1. I took a poll today. The question was “Which celebrity is most YOU?” The choices were Jennifer Hudson, Jennifer Lopez, and Nicole Richie. I answered purely based on the size of my butt.

2. I read a blog every day that’s all about fashion. It’s written by two gay guys who call their readers “kittens”. I may steal that. “I’m off to play bridge, Kittens!” It has a nice ring.

3. I came up with a word for the Urban Dictionary. It’s Slanghai – stealing someone else’s slang and claiming it as your own. Yeah, that’s mine. You’re welcome.

4. I read that Israel has developed a Stink Bomb. Supposedly it smells so bad, people just fall down and puke. At my house, we call that Gitzo’s Breath.

5. My favorite Facebook post of the day was from my friend Ken.

“Maybe I don’t have it so bad.”

I agree.

Santa? Are you listening?

Bacon Flavored Jelly Beans! Need I say more?

Pimp your smile with Grillz Candy!

A bridge mug for your partner! We’re having a 75% game – get it? HAHAHA.

Christmas scented Smencils! Oh sure, sniffing Smencils is fine, but one little drag from a magic marker and suddenly your in the principals office for “counseling”!

Christmas is going to be awesome this year.

Yes, Mother, I’m telling THAT story. The one you always tell me to STOP telling.

Eight years ago, MP was just a baby, JD was working in non-profit, and I wasn’t working at all. As you can imagine, we weren’t exactly candidates for Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous! Does anyone remember that show? Anyway, as we were preparing for our first Christmas as parents, money was tight and we were looking for ways to keep costs down. So we decided NOT to buy a Christmas tree.

I might have been sad. I MIGHT have yelled at my husband. I may or may NOT have left the house to go shopping at some “crappy store to buy people junk that they wouldn’t like anyway.” Basically, a real testament to the joy that is Christmas.

Anyway, while I was out running errands, a police car pulls in the driveway. They confirm with JD that they are at the right house, then call into their radio for the TRUCK.  Yes, a TRUCK pulls into our driveway and begins to unload a Christmas tree! Somehow, a local church was giving away trees and they got our name. So out pours the tree, decorations, lights – the whole shebang!

Yeah, I MIGHT have cried. There we were, with no tree, but the Lord provided. My mother fussed when I told her. “I would have bought you a tree! Stop telling that story.”

But I refused. For eight years I’ve been telling of our Christmas tree miracle. Then a few weeks ago I ran into a friend of mine. Carol goes to the church that provided the tree and I’ve always suspected that she had something to do with it. When I told her the story, she shrugged and said, “I think Carolyn’s Sunday School class was doing something.”

Carolyn? Oh, you mean CAROLYN, who just happened to be living in our pool apartment? Carolyn who went to that church and was spending her first Christmas in Georgia? OH.

You don’t think…? Nah. I’m sure it was meant for us. Carolyn had just had twins. If it were meant for her, I’m sure they would have sent two.

Because I’m uncomfortably stuffed into my clothes like a human version of Summer Sausage, I’m finding it difficult to find the motivation to blog. Whew. That sentence alone has me huffing and puffing like a long walk up a mountain. Or to my mailbox, whichever.

The point is – here’s a picture.

A couple of weeks ago we went to Zollicoffer for a vintage fashion show. My mother has been doing this for about 12 years  and I’ve gone from modeling the first year, to helping the models dress, then running the music, and then MC’ing, to finally being demoted to setting up, breaking down, and running out for coffee.

This photo of MoonPie and my grandmother, (NINETY-FREAKING-SEVEN) was taken right after MP sang the books of the Old Testament to her. Then Granny asked me if we go to church and I’m like, DUH.  Why do you think I had my daughter sing the Old Testament to you? So you’d KNOW.

Geez. 97 and still no appreciation for sarcasm.

Where was I? Oh yeah, too fat to blog. Luckily, my niece Nolan (17) spent the night and I told her to sign on to I-Tunes and download some good music for me. So at least there’s that.

Enjoy!

2nd favorite Thanksgiving moment – when my husband gave THIS picture to the family for posterity. –

Sure there were other photos where I was standing BEHIND him, but let’s use the one where I look huge AND have a gruesome look on my face.

Awesome. I took 30 seconds and photoshopped my hips, but HE couldn’t be bothered.

See? Photo 1, a HOSS. Photo 2, a somewhat smaller farm animal. As for the LOOK on my face, that was caused by my #1 favorite Thanksgiving day moment. A few seconds before the photo was taken, my niece Nolan gave me a big hug and yelled, “Are you wearing SPANX?”

Ahh, good times. Well, at least we know why the back row is laughing.

I have so many things to be thankful for – here’s just a few, in no particular order.

1. A great season of life – no one’s in the hospital, we’re not awaiting test results, no court cases pending – life is good!

2. My husband is awesome. Really, he’s awesome.

3. I’m a mom! My daughter rocks my world and I can’t really remember life before her. What did I DO all day?

4. Lots of great family. I thought I hit the lottery with MY family, then I met my husband’s side. I’m like those people that buy TWO lottery tickets and win both times.

5. A job that allows me to work from anywhere. So I can spend my morning watching this –

6. In-laws who live at the beach. See above.

7. My Life Transformation Group – my watchmen on the wall – who keep me straight!

8. I got to go to India. Did you hear I went to INDIA? It was awesome. I want to go back.

9. I have an agent. Someone read my book and believes she can SELL it. I’m thankful there are people out there who will believe anything.

10. Grace. I’m thankful for GRACE – from my Lord, my family, my friends. I need a lot of it and they give it.

Thank YOU for being part of my life! Happy Thanksgiving.

1. When was the first Thanksgiving celebration?

2. What do you call a female turkey?

3. What do you call a male turkey?

4. Approximately how many feathers does a mature turkey have?

5. How fast can a wild turkey run?

6. What percentage of American homes eat turkey on Thanksgiving?

7. What country consumes the most turkey per year per capita?

The first person to correctly answer all of the questions wins a free bridge lesson from me. Also known as nothing.

EVERYTHING is about competition now. Seriously, remember when we watched TV to see football, baseball, maybe the occasional tennis match? Now it’s Cupcake Wars, Project Runway, Man vs. Food, Dancing with the Stars, Ice Skating with the Stars, The Apprentice and The Biggest Loser to name a a few. I am pretty sure I could win The Apprentice if I felt like it.

Seriously. Does everyone feel that way?

I took a break from the grindstone and went with my mother-in-law to The Lodge. She was teaching a bridge lesson on stripping the hand and end plays – VERY interesting stuff – and I wanted to be supportive. You know Mother-in-laws. It’s not like I NEEDED a bridge lesson. Hello? Didn’t I just win 1st in C ? Yes, yes I did! Afterwards, I came home, did more WORK, and then went to the bridge club to kibitz.  All that competition got us in the mood to come home and watch Dancing with the Stars.

VoteBristolPalinVoteBristolPalin

As a C player who’s playing in the OPEN game tomorrow, I might be pulling for the under-dog.

Speaking of competition, in this years Thanksgiving Wars, I’ve already eaten TWO Ranitidine and thrown up once. Thanksgiving 1, Me 0.

I’m in St. Simons, struggling through another bridge-filled week with the in-laws. I was tempted to just forget the blog for a few days, but I thought why quit when I can just “phone-it-in.”

My brother-in-law has been preparing our feast for weeks. One of the most popular aspects is the Chatham Artillery Punch. I’m re-blogging the recipe for those of you who need a little extra help with those “favorite” relatives you see once a year.

And by “favorite”, I mean anyone related to me.

Originated with the Chatham Artillery, Savannah, Ga., and served in that city for more than 100 years. It is delicious, seductive, powerful. This is the punch that knocked out Admiral Schley when he visited Savannah in 1899 after the Spanish War. Admiral Cervera’s Spanish shells were harmless to the brave American admiral, but Artillery Punch scored a direct hit which put him out for two days. Serves 100 (or 10 Admirals)”

1 lb. green tea
2 gallons cold water
3 gallons Catawba wine
1 gallon rum
1 gallon brandy
1 gallon rye whiskey
5 lbs. brown sugar
2 qts. cherries
juice of three dozen oranges
juice of three dozen lemons
1 gallon gin
12 quarts of champagne

Enjoy!