Christmas Day 2010

The Christmas festivities this year began with announcements that both children had gotten full-time jobs with benefits! Here are Catherine and Billy toasting the occasion with Prosecco. Catherine is now an interior designer and Billy works in Special Collections at the Mullins Library. As the Brits say, "Well done, you!"

Speaking of the Brits, Sarah, Billy's girlfriend, returned from a vacation to Scotland and England two days before Christmas. We had our fingers crossed for her return because all domestic flights in the U.K. had been canceled, prompting Sarah and Katie to train down from Edinburgh to London several days before their departure flight home. When they finally reached Heathrow--5 hours prior to their departure, as instructed!--they were housed in refugee tents outside the terminal until they were called by airport officials to proceed through security. There were so many stranded tourists that tents had to be erected to comply with fire codes inside the terminal proper.

Here is Sarah opening a little present from us. She attended the Children's Mass with us on Christmas Eve, then drove home to Green Forest, her home town, to be with her family on Christmas morining.

Here are the presents she brought back from Scotland for Bill and me. I think I need to make a flaming plum pudding to go with the brandy butter. Yummm.

This is our family room on Christmas morning. Obviously, Santa had filled the stockings!

Bill and I arose at a reasonable hour. Catherine was next to get up. By 10am Billy still had not stirred, so Bill awoke him with some jingle bells.

Here is Catherine hugging her dog, Daisy. Daisy is 17-1/2 years old and is very unsteady on her feet. See all of those throw rugs? We call those her islands. The carpet helps to steady her gait so her legs don't splay out beneath her. Also, they are washable. To put it delicately, Daisy is rather like a baby these days.

Santa provided little rub-off lottery tickets in the stockings. No, Billy will not be able to pay for graduate school with his $1.00 winnings!



Catherine topped him by winning $5.00!!!!

Santa even left some goodies in my stocking!

Once we had opened our stockings in the family room, we moved on to the living room to find presents under the tree. The children replaced Bill's drill that had gone missing.

Catherine's loving parents gave her a Swiffer set. She had been borrowing ours for her place...I think this is how things "go missing." Catherine has always been very tidy, even as a toddler, so she was quite pleased with her new gift. Incidentally, when Bill got his new cell numbers some years back--his number is 409-xxxx--I thought of Catherine. The exchange is the cleaning product, the 4th and 5th numbers were her year of birth and the last two numbers were the age she was when Bill got that number!

There's Billy opening up one of the gifts Catherine gave him. Now that he has a full-time job, he has decided to dress more professionally!

Here are Catherine, Bill, and Billy--all looking very happy.

Christmas at our house wouldn't be Christmas without this French toast. I like it because I can assemble it on Christmas Eve, precook the bacon, and then about 25 minutes before I expect to finish unwrapping the presents I pop it into the oven.

I set the family room table with placemats my mother made years ago. She even made an apron to match which I have worn on occasion...but not yesterday. How do you like the little Bah Humbug Cute, huh?

So that's the first part of the day. After presents we took little naps, then we went to the Pangs' house for dinner.

Below are Andy Pang and Catherine. They are the same age and last night reminisced about how "naughty" they were at St. Joseph's Elementary School! Still, the teachers loved their spunk!

Below are Sarah and Billy.

Catherine and I. I'm wearing the new pashmina Bill gave me for Christmas.

Catherine, Sarah, and Billy--three lovely young adults.

It was a lovely family Christmas.

Real American Democracy

P. S. or maybe A. S. ante-script...The above picture was taken by Chuck with his iPhone. It's really hard to believe that Catherine and I are wearing the same skinny jeans. The down coat and Roma headband kind of negate any benefits of skinny jeans!

By nature, I am not a political person. Nevertheless, two things this year conspired to make me just a little more political.

First of all, I awoke to find that my dear friend Kikka had sent me a fb message from Roma asking me if Obama should resign if he loses. I replied to her with a brief American civics lesson on the Founding Fathers' concept of checks and balances, as well as on the differences between our form of government and a Parliamentary one. Needless to say, that kind of put me in a mood to vote, so I did, although without much enthusiasm given the choice of candidates we had.

The other reason that this was an unually political election for me was that one of our good friends, Rhonda Adams, was running for Fayetteville City Alderman. Now I have never known a political candidate or even an elected official before now. So this blog is about Rhonda and our election-day involvement with her campaign.

First of all, some random facts/observances about campaigning:

1. National elections are held on the first Tuesday in November.

2. Campaigners and campaign signs must not be within 100 feet of the polling places.

3. Polling places around here are generally held in churches.

4. I find #3 ironic since our country is founded on the separation of church and state, but I digress.

5. Polls open here at 7:30 am and close at 7:30 pm.

6. Bill, along with Chuck, manned the polling place from 7:30 to 10:30 am. Then Bill, Catherine, and I worked at the polling place from 4:30 pm until the polls closed.

7. Campaigners cannot speak to voters.

8. It was surprisingly windy.

9. Campaign signs make good sails.

10. Campaign signs make good wind breaks.

11. One should wear leather and not fleece gloves to hold signs because of #8 and #9.

12. As the hours pass, you can watch the sky change.

13. Addendum to #12: Chuck and I were reminded of the Roman sky with the circling storni at sunset.


Although Bill, Catherine, and I held signs for Rhonda, we could not vote for her because she lives in a different ward from us.

You know where you can vote because a sign tells you so.

Rhonda had all sorts of signs made up. This one I wore on my sweater.

Below is the official sign.

When the Police and the Firemen support you, there are big signs. Rhonda's husband, Chuck, is on the left.

Below is Catherine and next to her are two cops.

Based on appearance, I'm sure Catherine got more votes than I did!

Here's Bill at work.

This is Chuck. I neither decapitated him nor photoshopped his head into the picture!

Separation of church and state?

A little campaigner. Her grandfather was running for office.

Catherine and Rhonda at the Watch Party.

Catherine and Roberta at the Watch Party.

Catherine and Chuck's parents, Maxine and Roy, at the Watch Party.

Catherine looking like a politician-in-training!

Catherine and Rhonda notice me with the camera; meanwhile, Bill is glued to the TV!

Note: Elvis Presley has 0% of the vote for Governor!

Roberta is a very avid democrat. She loves politics and is giddy with election fever!

I look exhausted because, thanks to Daisy keeping me up the night before, I only had five hours' sleep.

Chuck and Rhonda, plus a little campaigner, Julia, notice I'm taking a picture. Roberta and Bob Moberly watching election returns on the TV.

The next morning. The TV crawl reads that Rhonda won the election!

Congratulations, Rhonda!

The Biedermeier Powder Room

Yes, I have a Biedermeier powder room. It's right off the front foyer on the way to the study and the kitchen. I've concluded that there are two kinds of people in the world--those who routinely close bathroom doors, even when they are not in use, and those who leave them open except when they are in use! I fall into the latter category. Therefore, I decided that I wanted my powder room, upon first glance, to appear as a formal room, worthy of its position on the main floor of the house. Besides, I wanted an excuse to use curly maple, a wood I love but one that my father never used.

Bill did not graduate with a B.A. from Xavier. No, he graduated with an H.A.B., Honors Bachelor of Arts. To earn that degree you had to take four years of Latin, four years of Ancient Greek, and 21 hours of Philosophy, along with all of the majors' requirements for the rest of the core (e.g., calculus for the pre-meds). In addition, he had enough hours in English to have gotten a degree in English, but at the time Xavier was not granting double majors. What does this have to do with a bathroom, you ask? Well, I decided that this powder room would pay homage to Bill's first degree in Classics. This room is in recognition of all of that hard work he did!

Biedermeier seemed like the most obvious choice.



If ever a bathroom was a temple, I guess this would be it! The thin black lines on the faces of the doors and drawers are real ebony inlays.




When Art Deco meets the Muses this is what you get! Bill applied the first coat of paint to the walls and I took care of the faux finish.




Here is a copy of a fresco of Diana. You can't tell it from this picture, but the mat has flecks of gold on the gray background, almost like an oil float; it sound gross but is really quite subtle and lovely.




Diana has her secrets, however. If you open the frame, you will find a medicine cabinet where we keep thermometers and allergy medications.





The room would not be complete without what we affectionately call "the Butt girls." The hang over the toilet to amuse, in particular, any male guests we have. The funny thing is that this had been hanging in our home for a number of years before Bill and I went through the Louvre. We explored one wing of the museum only to have learned when we got to the gift shop that had we chosen another wing we would have seen our Butt girls up-close and personal.




So, Sharon, I hope this room lives up to your expectations! Bill adds, "Come on out and see it for yourself!"

My home office

Recently, I created a home office for myself in the Cozy Room. The Cozy Room is the former dining room in our home, a room entirely too small for our dining room furniture. Originally, this room had one window on the north wall that looked out onto a large back screened-in porch that ran the entire length of the house. Needless to say, there wasn't much of a view or much light, either. When we decided to use the screened in porch for a formal dining room and an enlarged kitchen, we lost the window, leaving an interior room without any windows. Since the house already had a study and a family room, Bill came up with the name "Cozy Room."

My mom used to call our furniture style "Early Reed." The Cozy Room is a collection of Early Reed and Late Sam's Club and, well, portraits of dead people. Above the desk below is a portrait of my paternal grandfather, the doctor. The wedding picture on the right is of Bill's maternal grandparents who emigrated from Italy and settled in New Jersey. The chair is Eastlake. Bill bought the rug in Syria although it's a Persian rug from Naim, Iran. He had a little difficulty getting it through Customs but was insistent on it being a Syrian rug and finally wore down the Customs official with his stubborness. I guess we own contraband.






Below is a shot taken from the kitchen looking toward the living room. That old family portrait on the wall is that of Uncle Jack and his family. Uncle Jack was married to my great aunt. Apparently, he was quite a pianist and even owned a concert Steinway. Sadly, when he moved into the home with his bride, Aunt Mamie, the piano didn't fit, so he bought the piano you see in the living room. When Uncle Jack's father died, he willed Uncle Jack's Steinway to Uncle Jack's sister, who, by the way, didn't play the piano. Well, for that matter, I don't play, either. Still, it's kind of a poignant story.



Here's a view from the living room door towards the kitchen. There's little Daisy peaking around the door. Incidentally, she's over 17 years old! On the top shelf of the bookcase is my hard hat. Haven't had much use for it during this recession except during the ice storm; it protected me from the icicles once the sun came out!



Not everybody hanging on the wall is dead! There's my portrait painted when I was four years old. I still remember the photo shoot for that portrait. I was given something like a paperclip to hold in a very unnatural position. Maybe the artist didn't like to paint hands!



So that's my office--a windowless garden, but at least a cozy one!