Are We Here Yet?

Yes, I believe we are.

And so, according to the Mayans, we are beginning a New Age. And what a grand age it will be!

How do I know this?

Because together we will make is so!

But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to worry about…

Your kitchen calendar will end… (Gulp!)…

in ten days!

 

PROMPT: Hey, it’s a whole new world this weekend – so Rejoice! What will you do with your new age? And remember, anything’s possible… any wondrous and wonderful thing.

Toot Uncommon

Yep, they’re belting out yesterday’s “special” ode, I’m sure.

 

Right after I posted yesterday, I opened my local paper and was blindsided by a story about some Trappist monks who are making a mint from their “heavenly” fruitcake.

Great.

Now God is on their side.

Look, I don’t care how many times you bless it, fruitcake still stinks.

But that’s not what today’s post is about.

Today’s post is really about this –

 

Let’s forget about those Mayans for a minute and walk like an Egyptian…

Because I’m heading to Seattle to see Steve Martin’s favorite honky.

Yep, King Tut.

I know I should be more respectful –

He is the Boy King after all.

But Mr. Martin completely ruined that possibility for me back in 1978. Anyone who lived through the Carter administration knows that Tut was positively funky and buried with a donkey.

There are just some things you can’t unremember.

So, of course, I simply have to share.

Enjoy it here.

 

PROMPT: The Tut-meister became king at the age of 9. Sounds like a very interesting predicament for your next main character. Imagine a world with National Wii Day or mandatory potty humor. Makes the Hunger Games look like a cakewalk, eh?

 

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

I’m pretty sure that one will be arriving any day now.

They always do this time of year.

And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I am not a fruitcake fan.

Neither is my husband…

Or my son.

My daughter, however, is a different story.

The girl loves fruitcake.

And I’m pretty sure this scientifically proves that fruitcake-loving is a recessive gene.

But here’s another thing I’ve noticed about fruitcake lovers –

They’re pretty passionate about that cement-textured fruity goodness.

In fact, I’ve found that most of them become highly offended by fruitcake criticism.

It’s strange isn’t it?

I mean, if you think chocolate absolutely, totally stinks, you won’t see me getting my knickers in a twist. No way. I’d be too busy thinking – Great! More for me!

Not so with the fruitcake fancier. Even as I type this, I can sense them rearing up – ready to impale me with comment darts below.

I’m thinking it’s a good bet that the recessive fruitcake-loving gene is somehow linked with the gene for culinary defensiveness.

But I do digress.

At any rate, I am thrilled by my daughter’s fervor for fruitcake. I will be delighted by her delight when I lob that weighty little package her way.

Maybe I’ll even dig up some of the others for her.

You know, the ones I used to make book shelves…

Steady the filing cabinet…

Anchor the tarps on the woodpile…

 

PROMPT: On what side of the fruitcake gene pool does your main character swim? Painters – wouldn’t fruitcake be the perfect still life subject? Think of it, you could work on this masterpiece for years without refrigeration. Poets and musicians – how ‘bout a carol? Get some inspiration from Barbara Rittenhouse and Leigh Anna Reichenbach who wrote this lovely ode to an old familiar tune –

 

In the bleak midwinter

Sitting all alone

In a breadbox on the shelf

Fruitcake hard as stone.

No one dares to taste it –

Or remove the bow

For we know that it was made

Oh so long ago…

 

Find the rest in the book Santa’s Pants are Falling Down and Other Silly Songs of the Season… sure to bring a smile to your face, even if you’re one of those serious fruitcake fans.

No Better Way

On Saturday I picked up The Provence Cure for the Brokenhearted by Bridget Asher.

And there it was on page 16 –

An artist speaking to the main character, who is recently widowed...

“You’ve got to get back to creating,” he says. “There’s no better way to mourn.”

Thank you, thank you, Mr. Artist Man –

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

So that’s exactly what we’re going to do.

 

PROMPT: What will you create this week? I think I’m seeing one seriously imaginative gingerbread house in my very near future.

Today is a Good Day…

To decide

to LOVE.

 

PROMPT: Love is a verb… the only verb you’ll need today. Love children, love grown-ups, love the in-between, love words, love art, love family, love friends, love dogs, love windows, love cats, love trees, love rocks, love foes, love frogs, love birds…love…love…love…