the Linky widget to see our "book cover" for next week.






Here is our "book cover" for next week's Book Blurb Friday #44, provided by Kay Davies at An Unfittie's Guide to Adventurous Travel.

Thanks for participating in Book Blurb Friday. If you have any photos you think would be appropriate as a "book cover," please send them to me via email (writinginthebuff@hotmail.com).

Have a great Christmas weekend! See you next for Monday's microfiction.

Lisa

Christmas Secrets

Clip art courtesy of Webweaver.nu

 
The cute little gal who cuts my hair told me that she doesn’t like surprises or secrets. Not even Christmas secrets, the kind that your hubby and kids keep when they’ve got something stashed waiting to be wrapped. “No surprises,” she told me. “Don’t like ‘em.”

That sounded a bit Grinch-like to me, so I thought I’d take a poll. Do you like to be surprised when you unwrap a gift, or would you rather have some idea of what’s inside the box?

Me? I love Christmas secrets. I’d rather be surprised with a new pair of socks than know about the Godiva chocolates in my Santa stocking. I’m always so tickled that someone took the time to think about me and what I might like.  The gift given is the manifest of that thoughtfulness; but the thoughtfulness is the real gift, isn’t it?

Christmas secrets are delicious. They are as much fun for the giver as for the receiver. Oh, there are disappointments I suppose. Like the time I expected a new bike and got a teddy bear instead. But you know what? That bike, had I received it, would be long gone. The teddy bear, a Christmas gift when I was 9, is still with me. I’ll never get rid of the old boy.

The Christmas I received Teddy was also the year I learned that I have the power to ruin Christmas secrets.  I was 9-years-old. My big brother, Craig, had finished his shopping and I wouldn’t stop agitating him about what he bought me. “You’ll like it,” was all he would say. And then I’d start in again: What is it, what is it, what is it? Finally, he said, “I’m not going to tell you because it’s supposed to be kept secret so you’ll be surprised on Christmas. But it’s in the top drawer of my dresser, so if you want to look and ruin it for yourself, go ahead.”

How brilliant was that? He put the power in my hands and stopped my nagging questions. I lasted about an hour before I scrambled up the stairs to his room and pulled open the dresser drawer. It was a locket watch. I loved it. Adored it. Couldn’t wait for Christmas so I could wear it.  And when Christmas morning arrived and the box sat in my hands, the disappointment gnawed at me.

I’d ruined it. This beautiful, thoughtful gift, chosen with care by the brother I adore, had lost its secret power.  The awed delight was already out of the box, you see. I robbed myself of the Christmas surprise, and I stole from my brother the joy of watching my face when I saw for the first time the gift he had chosen.  

Christmas secrets are some of the most precious, the revelation of which is anticipated by both giver and receiver. I like my secrets kept under wraps until Christmas morning, but not everyone feels the same way. How about you?  Secret, or expected gift?

Merry Christmas! May all your Christmas secrets be sources of joy, and may the loving Spirit of Christmas be yours this season and always.

God bless –

Lisa

P.S.  See you next for Book Blurb Friday!

Not From a Store. . .So Much More!

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more. ~ Dr. Seuss

Christmas Eve at last! Even if you do not recognize Christmas as a religious holiday, I encourage you to join those of us who do for a celebration of joyful giving and appreciation for those we love and who love us in return. More than any other sentiment, it is abounding love that Christmas celebrates.

May we all share in that blessing!

Merry Christmas!

Lisa


Clip art courtesy of Webweaver.
The Grinch courtesy of Cinema.com.

Back Online Limerick and Wine. . .er, Whine

Clip art courtesy of Hasslefreeclipart.com

On Friday the unthinkable happened. My internet server, Bellsouth, experienced an extended outage and  internet access became impossible for---gulp!---four solid days. I could access neither my blog, email accounts nor Facebook. Due to appointments and such, a visit to the library or a friend's house to borrow a working computer was out of the question.

So how did this internet junkie deal with being severed from her technological window to the world? I whined a lot and. . .er. . .wined, because let's face it, no internet!  Hey, don't judge me. I didn't just sit around and swig from a wineglass, you know. I also ate chocolate and watched recorded episodes of the new Hawaii Five-O; and if you've ever seen Alex O'Loughlin shirtless you won't ask why Five-O is my new Must-Not-Miss. Actually, now that I think about it, losing the internet wasn't all bad. Just saying.

In honor of my return to the blogosphere I wrote the following poem, limerick style:

There once was a blogger who cried,

The week that her internet died.

She posted no stuff,

Neither serious nor fluff.

With technology she did collide.

When finally the techs got it right,

The internet beamed to her site.

She tried not to pine,

For all the missed time,

And the stuff that she nary did write.

(Oh, how I missed Microfiction Monday!)

So now she is back to her blog,

A veritable computer hog.

She’s still mad at Bellsouth,

‘Cause they shut her mouth,

With four days of internet fog.

The story is over, my friends.

But this lesson was learned at the end:

Your internet cherish,

Lest connection should perish,

And leave you with no blog to tend!

Thanks for sticking with me through the black hole of internet failure. I can't possibly catch up with all the posts by fellow bloggers, and I'm sorry for that because I know I've missed some terrific stuff; but I'm glad to be back on board!

How do you cope with internet outages? Do you grumble, suffer in silence, or haunt the local internet cafes?

Loving my internet connection --
Lisa

The Spirit of Christmas

Today's post is a bit of a cheat---a repeat from last Christmas. I hope you don't mind the duplication, but this sums up how I feel about the holiday. Do you agree with what I've written below, or disagree? I'd love to hear your comments about the Spirit of Christmas.

Clip art courtesy of Webweaver

Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" made its annual appearance the other night. Old bagger that I am, I nodded off through part of Christmas Past and Present.  Later, Tiny Tim uttered his famous line without me because I was staring into the kitchen pantry wishing a can of beets would morph into a bag of M&M’s.  The M&M’s never materialized, so I ended up back in front of the tube grumbling, “Humbug!”  I settled for an Oreo cookie, but my chocolate craving remained unfulfilled.

Scrooge was unhappy, too, sobbing over his own gravestone and begging the Spirit of Christmas Future for a chance to change the course of his life. He promised to hold the Spirit of Christmas in his heart every day and not just at the Christmas season.  

I have always focused on the story’s message that we have the power to impact our future by changing our behavior in the present.  For instance, how this cookie I'm munching tonight will evidence itself on my hips tomorrow.  Keeping the Spirit of Christmas inside us every day, with every breath—that concept I never fully pondered. 

So what is the Spirit of Christmas? I believe it is being kind to others, being grateful for what we have, loving each other and forgiving one another in spite of our differences and foibles.  The Spirit of Christmas is the contentment we find in the presence of our loved ones, and the happiness derived from joyful giving. 

Surprise! I thought of religion not even once. 

Christmas is more than just a Christian holiday. When I was a kid, most folks understood this concept. No one took offense at the trappings of Christmas because of the good things that ride on this holiday’s coattails. Not so much these days, with political correctness running amok. Too bad, because “good will toward men” is a positive thing, no matter what religion one practices. 

In spite of that, I still believe there is plenty of Christmas to go around. As a Christian, I celebrate Christ in the holiday, but if I awoke with amnesia and no recollection of being Christian, Jewish or Muslim I would yet delight in the sight of shy children talking to Santa. I would still be grateful for the love of my family. I would enjoy the lights on the neighborhood homes, and understand that dropping loose change into the Salvation Army bucket and donating canned goods to the local food bank should continue past December 31^st.

That each person’s heart might, every day, hold alive the Spirit of Christmas is as impossible as turning a can of beets into a bag of M&M’s; and yet, I wonder . . . perhaps the miracle lies not in wanting it to happen, but in believing with all of my heart that one day, it will. 

May the Spirit of Christmas drift upon you, gentle as a snowflake and bright as a star; may the gifts of love and hope be visited upon you in abundance; and may God bless us. . .every one.

Merry Christmas -
Lisa

Red Socks, Reindeer and Microfiction Monday

Clip art courtesy of Webweaver

Merry Christmas!  I'm in a jolly mood because I finished my Christmas shopping yesterday, which means I can sit back and enjoy the rest of December stress free. I'm usually that frantic woman you see rushing through the mall with a glazed look in her eyes and hair standing on end. Not this year, buttercup. Yay!

(An aside:  The festive reindeer above resembles a cartoon rendition of my yellow Lab were I to embarrass him by tying back his floppy ears and attaching antlers.)

Now to the main reason for my Monday post: the just-too-much-fun Microfiction Monday, hosted by Susan at Stony River.  It is ridiculous how much I look forward to this every week. Susan has single-handedly turned Monday into one of my favorite days of the week.  Thanks, Susan! And thanks to all the other participants who make this weekly meme such a joy.  Below are my two stories to accompany the picture, each 140 characters or less.

She has no fear of dreaming for a grander life than this; 

distant lands, romance, mystery & bliss. 

She’s not afraid. . .to dream, to dream.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So I’m brainless, am I?” She muttered. 

“Well, I’m smart enough to know these red socks 

will turn his undershorts pink.   

That’ll teach him!”

Someone asked me what I consider the most difficult part of Microfiction Monday.  Well, the writing is fun and no trouble at all. The tough part is getting to all the other blogs to read the stories and leave a comment. I never make it to every one, and I know I'm missing out.

An update for all you holiday shoppers:  not counting today, there are eleven shopping days left until the big guy blasts down your chimney! Good luck with your shopping. I wish you an abundance of parking spaces, amazing sales, and short lines at the check-out!

Merry Christmas!

Lisa

HAPPY 2010!!

Have you ever wondered why New Year’s Eve dances on the heels of Christmas?  I have a theory about that. 

See, the Christmas fuse is lit after the last “trick-or-treat” is hollered, and the sparks fly.  There is all the cooking and baking for Turkey Day, the cooking and baking for Christmas, the addressing of Christmas cards, decorating (inside and out), wrapping gifts, delivering gifts, and keeping the pets out of the Christmas ornaments.  By the end of December everyone is either comatose or desiring to be.

Then, hallelujah, New Year’s Eve beckons.  New Year’s Eve is the culmination of all that craziness.  It is the last hurrah before the New Year sets in and life returns to some version of normal.  Even people who crawl into bed before the Times Square Ball Drop (or the Underground Atlanta Peach Drop for us Georgians) recognize that the madness is—thank you, Lord—boxed up ‘til next year.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking I’m using New Year’s Eve as an excuse to drink too many margaritas, eat too many goodies and wear a silly hat. 

Okay, well, maybe you’re right about the hat. . .and I might concede the margaritas and goodies, too.  But that’s just the point! After all the stress and end-of-year build-up, the New Year’s Eve doctor arrives and his prescription is to “let off some holiday steam” and most people do. (As the NYE doc is a metaphor he can look however you want him to.  Mine looks like George Clooney and he has a brownie in one hand, a margarita on the rocks in the other, and he is wearing a big, sexy smile.)

Can you imagine the end of the Christmas rush without New Year’s Eve following after? Whatever would we do with all that pent up frustration and stress?  If there were no New Year’s Eve to set us up for January how would we muster the energy to de-ornament the tree, the house, the yard and put Frosty-the-giant-balloon-Snowman back in the attic?

New Year’s Eve is medically required therapy and good for our mental health.  The margaritas and brownies have nothing to do with it.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Have a safe and happy New Year’s Eve, and may all your doctors in 2010 look like George Clooney!

‘Til next time –

Lisa

Christmas Spirit

     Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” made its annual appearance the other night. Old bagger that I am, I nodded off through part of Christmas Past and Present.  Later, Tiny Tim uttered his famous line without me because I was staring into the kitchen pantry wishing a can of beets would morph into a bag of M&M’s.  The M&M’s never materialized, so I ended up back in front of the tube grumbling, “Humbug!”  I settled for an Oreo cookie, but my chocolate craving remained unfulfilled.

     Scrooge was unhappy, too, sobbing over his own gravestone and begging the Spirit of Christmas Future for a chance to change the course of his life. He promised to hold the Spirit of Christmas in his heart every day and not just at the Christmas season. 

     I have always focused on the story’s message that we have the power to impact our future by changing our behavior in the present. (For instance, how this Oreo cookie I'm munching tonight will evidence itself on my hips tomorrow.)  Keeping the Spirit of Christmas inside us every day, with every breath—that concept I never fully pondered. 

     First, we would all have to agree on what the Spirit of Christmas is. I believe it is being kind to others, being grateful for what we have, loving each other and forgiving one another in spite of our differences and foibles.  The Spirit of Christmas is the contentment we find in the presence of our loved ones, and the happiness derived from joyful giving. 

     Surprise! I thought of religion not even once.

     Christmas is more than just a Christian holiday. When I was a kid, most folks understood this concept. No one took offense at the trappings of Christmas because of the good things that ride on this holiday’s coattails. Not so much these days, with political correctness running amok. Too bad, because “good will toward men” is a positive thing, no matter what religion one practices.

     In spite of that, I still believe there is plenty of Christmas to go around. As a Christian, I celebrate Christ in the holiday, but if I awoke with amnesia and no recollection of being Christian, Jewish or Muslim I would yet delight in the sight of shy children talking to Santa.  I would still be grateful for the love of my family.  I would enjoy the lights on the neighborhood homes, and understand that dropping loose change into the Salvation Army bucket and donating canned goods to the local food bank should continue past December 31^st.  

     That each person’s heart might, every day, hold alive the Spirit of Christmas is as impossible as turning a can of beets into a bag of M&M’s; and yet, I wonder . . . perhaps the miracle lies not in wanting it to happen, but in believing with all of my heart that one day, it will. 

     May the Spirit of Christmas drift upon you, gentle as a snowflake and bright as a star; may the gifts of love and hope be visited upon you in abundance; and may God bless us. . .every one.

Merry Christmas -

Lisa

Rockin' with the Rockettes

Our family jumped into the Christmas season with the Radio City Christmas Spectacular show at the beautiful Fox Theater in Atlanta.  We enjoyed two hours of holiday music, bright costumes, and precision dancing. 

If you want talented women with Gumby-like flexibility, the Rockettes are hard to beat.

The Rockettes have been an American institution for 77 years.  During that time more than 3,000 women have danced as Rockettes.  To be considered, a woman must have a bright, sunny personality that beams from the stage.  She must excel at modern dance, jazz, tap and ballet.  She must be between 5-feet 6-inches and 5-feet 10.5-inches in height. She must be able to cook an eight course meal in stilettos and a Santa hat.

Okay, I’m kidding about the eight course meal. 

Anyway, the height variance is interesting, because on stage they appear to all be identical, leggy, 10-foot-tall beauties.  This illusion is achieved by placing the tallest dancers in the center and decreasing height out to the ends. Pretty slick, huh?

I watch talented dancers with awe because dancing is a skill at which I do not excel.  My dance floor moves are best likened to the wagging tail of a Labrador Retriever—going every direction at once with no discernible rhythm.

In the late ‘70s when every female in America wanted to be Olivia Newton-John in Grease, I planted my butt on the disco dance floor just like my contemporaries.  My hair curlicued a la the Streisand Sizzle (remember Barbra’s do in A Star Is Born?) and I had a stretchy, black pant-and-jacket get-up that would still turn heads today (“Holy cow, Bubba, look what happened to your old Corvair seat covers!”).  I was a sight to behold.  Really.

For the good of mankind I deep-sixed the disco outfit and swore off dancing.  I still twirl around the kitchen with my dogs every now and then, but they’re Labs and they think I rock.  My moves, their wagging tails. . .we’re perfect dance partners.

For the real deal, however, I suggest you stick with the Rockettes.  Synchronized to perfection and jingle-bell rocking the night away, they are the perfect kick-off to Christmas. 

Only 15 days 'til Santa!

Lisa

Maintain the Muffin-Top!

Today was supposed to be the first day of my diet.  I planned to hit the Weight Watchers points system—the only weight loss program with which I have ever found success—intent on dropping the ten big ones I’ve gained since PaPa moved in and took over the kitchen.  PaPa is a wonderful chef who believes taste trumps calories and to whom low-fat means frying in olive oil instead of butter.  My muffin-top is a testament to his spatula wielding ways.

Anyway, I gave up the diet plans in favor of a happy holiday.  Initiating a diet between Thanksgiving and Christmas would be nothing short of torture, and I am not a masochistic madam…so to speak.  All those goodies!  Far better to nibble in moderation than to not nibble at all because, let’s face it, we all know I’m not going to pass up praline pecans or Auntie Honey’s annual fudge.  Or Carrie’s turtles.  Or Linda’s nut rolls.

Or, heaven forbid, dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms in those bright holiday colors!

Instead of actually dieting, the big challenge will be to somehow not gain an additional five pounds between now and January 1^st.  I think that is an admirable goal, all things considered. 

Since the thought of counting points through the holidays was stressing me, I think I should be congratulated for inventing a means of relieving holiday food guilt.  I abolished dieting but retained an admirable goal: Maintain the Muffin-Top. 

Hmmm…somehow that sounded better before it was actually put in writing.

What I mean is, as long as I don’t gain any more fluff, I’ll consider the Christmas season to be a rollicking success.

Soon enough the New Year will loom large and I’ll be measuring my Raisin Bran portions and noshing raw carrots.  And that will totally work for January. 

But this is December, my friends—the season of cookies and candy and mulled wine; of holiday parties and New Year’s feasts. So I say eat, drink, be merry, and Maintain the Muffin-Top!

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and good eats –

Lisa