Birthday

Having a birthday on New Years Eve is no picnic. Restaurant prices are inflated, drunks fill the roads, everyone is sick of buying presents and the weather is atrocious.

But one memorable year when I was a young mother, my birthday was a picnic - literally. My husband and kids cranked up the thermostat, dressed in shorts and sandals, moved back the living room furniture and spread out our picnic sheet in the middle of the room. We all sat around feasting on our favorite summer picnic foods... tuna sandwiches, potato chips and raw vegetables. The sheet kept the cake crumbs moderately contained.

The years passed and our family scattered, mostly to the southwest. I realized that the perfect cure for a winter birthday was within grasp. Money was no longer as tight, and I could leave the birthday blizzards behind.

My dear mother-in-law in Tucson gave me a birthday party for many, many years. She had finally figured out that my favorite color was not brown. Therefore the kitchen table in her trailer sported her best Vera designed tablecloth covered with purple violets. Everything she cooked tasted wonderful, and her cakes were legendary. She pegged me as an angel food type.

I wish these birthdays could have lasted forever, but, as Robert Frost noted, "nothing gold can stay". So here's fair warning to my family and friends in warm climates... don't be surprised if you find me on your doorstep on December 31.

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Tree

Your children should never forgive you for certain things. In my case it would be the living Christmas tree.

Like many disasters, this one started with the noblest intentions. I had read that in many parts of the country people bought small, real pine trees balled in burlap for their Christmas trees. After the holidays, the tree was moved to a patio or deck and then planted when weather allowed.

Our nurseries in Wisconsin are all closed for the winter as our yards are solidly frozen.

So I was delighted to spot a nursery in South Bend, Indiana, that had rows of these living Christmas trees for sale. Our family was returning home from a Thanksgiving trip, our two children tucked in the back seat. I must add that we have never owned a large car.

I rallied the troops. "We can do this", I pleaded. "It's only 170 miles. We can save a tree."  The kids were aghast, but they stoically allowed us to jam the tree with its sizable earth ball between them in the back seat.

Somehow our mobile nursery arrived home, and the tree was appropriately adorned for the season. The kids would have preferred a 10 footer. After New Years, the tree was removed to the deck to await Spring's arrival. In Wisconsin a four month wait is de rigueur.

My husband dutifully dug the hole as soon as he could get his shovel into the ground. The little tree was planted with high hopes. I'm sure you all know the 3 word outcome of this story. The tree died. To which I will add that my son plans to spend the rest of his life in California, a state where living Christmas trees stand a fighting chance.

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Gadgets

Gadgets are primarily guy things. I figured this out many years ago when my brother-in-law gave me a battery-operated paper towel dispenser as a Christmas present. Push a button and, voila, one sheet winds down. He was smitten. I was dumbfounded. This device defined superfluousness to me.

My husband loves gadgets, too, but he tries hard not to impose them on me. Occasionally, he cannot resist trying to enhance my life with gadgetry. The electric broom would be a good example. No, this gizmo is not a carpet sweeper. It looks exactly like a good, old-fashioned broom, bristles and all. The electric part zooms into action to suck up the pile one has manually swept up. In other words, the broom fills up with dirt. Give me a dust pan any day.

Needless to say, I have very few gadgets around the house. I absolutely do not need electric toothbrushes, Cuisinarts, bread machines, leaf blowers or electric cheese graters.  Don't get me wrong. I believe a few gadgets are so essential that they should be in a gadget hall of fame. I would nominate:

• The compact hand-held hair dryer
  
• The Swing-Away manual can opener
  
• The gizmo that opens stuck jar lids
  

Any nominations?

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Recycle

We had one of our best Christmas trees in July, and it required absolutely no effort on our part.

This very special tree started out with hundreds of others on a tree farm in Central Wisconsin. We met up with it one blustery December day in our Piggly Wiggly store's parking lot. Once home, the tree was ensconced in the dining room and carefully decorated by my husband.

When the holidays were over, we recycled the tree. Down to the beach it went to ultimately be turned into driftwood by the wave action in Lake Michigan.

We would occasionally see our tree, now sans needles, when we were able to take long walks on the beach in spring. The tree would wash up and down the beach, but it also disappeared for weeks at a time. By the start of summer, the tree had vanished.

One July day we were coming back to our beach stairs after a hike, and there it was on our neighbor's beach, our tree, planted upright in the sand and completely decorated with dead fish. You will just have to imagine this, as we were laughing so hard our last thought was of getting a camera.

We later found out that the fish tree was the brainstorm of our neighbor's grandson. He hung the dead fish from the holes where their eyes used to be. (Gulls eat the eyes of the dead fish that float in) You might say our entire neighborhood is big on recycling.

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Grinch

It appears as though the Grinch has stolen the American economy. Moreover, it doesn't look as if he's bringing it back any time soon.

Every since 1957 when Dr Seuss, aka Theodor Seuss Geisel, invented the cantankerous Grinch, the annual telling of the Grinch story is as traditional as the Nutcracker. Christmas almost can't happen in America without the Grinch.

Any toddler can tell you that the poor residents of Whoville have all their trees, trimmings, presents and feasts stolen by Mr. Grinch. BUT CHRISTMAS COMES JUST THE SAME! Eyes all over America tear up at this point in the telling.

We have a reality check about to occur. Will American children delight in playing board games with their folks as opposed to getting a 58 inch plasma TV under their tree? Can Christmas come for our kids without a boatload of toxic Chinese made toys waiting to be unwrapped? Can Christmas occur for the big folks without the latest techie gadgets?

Everyone professes to believe that the Whos in Whoville had a true Christmas, sans presents, trees and trimmings. But what if the Grinch's heart, aka the American economy, doesn't grow three sizes? We are probably about to find out the truth behind the legend.

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