Music Monday: Solstice Music 2025

Yesterday was the Winter Solstice, and since my 2023-2025 have been consumed with things I can't do because...I decided to start 2026 as I mean to go on (since, in some traditions, the solstice is the new year celebration). I cranked up my playlist called "Music Therapy" and deep cleaned the kitchen. In the end, that cleaning meant scrubbing the counter tops, cleaning the stove on top and oven door, tidying the windowsill in the kitchen, and vacuuming up the bits that were flung to the floor in the process. By last night I was bone tired and moving slowly--but it was due to the cleaning and not sitting in the recliner all day watching telly and doom scrolling. SCORE! Anyway, today's song is on all my playlists because I love love love Punjabi music/dance and I love Ed Sheeran. Enjoy--this one works well with any sort of cleaning or just moving. Bonus points for the Punjabi lyrics being included here.

Merry Happy Holidays Christmas Hanukkah Kwanzaa, y'all! 

Your Regularly Scheduled Hiatus Post

 

Image from Pixabay

Well, I can't think of a better visual representation of me around the holidays, hair on fire and looking like I'm about to fall asleep from fatigue. As a result, the Lettuce will be on hiatus until the new year. This past month's Nano has been a bear from start to finish, and I have a Guardians of Orana novel to put through another round of edits before its release at the end of January.

January, as in two short months from now. Thankfully, the DayJob is in academia so I have a break coming up and when I tell you I will be spending every free moment at the laptop...well, believe me.

Thanks for another year of mostly sharing my weird and wonderful musical taste and for all your support for my writing. It means more than I can tell you, and I'm 100% sincere when I say it takes a village to build a writer. Happy Holidays, and I will see you again in 2022.

Post Christmas Blahs

The view from here...

I saw a really appropriate meme on Facebook the other day. It had a stick figure on the left that was smiling and sporting a jaunty Santa cap, and the caption above its head said "1st - 26th December: Festive!" On the right was another stick figure, no Santa cap (jaunty or otherwise), who was holding a block of cheese and looking a bit puzzled. Its caption reads, "27th - 31st December: Confused, full of cheese, unsure of the day of the week."

Friends, I am full of Russian Tea and Honeycrisp Apple Cider instead of cheese, but that second stick figure and I are soulmates. I realized today when I left to take something to hubs at work that he had forgotten that I HAVE NOT LEFT THE HOUSE SINCE TUESDAY. And that would have been even more shocking if I was 100% certain what day today is. I think it's Saturday, judging by the programs on NPR this morning and the fact that THERE IS FOOTBALL ON TELLY TONIGHT THANK GOODNESS. I have grown so accustomed to college football on Saturdays that I don't know what to do with myself when there isn't any to be had.

But back to Christmas. This year it felt like we had summer, and then just the start of fall, and then BAM! Thanksgiving followed by a bit of winter and then it was Christmas Eve. Maybe it's because I'm an old lady now that time seems to speed up like that if I'm not keeping an eye on things, but I was not ready for Christmas at all. 

To those of you nodding your heads knowingly and tutting and clucking, yes, a large part of it is that it is my first Christmas without either of my parents still here. They loved Christmas so much - or at least Daddy did. The amount and creativity of that man's decorating skills were LEG-EN-wait for it- DARY. I don't think there was an inch of any house we lived in growing up or their retirement home in Cleveland that wasn't covered in garland and red bows. This year I managed a tree, and on Christmas Eve-Eve I got two new stockings for me and Simon (since the dogs shredded mine last year and I couldn't find his). The front door and the kitchen door have wreaths. But that's all, really, save the sewing Santa statue I put out every year and our Jesus-Less Nativity scene (we think one of the dogs made off with Our Lord and Savior two years ago).

I find myself longing for Christmas to last, for the temps to go somewhere below the 68F/20C that we are experiencing today. It isn't just that I have some time off work (though that is nice). I have had anxiety surrounding change my entire life. Mom said that when I was a girl I would cry when the credits rolled at the end of a tv program. Even now I can feel my gut clench just a bit when I think about the fact that the end of an entire year - an entire decade is coming up next week. But that isn't what is causing my need for things to slow down, already.

I think I was waiting for it to feel like Christmas. I've had my grief, the mourning has been done, now it should feel back to normal again, right? Wrong. The harder I push myself to make things feel normal again, the worse it is when they aren't. So to any of you that are struggling this season with a holiday that didn't feel quite right - a holiday that seems to have come on fast and left nothing in its wake but weirdness - I see you. You are heard and understood - and loved. I'm saving space for you here, with me in this dirty house on my worn leather sofa, looking at the fake fire in the television and listening to the same instrumental music on repeat since Tuesday night. We will get through this and next year will be a better - if not normal, not yet - winter holiday season.

Light reading till I'm done catching up: FLASHBACK POST!

An American Greyhound in Yorkshire, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

Since we're coming up on the first of September, let's see where I was this time last year... "Things I Learned This Holiday" from 1 September 2011

And once again, my universe rights itself...

Smooth Sailing, a photo by Nancy Dunne on Flickr.

I worked a LOT in November. A LOT. Many, many hours. As a result...

I'M GOING TO KEIGHLEY FOR CHRISTMAS!!

I'm sort of chuffed, in case you couldn't tell? All of my angst and depression goes away when I think that I'll be with my Mister (and my MeiMei) in just about 22 days. Ho Ho Ho Happy Christmas to me!

Mind you, the flight could have been cheaper, but it wasn't to be...nor did it matter. See above working a LOT in November. See me grinning like an idiot.

Yeah, so, that's good news. Yeah. Apologies for the Nancy you've come to hate over the past few months. She's MUCH better now.

Shrove Tuesday Meal Attempt

I know that I'm not the best cook in the world. Well aware of that fact, acutally...just consider my other culinary disasters, including but not limited to the time I put french onion soup powder into spaghetti with meat sauce or my famous Nancy's Noodle Nightmares where I can't STOP adding ingredients to the skillet...but this time I think it might NOT have been my fault.

Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday/Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras/The Day Before Ash Wednesday and it is traditional in some parts of the world to eat pancakes on this day.

Shrove Tuesday is the term used in the United Kingdom,^[1] Australia,^[2] and Canada to refer to the day after Shrove Monday (or the more old fashioned Collop Monday) and before Ash Wednesday (the liturgical season of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday). In Ireland, the UK, and amongst Anglicans, Lutherans and possibly other Protestant denominations in Canada including Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick, this day is also known as Pancake Day or Pancake Tuesday, because it is customary to eat pancakes on this day.^[3][4][5] In other parts of the world—for example, in historically Catholic and French-speaking parts of the United States and elsewhere—this day is called Mardi Gras. In areas with large Polish-immigrant populations (for example, Chicago) it is known as Tłusty Czwartek and celebrated on the Tuesday before Lent. And in areas with large German-immigrant populations (for example, Pennsylvania Dutch Country) it is known as Fasnacht Day (also spelled Fausnacht Day and Fauschnaut Day). [from Wikipedia]

After hearing Simon and Liz talk about their pancakes, I became inspired to try to make some myself. After all, the recipe that Liz gave me in IM didn't seem that difficult and I had all the ingredients...sorta.

2 cups flour
2 cups milk
pinch of salt
2 tbsp butter

I assembled the ingredients:


Mixed up a fairly runny batter:


And poured it in the pan, tilting it to spread the batter, and waiting for the bubbles before I flipped it.


Problem is, my skillet isn't even close to flat and they were burning (we're talking smoke!) in the middle. So I ended up with gloppy and gross pancakes.



I'm so sad that I used the last of my strawberry jam on the one on the right. Neither was edible. So for the last one I stopped trying to pretend I was English and ate it the old fashioned American way...slathered with "Tastes Like Butter!" and drowned in "Light Lowfat Maple Syrup."


Note to Self: Ask Santa for proper electric skillet for Christmas this year.

Red Stockings and Scripture Readings

Here's my holiday advice, free of charge. If you buy a smashing new jumper (the American meaning, a short dress...not the English meaning/a sweater) that's all pretty and Christmasy plaid and looks outstanding with your new favorite red Old Navy turtleneck, and you're slated to read a lesson during the "Lessons and Carols" Christmas Eve service at your Dad's church, don't wear red tights. Seriously. I caught sight of myself in the window at the chinese restaurant where we ate after church (the only place in town open) and let's just say Santa's Elves have got NOTHING on me.

Further, should you try on said jumper and think "Oh, it's a bit tight here and there but that will just hold all of me in nicely and the plaid will hide my Michelin Man physique..." You are wrong, my friend, wrong wrong wrong.

Imagine my joy when, in my short plaid too tight jumper and BLINDING red turtleneck and tights (just say a small prayer of thanks that I took off the red shoes in favor of black ones, since the red shoes have a tendency to slip off at the wrong moment...oh, and they're RED), the decision was made that those doing readings would sit in the choir loft...facing the congregation.

Well. At least I didn't mispronounce anything in my reading and didn't fall off the stage or onto the poor, now blinded people I was sitting next to on the pew. Happy Christmas, y'all. I think I need another cuppa tea.

How NOT to take a Christmas Photo

You're gonna jump in here with us, right Mommy? (Jeany and Daisy hang their heads in shame....)



Happy Headless Holidays!



Wrestlin' around the Christmas Tree...



(that one was so not funny at the time, I was trying to swing Daisy's butt around and at the same time she dug her nails in Hunky ran away...but looking at it now Jeany's face is like "Oh, Mommy that is SO not going to work!!" :lol)

Okay, this is...wait, are we in frame?...CRAP!


You guys got a BETTER way to do this?


Yeah...photoshop the dogs in later. Merry Christmas, y'all!

A Holiday Meme...a HoMe? MeHo?

(because Liz told me to...)

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Gift bags. My parents used to have to help me cover my books with grocery bags in high school so if you think I'm able to wrap a gift alone you're insane. Oh yeah, and they're green too...

2. Real tree or Artificial? Artificial. The dogs are less likely to wee on it.

3. When do you put up the tree? The weekend after my birthday...and Mary Catherine's birthday.

4. When do you take the tree down? Generally just after New Year's but this year it will be up until 8th January or longer because I'll be in the UK till the 7th.

5. Do you like egg nog? No. You shouldn't drink eggs and what on earth is nog? Relegated to the fruitcake category.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Probably Lady, a brittany spaniel that I got instead of the parrot I'd asked Santa to bring. Interestingly enough, Santa replied to my note in my Daddy's handwriting explaining why I didn't need a parrot. He is magical, I tell ya...

7. Do you have a nativity scene? My parents have one. It's a tradition for my sister (the minister, mind you) to put Baby Jesus on top of the stable. She's not right, that one...

8. Hardest person to buy for? Dave and Sooz.

9. Easiest person to buy for? The dogs, because they would love an old shoe!

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Thank you for reminding me! They will make it by Easter at least...

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? That's a hard one to answer...

12. Favorite Christmas movie? National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. "Pass me some of them potatoes, Clark, they are gooooooooo-ooooood!"

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? After my second paycheck in December.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yes indeedy.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Those little white mints with the green and red sprinkles on them that my mother always has in abundance all over the kitchen...

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Colored but it was an accident.

17. Favorite Christmas song? Wizards of Winter by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra at the moment. But I think for traditional ones O Come, O Come Emmanuel is a favorite.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Well, they aren't going to come to me, so...

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Star, compliments of Mom, Daddy, and Target.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas morning, of course...Santa hasn't brought anything Christmas Eve, silly.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Not being able to spend Christmas with my furry family. I miss them so much when I travel. But when everyone I'm visiting is either allergic or doesn't allow animals in the house (or both), I'm stuck.

23. Favorite dessert after Christmas dinner? Coconut cake. No kidding.

24. What do you want for Christmas this year? To see everyone that I love.

25. Old fashioned lights or icicle lights on your house? I would have just white lights around the columns and in the bushes (with some garland around the columns) but I ran out of Decorate The House Money.

Stalling

T shirts!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Allen

So today I need to clean my house, get out my Christmas decorations, and get the guest accommodations ready because I have guests coming in a FEW HOURS. I haven't done a thing yet, save put T-shirts on the dogs and be amazed that Hunky can now wear one of the Old Navy shirts in the same size as the girls! It's really amusing, Jeany's is too big and Hunky's is just...well, he kinda looks like the guy that struts around on the beach that wears the muscle shirt that came from the boys' section...and Daisy's is just right.

So I'm still not cleaning. I'm still not getting out my tree or my wreath. I'm still not vacuuming or mopping or cleaning the toilet. All I can seem to do is run back to the computer to upload "just one more picture" or turn on the dishwasher.

Ugh! Enough stalling! Time to make the donuts...well, actually that's the one thing I DON'T have to do! If you're looking to stall today, check out my slideshow of my pictures from Thanksgiving at my parents' house yesterday. Cleveland Georgia is part of America's most beautiful country, the Appalachian Mountains, and I never tire of taking pictures of those mountains. It's like they are big arms that surround me and keep me safe and let me know I am home. Enjoy.

Thanks, Easter Bunny...BOK BOK

So this morning when I came stumbling out of the guest room to feed the dogs there was the cutest little basket waiting in the hall! In the tradition of our mother, my sister...I mean the Easter Bunny had left me an easter basket with lots of yummy diet busting treats inside. Yay for Easter!

But wait...there was a toy in the basket, something that the "Easter Bunny" also used to always include when we were growing up. This toy, however, is a classic combination of humor, yummy bubble gum, and one of the symbols of the season, an egg laid by a chicken.

May I introduce...the Clucker.



Little dude...err...dude-ette...errr....okay the chicken works like this. Twist its head off, insert no more than four of the bubble gum "eggs" (because to do so, according to the warning, would jam the mechanism...so true, isn't it?), then wind up Clucker and let it go. It walks, it...makes a grindy noise, and it poops out a bubble gum egg.

Yay Easter. This may be the best easter basket toy I've ever gotten.

Yesterday, today, and two weeks from now...

Four years ago yesterday I lost a very good friend, a greyhound called Bo. Hope you're still flying free, my brave boy. I still miss you and still hate Valentine's Day because it reminds me that I was cheated out of a life with you.

Yesterday, as if on cue because it's Valentine's Day...I got my divorce papers. Couldn't have been more perfect if I'd tried.

Two weeks from yesterday I will go on vacation and get to finally meet someone that has become very important to me.

Life is good.

Why don't animals have snooze settings?

Most of my mornings start out relatively the same. About half an hour before my alarm goes off, a greyhound starts whining. It's not an urgent whine, it's an under-the-breath, only-audible-to-bats-like-me whine that I am unable to sleep through. I generally say something ugly to whomever is crying in that manner that includes "get back on your bed," then roll back over and try to thread my pillow through my head via my ears to block out the sound.

This morning was no different. Even though today is possibly one of the most embarrassing state holidays that we have here in South Carolina (as well as other southern states), Confederate Memorial Day (affectionately called Bubba Hoo-hah day) and I have the day off, the whining still started around 6am. I managed to verbally beat them into submission with various threats such as "don't make me have to pull your tail out" and "I'll make your bottom lip fit over your ears, just try me" until about 7am. At 7:15 I gave up the ghost and got up.

Did I mention that I was up until about 2am watching the Battlestar Galactica dvds that a dear friend lent me, and then fell asleep on the sofa until 4am? Did I mention that today is a day off for me, that I celebrate annually by driving to Athens and having lunch with Kevin, a long time friend and former co-worker? Did I mention that I just wanted to sleep till 8am?

To add insult to injury, guess what my five furry bundles of joy did after I hauled my sleepy butt out of bed and fed them? They went to sleep.

Five Stairsteps to a Healing Heart

Ooh child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh child, things'll get brighter

On February 13th, 2003, sometime in the afternoon, I was driving back from Clinton, SC in my old Honda, with BoBo stretched out across the backseat on some blankets. He never liked my choice of music, but when I got to our song and stopped singing (I think THAT is truly the issue he had with my music...my warbling along) he settled back and stopped whining. For the 3+ minutes that song lasted, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw that strong jaw, those bright eyes, and that beautiful light yellow brindled fur. "Oooh Child" by the Five Stairsteps was on the CD player, and it quickly became our song, Bo's and mine, and I'd been singing it to him at night while sitting with him downstairs.

Some day, yeah
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter

Scott had to help me get him out of the car, of course, because he was so weak that it was tough to manage the backseat of a Civic. We also had to watch and make sure that we didn't damage the IV line that was now a permanent part of one of his front legs. Once in the basement, I found my standard spot on the floor next to his dogbed and reminded him that once he was better he could sleep anywhere he wanted, even on that stupid fluffy rug in the bathroom.

Some day, yeah
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

As I'd done for the past two weeks, I fell asleep that night on the concrete floor in the basement with my head and arm on his dogbed. I didn't sleep long though...BoBo couldn't always tell us fast enough when he had to go out, so I think for those two weeks I drifted in a state of near conciousness so that I wouldn't miss him calling if he needed me. If I'd known I would have stayed up all night talking to him, memorizing every last brindle stripe in his fur and making sure I told him just how much his Mommy loved him. But I didn't know.

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

On Valentine's Day, February 14th, 2003, Scott took Bo to the vet for his daily fluids. We had plans to possibly go out that night but we would probably have stayed in and had dinner on the floor in the basement. Scott called me at about 4:30 pm. Bo left us shortly thereafter. The first person I called was Amy, poor thing...she and Charles were out celebrating Valentine's Day and all I could say on the phone was "We lost Bo." They offered to come sit with me until Scott got home from Clinton, but I thanked them and told them no.

Three years later I still miss Bo. Three years later I still hate Valentine's Day. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it did last year, and certainly not as much as it did the year before that. I still don't deal well with all the commercials on television showing happy couples exchanging jewelry and smiling children holding up hand-made cards to proud parents. The overload of candy and roses in the stores just seems hollow to me. Bo was the first greyhound we lost, and while his death did prepare me for Liz to leave us, it was a painful lesson. The fact that it happened on the day that it did I think just makes it more vivid and harder to forget.

Right now
You just wait and see how things are gonna be
Right now

My heart is healing. I got a card today from my parents, a Valentine's Card, and for the first time in three years I didn't completely lose my composure reading it. I'd like to think that Bo was watching as I walked back into the house with the card in my hand, finally satisfied that his Mommy is okay.

I love you Bo, and I won't ever forget. I'm just learning how not to hurt so much I guess...

Maybe next year I'll buy myself a rose and a candy bar.