Bonnie Red Weasel

No flirting with wenches? Well, how about weasels? Anyhow, I am resolving to lose these damned fifty pounds so I can look at myself in the mirror and smile for a change!

It's a very lovely looking hat.

Hitman, it frightens me that you know this. I honestly have no idea if it's bad for the metal or not, but I've used a very light spray of WD-40 on both steel weapons and metal armor for more years than I care to admit to, both to remove the slightest powdering of oxidation, and to keep it from further damage. With nothing but light cleaning with water if necessary, hand sharpening and buffing, and a tiny bit of WD-40 (wiped off, of course, after spraying), my blades have all stayed looking lovely. My old Buck "camping" knife, after an amazing amount of use and abuse, and long wet hiking trips, and occaisional storage in a wet sheath (get your mind out of the gutter), still looks absolutely new.

Okay, I'm still choking on the thought of an 8 1/2 foot snake whip. Just what sort of snakes would you be whipping with that thing? I tend to attach a little snake whip to my belt just to look cutesy (plus, it makes a lovely little gunshot pop when I want to scare the hell out of drunks), but I've never seen such a thing documented, and it would not be part of strict period attire for me. I am the quartermaster on my "ship," and if I really were a GAoP pirate holding this position, it is something I would more than likely not only use, but also display. Of course, as a woman, I wouldn't likely be aboard the ship, let alone be appointed quartermaster. And I can tell you from experience that a whip worn on one's belt has a bad habit of getting caught on stuff if you're doing any actual work.

I am a dog person who married a cat person. So, naturally, I got, first, a bird. He was a budgie (Australian parakeet), and I adopted him both because of the therapeutic effects of birdsong, and because I thought, as a pirate, that I ought to have a parrot (the term "parrot" is actually descriptive of a whole range of hookbill birds). Lo (my budgie) was a wonderful companion for me, but although I hand-tamed him, he preferred me (they often prefer just one person), and allowed my young daughters only very limited contact with him (although he did love to go on bike rides with my oldest daughter, sitting either on her shoulder, or on the bar between the handlebars). So, they continued to very much want a more hands-on pet. A "pettable," "cuddlable" pet. I figured if I brought a dog home, my husband would make me take it back anyhow, so instead, I started scouting out cats at the local shelter. And one day, when my then newly four year old daughter visited the shelter with me, a little cat decided that he had to come home with us. Seriously. When it was time to put him back in his cage, he clung onto Gillian's shirt with all his strength. I literally couldn't pull him out of her arms, and had to enlist the help of a shelter employee. The pathetic crying from the little kitten as he was returned to the cage, and pawed at the door and watched us as we left the room was more than I could take. I really believe that God, is His infinite wisdom, had some hand in all that, because the very next week, we lost my beloved Lo (the budgie) due to a week-long power outage caused by a horrible ice storm. The cat (Khan) was a great comfort to me. Anyhow, I really got Khan as a pet for the girls, but I've come to enjoy sharing a home with him more than I ever thought I could. He seems to sense when I'm very upset, and pesters me until I stop everything, and gather him in my arms and pet him. Of course, the peace and quiet and the gentle affection in these moments is good for me. He's probably a little more like a dog than like a cat, perhaps because I'm a "dog person." He comes when I call him, he plays fetch, he greets me at the door when I've been out, and he licks my feet mercilessly in the mornings. I think all this stuff is good for the soul.

Christmas gift? For me? Okay, now that I've stopped laughing... To be fair, my husband got me a pretty huge combination birthday and Christmas gift - a new computer. Oh yeah, and my mother, who doesn't care much for my appearance, especially my hair, got me a book on beauty and a bunch of hairbands. So the only thing I actually got to unwrap for Christmas was basically a snide gag gift.

And now for something completely different... Naughty Gingerbread and as if that weren't enough... Happy Santa Merry Christmas, everyone!

exploding penguins

ninja pipe cleaners....yes....i need some of those...

Suzanne Vega

By the way - a little update. As soon as I got done taking Khan's picture with the tree, and making that last post, he got back under the tree and started batting at ornaments. He's now in "time out" again... That's what I get for bragging about his good behavior!

Actually, I've trained my cat, Khan, not to play with or in the tree. Khan with Tree

I finall got the tree assembled and up. It is, in fact, one of those wonderfully convenient prelit trees. So of course, I spent about two and a half days finding and replacing all the burned out bulbs, until I finally gave up and replaced an entire course of lights with a new strand. But all complaints aside, the tree is glorious: Weasel's Tree Now, I want to share with you all a little bit about how I celebrate Christmas, so you might understand how it's not exactly the sort of holiday many of you have been writing about. Our celebration begins at the appearance of the first star on Christmas Eve (or shortly after sundown, if it's too cloudy to see stars). The table is set with an extra place for the Christ Child, and I put straw or hay under the tablecloth, to remind us of Jesus's humble roots. The doors remain unlocked, both as a sign of hospitality (since no one was willing to take Joseph and Mary into their homes that night), and in rememberance of the scriptural reminder that one might be entertaining angels unawares. If anyone comes to visit that night, they are invited in, and welcomed as we would welcome Jesus himself into our home, and they are given his place at the table. I prepare a symbolic feast, of seven or twelve courses (both are biblical numbers of completion/fulfillment), all of them meatless. We don't eat meat, in reverance to the animals who shared their home with Jesus and kept him warm on the night of his birth. Fish is okay, since, as I like to explain, if Jesus had slept with the fishes on the night of his birth, we would be celebrating an altogether different holiday. The first thing we eat is the Oplatke, a blessed, unleavened (to remind us of the Passover, and the fact that Jesus was born to be our sacrifice) bread. Each person breaks the oplatke (or oplatek) with each other person, wishing them good things for the new year. Beets are generally served as part of the meal, to remind us of Christ's blood spilt for our sins. The meal is concluded with the drinking of a special spiced cordial, a culmination of the fruits and prosperity of the previous year. After the meal, we enjoy the visit from the Star Man (in previous years, my husband, but this year, I will be assuming Star Man honors). The Star Man, representing the magi and their quest for the newborn king, asks celebrants questions about His birth. If they answer the questions correctly, they are given a small gift. This all takes the form of a rather spirited version of Christmas Trivia. For the gifts, I like to either buy or make small and inexpensive gifts which very much capture the spirit of the person they are for. If there is still time before midnight mass/services, we take turns sharing talents of storytelling or dance or drama or song. This part of the evening has become much more special since my daughters have become old enough to prepare little performances.

head, shoulders, knees, and toes (knees and toes)

chain

I am a professional freeloader. Now who wants to be my new sugar daddy?

i don't know - asking me to avoid sappy love songs is a difficult request... "But now hold me like a baby that will not fall asleep. Curl me up inside you and let me feel you through the heat" Hey - at least i didn't hit you with a depressing country song, with its timeless tale of loss and love for one's truck...

I think it's called Hey Bartender, but I haven't a clue who sang it or wrote it.

It's not so much love lost...more that love is causing my very being to be stretched and twisted and crushed. It's a long story... But anyhow, again, thank you...

Thank you, gentlemen. The sailing is hideously rough right now for me, so in all seriousness, I could use all the good thoughts I can get.

depends altogether on the pusse... Anyhow, i think my favorite scent, which i would wear every day if i could replicate it, is that of fresh ginger root. I used to use a shampoo and conditioner that had that scent in it, and it lingered all day. Any time my hair swung down in my face, i breathed it in - lovely!

pillow

I love Christmas, but not really the holiday you all seem to be discussing. Anyhow, does anybody want to come over and help me assemble this damned Christmas tree?

being

Ah - thank you, Mad Jack - apparently, I need to clarify. Perhaps "love blows goats" would be a more exact expression of my feelings. "Freudian"? Not exactly what I had in mind. In fact, she looks nothing at all like my mother... God is forever more forgiving than man, and infinitely more forgiving than woman. But if you've got gin, please be a darling and share!