A Key West Christmas, Christmas isn't Over Until Mrs. Claus Sings, and Other Random Holiday Things

Sweater: Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Pink Palm Tree Barrette

The Christmas palm tree is finally ablaze!  And January 2 or not, I couldn't help but snap a pic next to it in last year's flamingo sweater.

My New Year's Eve ensemble was quieter.  Unless you count the uncorked pop of my champagne bottle purse.  (Speaking of which, there was a fizzy, noisy mess when the husband opened the sparkling cider.  Perhaps the grocery delivery people enjoyed a game of catch -- or just pulled a prank -- with it.)  To celebrate, my parents came over.  We had takeout, took in a Jim Gaffigan special, and then turned on New Year's Rockin' Eve to watch the ball drop.  Also, there were hats.  

Sweater: Macy's

Go for the Golden Girl Necklace

As for my old Go for the Golden Girl Necklace, I'd planned to wear it even before I heard about Betty White's passing.  Which turned out to be weird but fitting.

And that, dear readers, is a wrap on the holiday season.  

At least until the carnival-level revelry of Groundhog Day.  

Golden Good-bye: Jest in Peace, Rose

I called my sister earlier today, and the first thing she said was, "Are you calling about Betty White?"

"No," I said, "I just wanted to see how you were."  Then, more, hesitantly, "Why?  Did she die?"

And my sister said she had, just weeks shy of her hundredth birthday.

I don't have to tell you that Betty White is a national treasure.  Or that I'm a huge fan and have posted about her many times over the years.  So hearing that she'd passed was strange, even though I sort of expected it.  There was so much hoopla about her upcoming milestone birthday that I couldn't help but think, isn't that tempting fate?  What if . . . 

She wasn't sick.  And I imagine -- and very much hope -- that she went peacefully.  But ninety-nine is very old, and I don't think it's too much to ask that someone that age not keep going.  Betty had a beautiful life, beloved by people of all ages, and she brought the world so much laughter.  So I've decided to focus on that.       

Good-bye, Betty.  May you enjoy many a cheesecake -- and hot dog -- in heaven.

Sunset Duet of Poinsettias

Tights: Hue, Amazon

Scrunchie: Ella & Elly, Zulily; Rhinestones necklaces: Macy's; Yellow necklace: So, Kohl's

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Bag: Wet Seal

Sweater: Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Red Poinsettia Barrette

Shoes: Katy Perry Collection

I postponed this post because I was holding out for a pic with my Christmas palm tree.  But technical difficulties (I'm talking to you, bum extension cord) put the kibosh on that pipe dream.  So here's my festive foliage in the form of, not palms, but poinsettias.  

I wore the dress on Christmas day (yes, it's the same style as my red one!) and the sweater and jeans on Christmas Eve.  Which is kind of funny, because when I was a kid, it was the other way around.  Christmas Eve was dress up time, whereas Christmas was more like an all-day pajama party.  But this year we opened gifts with my nieces and nephew on Christmas Eve, and that was definitely a sweater occasion.  So I saved the dress for Christmas dinner with the husband and my parents.  

I like the poinsettia print on the dress because it kind of looks like needlepoint.  And I like the poinsettia barrette because, well, I made it.  No false modesty here!   

The sun may be setting on Christmas, but this blog is a hothouse of holiday horticulture.

In other words, I haven't given up on that palm pic.     

A Cozy Snooze for Winter Blues: It Takes a Village, People

Could winter get any cozier than snuggling up in a seaside English cottage?  In this always-cold blogger's opinion, yes!  Once upon a time, I lived at the beach, and come winter, it was bitingly bitter.  I imagine that U.K. beach winters are even more frigid.  But Jenny Bayliss's A Season for Second Chances sends us on a glacial getaway that doesn't chill to the bone; if anything, it offers the warmest of hearths, radiating comfort and joy.  Last December, I read and loved Bayliss's debut novel, The Twelve Dates of Christmas.  So, when I heard about Bayliss's sophomore book, I knew it'd be just as winsome.    

Star restauranteur Annie Sharpe's life is turned upside down when she catches her husband with a waitress.  Unable to look the other way this time -- Max has strayed before, although Annie's never had to see it -- she leaves London for remote Willow Bay to look after an elderly stranger's cottage.  Which sounds crazy.  But a disappearing act is just what Annie needs.  And the denizens of her new beach village are only too happy to help her.  (So much for British reserve!)  Part of me is always surprised when this sort of story captivates me -- I mean, I'm the kind of person who avoids not only strangers, but people I know.  Yet then I remember that in books like this (unlike real life!), almost everyone has good intentions.  In A Season for Second Chances, that goes double for everyone, including the homeless guy camping out in Annie's tearoom.  Before you get the wrong idea, no, he's not her curmudgeonly love interest.  That would be the big, bad developer (okay, the big, bad developer's friend) who's itching to bulldoze the cottage.  

For yes, this book has some romance.  Bayliss serves it up along with delectable baked goods and enough tangy humor to keep your teeth from rotting.  Even Annie's grown sons are well-adjusted and funny, an affable pair of twins supportive of their mother's new-found independence.  No boys club vibes in this village!

That said, A Season for Second Chances is an engaging mix of old-fashioned charm and modern mores, making for an enlightened, rural, feel-good yarn.  

Which is my way of saying that it's a story well worth being marooned with.

Christmas Wreath Thief

No Photoshop here!  This is my very real head poking out from a very fake forsythia wreath -- and my neck has the scratches to prove it!  If the wreath looks familiar, then it's because I snatched it from my fireplace before slapping on a red bow.  

That said, here's wishing you a very happy - and scratch free! -- holiday filled with all the things and people you love  No touchups needed. :)       

Merry Christmas Eve Eve from Our Pal Steve

Zahn, that is.  Because I'm talking about the HBO Max original movie 8-Bit Christmas (which does indeed, however indirectly, have something to do with this pic.  But we'll get there.).  As nostalgic and charmingly rough around the edges as A Christmas Story, 8-Bit Christmas strikes a chord with anyone who's ever made a Christmas list, but especially those of us who grew up in the '80s.  Jake Doyle (Neil Patrick Harris) tries to connect with his cell phone-obsessed daughter by telling her the tale of how his tween self would stop at nothing to get a Nintendo.  So starts the setup for a classic Christmas frame story as Jake detours down memory lane.  And it turns out that scoring an NES is a tall order for young Jake (Winslow Fegley) and his ragtag group of friends.  First, because Nintendos are hard to come by in 1988.  Secondly, because, in a rare case of conscience over consumerism, the local parents' protest against video games has convinced stores not to sell them.  Jake's own dad (Steve Zahn) would rather Jake spend his time helping him with his endless home renovations than snagging extra lives and getting to the next level.  That is, when he's not nagging Jake to pick up the dog poop dotting their yard.  But Jake doesn't listen.  When he realizes that he's not getting a Nintendo for Christmas, he enters a competition to win one.  His tunnel vision pursuit of Super Mario Brothers bliss begets one disaster after another.  Yet somewhere in this caper -- which also features girls' Esprit snow boots, counterfeit Cabbage Patch Kids, and a steady stream of upchucked SpaghettiOs -- is the meaning of Christmas.

This was only one of my takeaways from the movie.  The other was that I won a Nintendo in 1989 for drawing this:

Never mind that the "little" girl is too big to fit through the door of the candy cottage.  Or that the angel doubles as a banner plane.  No, the most questionable thing going on here is the seemingly inexplicable sentence scrawled at the bottom: "I'm a girl!"

 All I can say is that for Halloween that year, I'd gone as an astronaut, and some young thug at the mall (because, yes, that's where I went trick-or-treating) hooted, "Hey, look at the little astronaut dude!"  Although I now see this as the compliment it was, I was filled with all the righteous indignation of a serious seven-year-old, my fury so fierce that it made its way onto my art contest entry more than a month later.  Which, now that I think of it, has a bit of a gender bender parallel, however tenuous, with something that happens in the movie.  Not to worry; as my gift to you, I'll squelch my spoiler impulses.  

None of this is the punchline of this yuletide anecdote, though.  That would be that I already had a Nintendo, kind of sort of making me the spoiled kid in 8-Bit Christmas -- minus the power plays and bullying.  (Always on the other side of the bully divide, I played my two Nintendos by myself, thank you very much.)  But nerd or not, I was still a nerd with multiple gaming systems, and this embarrassment of riches is just one of the reasons I (briefly) considered not blogging about this humble brag of an art contest win.  

We all knew how that would turn out.

Now the NES is a relic and kids play with something called the Switch.  But even if 8-bit doesn't mean what it used to, it's still better than a two-bit anything else.

And also picking up dog poop.

North Pole Stroll

Tights: Isadora, Zulily

Merry Kitschmas Necklace

Bag: Violet Ray, Kohl's

Bag: Nordstrom

Boots: Mix No. 6, DSW

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Boots: ShoeDazzle, Zulily

Fabulous Felt Christmas Wreath Brooch

Clutch: Merona, Target

Top: Xhilaration, Target

Ring: PinkBopp

Happy first day of winter!  Given my hatred of snow and ice, you'd think I'd be the first to snap, grumpy-old-woman-style, "Oh yeah?  What's so happy about it?"  But Christmas being just four days away goes a long way to soften the blow.

As does a Christmas-themed winter wardrobe.  For yes, I'm still trotting out the Kris Kringle clothes -- minus the hat.  Unless you count my Santa hat and stocking-print dress.  It's an oldie but a goodie, like most of the things I'm wearing.  Including my fabulous PinkBopp ring, which I proudly bust out each year.  And my ugly sweater-print top, which I wore to cruise Christmas lights.  And last but certainly not least, the lovely lime and black plaid infinity scarf that my sister made me.  I could go on, but I won't.

I wouldn't want to upset the elves.