Behold (picture my grand, sweeping gesture): five gifts that will not soon be forgotten:

Toys

1. Punjabi Prison Match Ring – Teaches the finer points of conflict resolution to those sweet tots looking for a rumble.

Home & Garden

2. “The Zombie of Montclaire Moors” Statue - Nothing reminds your loved one of the joy of living like sipping a beverage on the back porch and seeing a dead person climbing up from the petunias.

3. “Bigfoot, the Garden Yeti” Statue – Need cuter, furrier creatures in your yard?  Look no further.  Comes with complimentary paparazzi visits.

4. Alien Gnome Bandits Garden Accent – When your standard garden gnome doesn’t cut it anymore, these buggy creatures will gently haul him off to a “large farm, where he has lots of room to run and play.”

On the Go

5. Underwater Cellular Phone System – We’ve all been there: your loved one is into his/her daily scuba excursion and wouldn’t you know it? They forgot to return that call. Or maybe they want to have that pizza delivered hot and fresh when they get to shore. Here’s the answer.  Only caution them to order the pizza clearly, not “bwuppuuwroni wi swwausage.”

So there you have it. Aren’t you relieved to have this burden off your shoulders? You’re welcome.

Welcome back. Thanks for your patience.

My wonderful Information Technology advisor (aka my husband, David) has gotten the site resettled, and we’re good to go!

Which is your favorite month of the year? Of course, January is everyone’s best-loved month, right?

Okay, probably not.

Ten or 15 years ago January was last on my list. Back then I didn’t like cold weather, and January just seemed like a bleak, blustery, colorless month that had to be endured. I wondered if a person could get in on the bears’ hibernation deal.

What changed? Maybe it was when I got married in a January wedding. Suddenly there was a permanent bright spot on the calendar that time every year. Also around that time I launched into my transition from a hot-weather loving/cold-weather shunning girl into quite the opposite.

Whatever the reason, I now really like the first month of the year. While not my absolute favorite, it does have its charms. Yes, after Christmas and New Year’s, life resumes with the hustle and bustle of daily routines. …But overall, there seems to be a quiet simplicity that hushes the land. A brisk stillness that can be seen in bare tree branches and blankets of snow. It’s as if nature has paused for a moment.

It’s a welcome chance for me to pause as well, reminiscing with a smile about the holidays, being grateful for countless blessings, and feeling hopeful about the time ahead. Maybe that’s also why I’m drinking hot chocolate more often–it’s a chance to warm up and take a moment to stop and just think…often a rarity in our busy days.

(At least that’s the reason I tell myself as I take another sip.) =)

Sunny showers of falling leaves

–nature’s confetti dancing on the breeze,

celebrating the ripe, old year

that’s not quite ready to surrender

It stands for National Novel Writing Month.  Every November 1-30, novelists wanting a push to crank out first drafts gather at NaNoWriMo.org, register, and set a personal goal to wrestle into existence at least 50,000 words of a novel. The idea is to simply generate quantity, not quality, so that by the end of the month there’s raw material to shape and improve.

Of course, I’ve had no problem getting out my first draft of my novel.  (Those of you who know me well are stepping back, waiting lightning to strike me.) Sigh.  Alas, I’ve been slower than Christmas writing this novel.

I need deadlines.  So…I’m going to dive in to NaNoWriMo this year.  I can think of a million reasons why this is a horrible month to challenge myself with a goal like this, but when is there a good time?  The last few weeks I’ve missed concerted writing, and this is a great way to jump start me.

Will I meet the goal?  Who knows?  But this girl’s sure gonna give it her best shot.

Cheer me on or heckle me for lagging:  soon I’ll try to add a widget on this blog so you can see how far I’m getting.

I had one of those suspicions recently.

While on a short trip, I had just washed my hands in a convenience store bathroom. Turning to get a paper towel, I saw that it was one of those fancy machines…you know, the ones where you gracefully pass your hand in front of the sensor, and the dispenser complies by providing a towel.

At least, that’s the idea.

But this one had a low battery, or an attitude, or both. It emitted a groan of pain when I tried the normal routine. No dice.

I sighed and tried again, waving a little harder. It reluctantly gave up an inch of paper.

No paper towel machine was going to beat me. I gritted my teeth and ramped it up again, eventually waving so furiously that 1) my hands were dry already just from the movement, and 2) I looked like a little girl waving at Santa passing by in a Christmas parade, minus the smiles.

Oh, but I got my paper towel, make no mistake.

As I left, though, I had a distinct feeling that the machine was silently snickering at me.  Hmm…

Not anymore.

When the temperature sails past 100 with a smirk, I gaze longingly at my fireplace and pray for fall and winter.

But that would be wishing away the year, wouldn’t it?  As much as I can’t wait to pull out my sweaters and breathe crisp, cool air, I also want to enjoy today…not just endure it.

So, in an effort to enjoy the present, I’ll play a little mind game.  Do you ever try reverse psychology on yourself? Well, we’re going to try it now, so put out your imaginary psychologist’s shingle and hang your diploma on the wall next to mine.  I’m going to list some things that I do like about summer in order to take focus off of the life-sapping heat.

I like…

Leaves on the trees and plants in full bloom

Cookouts with friends and family

The Fourth of July

Home-grown tomatoes and other edibles

The local farmers’ market

Twinkling stars in the summer night sky

Driving at night with the windows down and the radio on

Road trips

So, what about you?  What do you like about summer?

Every once in a while, though, something catches my eye. This week my eye spied a show on Discovery Channel named “The Colony.” No, it’s not about pre-revoluntionary America or about bees.

It asks “What if?” about a specific scenario: a post-catastrophic Los Angeles…a region ravaged and broken…few humans left in an unrecognizable, new third-world reality in the middle of one of the world’s former powerhouses. A less-morbid version of Lord of the Flies. Thankfully we’re spared elimination votes and hokey challenge games that plague other shows.

Ten strangers must band together for survival in a cavernous warehouse with scarce resources, overcoming constant challenges. Where will water come from? Will we be secure tonight? Can we make it through without killing each other?

The rag-tag group finds itself filled with diverse faces and backgrounds, from a young Tampa doctor to an older Croatian communism refugee-turned-engineer. More or less necessity forges hasty bonds.

Now, two thoughts struck me as I started watching.  First, as I took in the bleak images my heart ached to remember that this isn’t “What if?” for millions of precious people day after every torturous day, scraping together an existence.  We’re so insulated here and that’s easy to forget other swaths of the world. This isn’t a far-fetched scenario just for TV.

Second, no matter how real the show’s producers made the particpants’ new world, there must have always been a kernel of unreality in the back of their mind. Sure, the whole thing must’ve felt scary-real most of the time.  But each could remember, when necessary, that should true danger threaten, help would arrive.

Those acknowledged, this show’s premise has reeled me in.  It’s fascinating to witness the painful birth of a tiny society from the ground up.  Food is scavanged. Need attracts ingenuity like a magnet…clever devices and solutions sprout up as collaboration gains momentum. Threats from outside the group quiet internal squabbling for a moment and galvanize unity a little more.

By the end of this last episode, a participant has filled most of a blank wall with hieroglyphs of the group’s “history” and progress, and a code of cooperation has been created by consensus won by harsh experience.

And it’s inevitable that the thought drifts in: How would I react in this situation?

Thinking about all of this reminds me of this reality: humans are created to rely on each other. I can’t always do it on my own, as much as I want to sometimes. Whether for a short time or a lifetime, the need for each other is woven into the fiber of our souls.

It’s a God-given trait; even God Himself is three-in-one. How amazing it is that this interdependence shows up in every corner of the world despite an individual’s beliefs.  Things are far from perfect in any community– groups often fight and splinter–but I smile at this glimpse of God’s design that no society can fully resist.

Then…magic.  I heard the sizzle and smelled the heavenly aroma of popcorn and salt. Pop!  …Pop pop pop pop! The foil top ballooned and steam escaped like a popcorn volcano. Soon we munched happily, but the making of it was always the best part.

Yes, I’m talking about Jiffy Pop popcorn.

It was one of my favorite memories from the growing-up years.  We only had Jiffy Pop when we took family trips to the mountains of northern New Mexico, so it was quite a treat.

Isn’t it funny how sometimes the littlest things stick with you, creating triggers of those happy times?  And you can’t predict what they will be; often it’s the tiniest, random things or moments that find their way into permanent residence in your heart. To this day I make a point of continuing the Jiffy Pop tradition any time my family goes camping.

What are some of the little things you remember that bring warm memories to mind?