Whorederves

I really thought about re-posting an old entry today.

How droll. People want to read new stuff.

I could act like it was a new entry. No one would know the difference.

Someone would catch you. They would tell you that they read this a year ago.

Then I would just admit to lying. People adore it when you confess of your sins and display humble contrition.

Humble contrition?

Yeah, but only if I'm caught.

Why are you here if you have nothing original to say?

My wife told me that I need to get on the stick and write a blog entry. But I don't have the mental faculties to direct to bloggering. I haven't even opened this thing for two weeks.

You have mental faculties?

Yeah. They are finely tuned to the Christmas stuff. A zillion presents. Christmas cards. All this decorating. Then we need to come up with some whorederves for Christmas Eve.

You mean hors d'oeurvres?

We always have the stupid Swedish meatballs and those little sausage things swimming in hot pineapple preserves and deviled eggs and those dinky little sandwiches only fit for elves. I can hear the kids now: "Well, I guess we have to go to Mom and Dad's and have those damn chocolate candies that Dad always makes." We need to get imaginative, without too much complication.

It is just family, isn't it?

Yeah, all 18 of 'em. Marilyn vetoed my ordering Pizza idea. We even got a book from the library on Christmas Party ideas and it was depressing. They seemed to have ingredients that I have never heard of and took sixteen hours to fix. I'm not looking for elegance, just simple and imaginative. Maybe a platter from Chic Fila.

Maybe someone will come up with some ideas for you.

I wish someone would decorate that tree in the front yard for me. Not only does Marilyn want the trunk and branches wrapped up in white lights, but she also wants me to roll red lights into balls somehow tied so they won't come unraveled, and hang them down from the branches. Did you know it is cold out there? Do you know there are no available plugs outside? I am going to have to run extension cords through the window to tap into interior power, assuming we have any interior power left.

Have you considered the notion that maybe you are over doing Christmas a bit?

Months ago I thought about getting one of those computer driven systems that plays Christmas songs with all the lights dancing....except I wanted to do it inside. I thought that would be cool. Just imagine...everyone sitting their talking and suddenly the Hallelujah Chorus blasts out and all of the fourteen zillion lights in the house flashes on and off to the music and...

Whoa!

Marilyn vetoed that idea. But I have come up with some innovative ideas. I was the one that suggested using red and green light bulbs in the overhead light in the den.

 
I see.

And then I took over decorating the patio.

Who decorates patios?

Maybe that is why she would only let me decorate the patio. But I did it brilliantly. Who but me would have thought to put red lights in the chiminea?

Did you notice the logs in there? And the tin foil to reflect the lights. Hmmm -- I need to figure out how to hide that cord.

Tacky comes to mind.

My mind is brimming with decorating ideas. I just don't understand why she won't let my brilliance branch out to the front of the house. She even ignores me when I come up with great ideas for inside the house. I still think draping lights from the edges of the living room ceiling to the center of the ceiling would be great -- sort of a circus tent illusion. She keeps muttering some nonsense about being tasteful. I guess I am limited to my artistic essence being displayed in the patio. I wonder where I could get some gray lights.

Gray lights?

Just think. I could have billowing gray lights coming from the chimney of the chiminea like fluffy smoke. That would mean more cords to hide though. It's hard being brilliant.

On second thought, you really don't have time to write a blog today.

I wonder if wrapping cheese stuffed wieners in crescent rolls would work for whorederves? And I personally think we should ditch the Christmas card idea. This is the internet age. We just need to send emails saying Merry Christmas. You know I could have that billowing smoke billow all the way to the edge of the roof...it would kind of like the Smoke Monster from Lost. And what about...