Merry Christmas, Mama

If I should ever leave you whom I love
To go along the Silent Way, grieve not,
Nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk
Of me as if I were beside you there...

And when you hear a song or see a bird
I loved, please do not let the thought of me
Be sad...For I am loving you just as
I always have...You were good to me!

There are so many things I wanted still
To do---so many things to say to you...
Remember that I did not fear---it was
Just leaving you that was so hard to face...

We cannot see beyond...But this I know:
I loved you so---'twas heaven here with you!

-Isla Paschal Richardson

Mattie is coming to visit today!

So I had to quickly clean up. I can't believe I got everything in there; all those years of playing Tetris finally paid off. The Spoffice closet doors will likely remain closed long after his departure.


Also, on a totally unrelated note, I made something in my Dutch ovens (I used both!) and wanted to share. Corie (the babysitter), I made your recipe the very next night!

Except I used too much wine so we ended up making a creamy white wine sauce to serve with it. (Read: Dan ended up making a white wine sauce while I flipped out about fucking the whole thing up.)

Looks good though, right?




And of course Dan had to have his fun along the way.

Tonight's dinner

Fuh real.

Dan made up this little plate for me to enjoy while wrapping (which apparently became blogging). I bet you're wondering, "Hey, Lola, what's in the bowl?" And I shall tell you---it's cookie cereal. Or cookie soup. Whichever name you prefer. We took a bag of all our treats from the cookie swap last week to the Cape to enjoy in our room (because what's a romantic getaway without cookies to gorge on?) and they got crushed amidst our purchases on the ride home. "Don't throw them away," I said calmly (or maybe screamed), "We can add milk and eat it with a spoon. It will be fun!" And fun it was. And tasty. And I feel pretty brilliant. Win, win, win.

In other news:

I'm posting the following picture because the whole scenario made me laugh. The other day after enjoying a breakfast of steak fajitas (yup) (and, no, I'm not pregnant---I just eat like this), Dan alerted me to the fact that I had food in my teeth. (We all know I'm a sexpot.) I handled it as best I could without having to go to all the trouble of flossing and used my tongue to work it out. Then I got in the shower. When I stepped out (and wrapped myself in a towel, so we're clear) this is what was on the bathroom mirror.

He does this kind of shit every day:

I fell to the floor laughing. I so look forward to Dan making me laugh like this when we're cute old people.

Until then---we're still at war.

The Battle of the Christmas Cards score is as follows:

Dan: 10

Lola: 31

I almost feel bad now. Except I love it. Except I feel bad. Except I don't.

We've decided the contest will go until January 1st to give people plenty of time to get their cards out (and send me oodles). I'll give you the highlights then (or sooner if I feel like it) but I'm psyched to report that some people---Spew Crewer Sassy and good friend and "Punkin Chunkin" champion Buffster McDavey--- have sent multiple (four apiece!) cards. Sassy sent a leftover card from 2007 featuring a picture of only two of her daughters because the third hadn't been born yet! And two of Buffster's cards were ones that she received and then slapped my name on so I now have season's greetings from "The Flemings" and "Ken" (which also made me hit the floor laughing).

This has brought much joy to the season. Despite getting trounched (and let's hope for no Hail Marys), even Dan is enjoying it.

Which makes me feel bad.

Except it doesn't.

I'm sure it's just another thing we'll laugh about when we're cute old people.

Round Yon Virgin Mother and Child

They really do remind me of mother and daughter.


I'm in red heaven.

Can you stand it?

This time it was my Aunt Gail who made a Christmas dream come true.  I am awash with gratitude.

She gave me the Dutch oven from her own kitchen...which was given to her by a woman who made luscious tomato sauces in it for 30 years before gifting it to Gail.  It is browned and marked by meals past and this gives me such joy.

I love that one of these ovens comes with its own story and personality and the other is for me to create.  And there will be feasts.  Oh there will be feasts.  I feel a strong need to use these vessels to pass on the generosity and love and sacred human connection with which they were sent to me.

So stay tuned for pictures.

And, my dear, dear G.Bird, my heart is swollen with you.

I just can't take it.

Right this minute---All is calm, all is bright.

I don't mean to rub it in but we even got snow...

...and room service because it was just too cozy to go traipsing about in the cold.  I'm just not sure it gets much better than this.

Here's a fun e-mail to get on a Friday afternoon

From: Danny Boy
To: Lola
Subject: Crazy Idea

When I get home, let’s take off for the Cape. We will stay tonight and Saturday---Christmas shop, get cozy, do Christmas Cards and relax. No plan – let’s just go. What do you think?


What do I think?

What do I think?

Well, I'll be honest. Because I sometimes tend to have an Aspergian reaction to change, I was taken aback for a minute. I had already planned some of our weekend---the Farmers' Market, pork chops, a movie.  But I "recalculated," set my brain to its spontaneity setting and off we went, arriving in Chatham last night at 10pm.

It's gorgeous here---beaches everywhere, pink roses still in bloom, white lights adorning some of the most beautiful homes I've ever seen. Our room overlooks a big sandy beach, ocean and then long sandbars further out. It's a great big room so we're not on top of each other and there's a fireplace which of course ups the coziness factor. When we got in last night we poured a couple of glasses of wine (oh, you know it) and I read my book under a blanket by the fire while Dan worked on Christmas cards.  Because life is sometimes perfect, I even saw a shooting star when I went to take in the night sky from the deck.  This morning I got up extra early and went and had my coffee at the main inn, alone in this stately room decked out with Christmas trees, red and white Poinsettias and a whole gingerbread village. My favorite part was the deck railings made out of white chocolate covered pretzels.

Now we're readying to head out for a little shopping in downtown Chatham, an adorable little town. I've been to Chatham one time before and fell in love with the place. I have little desire for a life more complicated than that which Dan and I are currently living but if a windfall were to hit, this is where I'd land---in a sweet little cottage with a boat.

My mom always said that if she was going to live anywhere besides Rhode Island that it would be on the Cape and I feel her all over this place; it was where she came for her last weekend getaway just two months before she died.  I'm glad she got to experience this one last time. I keep looking around and feel so fortunate to be around such beauty. My mom would love the whole idea of this Dan and Lola Christmas weekend and I keep hearing her telling me to relax and enjoy it.

And so we will.

And so will you.

Monologues With a Drunk: A Dialog

Photo courtesy of Danny Boy. (Impressive, right?)

A winter’s evening in New Hampshire. A redhead who doesn’t look a day over 20 sits in her apartment pondering her therapist’s suggestion that she give up drinking for a couple of weeks.

Me: I think I’m going to have a glass of wine. I really need a glass of wine.

Asshole Inner Voice: But you should at least think about not having it. She only suggested you give up drinking for two weeks ‘just to try it.’

Me: Yeah, but it’s December 14th. Nobody gives up drinking on December 14th.

Asshole Inner Voice: You can’t even go the night?

Me: I didn’t drink last night!


AIV: Yeah, but that’s because you were still drunk from the night before. It doesn’t count.

Me: (Huffs) If I wanted to skip a night of drinking I totally could.

AIV: Then why don’t you?

Me: Because it’s December 14th! WHO GIVES UP DRINKING IN THE MIDDLE OF DECEMBER? WHO, I ASK?

AIV: Getting awfully defensive aren’t you?

Me: Well you’re being a total fuck!

AIV: I’m just saying, I don’t think people without drinking problems have conversations like this with themselves.

Me: That’s ‘cause they do meth and their inner conversations are about that!

AIV: It’s just one night.

Me: But I’m feeling edgy. How about just a small glass?

AIV: Ah, the bargaining stage of alcoholism.

Me: You really are a fuck.

AIV: Why don’t you just take a bath?

Me: Who takes a bath without a glass of wine?

AIV: Why don’t you just go to bed early and read your book?

Me: Who reads in bed without a glass of wine?

AIV: Are you hearing yourself?

Me: Are you hearing yourself?

AIV: I’m you.

Me: Yeah, the lame part. DORK!

AIV: Don’t you understand that when you insult me you’re insulting yourself.

Me: (In whiny mocking voice) Don’t you understand that when you insult me you’re insulting yourself.

AIV: Real Mature.

Me: Real Mature.

AIV: Ugh, you are such a child.

Me: (Opens and closes hand while mouthing blah, blah, blah.)

AIV: I don’t need this. Have your wine. Kill your brain cells.

Me: I knew I’d break you.

AIV: You realize this is a problem, right?

Me: (Pouring wine) Add it to the pile, biotch!

AIV: I can’t believe you couldn’t go one night.

Me: I can’t believe you’re still talking. (Takes first sip, swallows, closes eyes and smiles.)

AIV: Well, what are you going to do with yourself now?

Me: I’m going to write!

AIV: You should have said that in the first place! Who writes at night without a glass of wine?

Me: (Glug, glug, glug.)

Asshole Inner Voice and Me in unison: It’s our artistic temperament!