Out with the Negative---Bring on the Holiday Cheer

Yes, yes, I know that last post was pretty harsh---as stated way back in the beginning, this blog is my therapy. My way to say things I can't scream out loud. Living with an aging mother-in-law has been one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, that includes guiding two kids through all the temptations and trials to get them to adulthood. Men can be husbands, or sons, but being both under the same roof is a momentous challenge, if not damned near impossible. I wonder if the reverse for a woman is true, balancing being a wife and a daughter under the same roof with an aging father? Regardless, being the in-law in the mix is not fun, at least it isn't for me and my mother-in-law. C'est la vie. We all do what we have to do. The burden is heaviest on my husband and for that I am sorry.
I live in Austin for days like today. November and GORGEOUS. I hate the heat of the summer, every other time of year, I love it. I always say I live in Texas for the winters, not the summers.
I'm going to adjust my attitude to embrace the positive upcoming events and let the other crap stay in the background.
Bring on the Holiday Cheer, the whirlwind is about to start. Let's see, first item that may or may not occur: It sure would be nice to send out some Christmas cards shortly after Thanksgiving, since I haven't managed to do it for the last couple of years. And I have my mother to blame for making me feel like I need to write a short, personal note in just about every card. Not to dare send out a mass produced letter, but personalize each card with a short synopsis for the relatives and friends who haven't heard from me in a while. The channeling of Martha Stewart begins---if only I had a staff!

Dear Mother-in-Law

I know your son, my husband, doesn't think you are capable of this level of scheming, but you don't fool me for a minute. You are old, but you are incredible ailment-free for an 84 woman. And longevity is a family-trait, lucky you!
You could be SO much more independent, you could give a damn and exercise you body and mind. But you want to be needy and have your son do everything for you, you want him to believe that you can't even warm a dinner up for yourself.
We went away for a weekend, leaving more food than you could have eaten in a week in the refrigerator, but you choose not to touch any of it. I had to throw it all out. You barely ate, and than were too weak to get out of your bed for 2 weeks, needing to be waited on hand and foot by your son to get your strength back up.
I know why you're doing this----you know the time is nearing when we're moving out and you are scheming to make your son feel too guilty for that to happen. I wouldn't have known that you were aware of us planning our moving, but you tipped you hand, you talked to my sister-in-law.
This is what I want to say to you and have it really sink in...Why are you so selfish and inconsiderate of letting your son live the best life he can? Why are you trying to ensure that he has to take care of you in the last 15-20 years he has good health and mobility? If you had your way, he'd be your sole caretaker until your gone, that's a good 15 years or more from now---you don't even have hypertension or high cholesterol!. Fifteen years from now, he's going to be 67 years old, do you think he'll be able to finally do all the traveling he and I have always dreamed of doing now that the kids are grown? Was your husband capable of doing much of anything when he was 67? No, his health was declining. But since your husband had retired at 50, you two did have 15 years of going on great trips and doing just what you wanted. And, even though we can't retire, you are going to rob us of the 15-20 years we could be living life as a couple again. Do things we couldn't do because we had a baby within our first year of marriage. I've waited 30 years to have this time with my husband, and you are trying your damnedest to rob me of it.
Go ahead and play you mind games. He's my husband, before he's your son, in the long-run. You have definitely taught me what not to do to my own children. You should be ashamed of yourself.

With lost respect,
Your daughter-in-law

Holiday Ramp Up

It's starting! Can you feel it? Holidaze Anxiety! This is the time of year that my Marfa Stewart really comes out. I start thinking about the Thanksgiving dinner menu I'm going to make, how the table will be perfectly set and flower arrangements will be tastefully accenting the clean, decorated house. How after Thanksgiving, I'll start the baking for holiday gift-giving and cookie-exchanging. Hand-cut, hand decorated Gingerbread Men (yes I really do manage to do that on the occasional odd year, just like my mother did every year). Hand-strung popcorn and cranberry garland for the tree and perfectly wrapped and elaborately decorate packages piled all around the tree that has a Christmas village and train going underneath it. My mind gets in a whirl with a picture perfect holiday, influenced by every magazine cover and recipe I see.

Than the time starts to fly by, I don't get the house cleaning done, I run out of time to bake, I don't get silver polished, I have to throw myself into the holiday crowds to get the shopping done, I get the tree decorated about 10pm Christmas Eve and finish wrapping the presents about 3am the next morning.

One by one, things get edited off the list. Baked gifts---get real! Garland---just a waste of good cranberries and popcorn! Nagging and resenting the husband and kids---I might have time to do something if they got off their asses and helped with the Christmas Village or the Nutcraker displays. The only thing my husband decides to do is make a batch of his family's traditional Christmas tea, to spike and drink during the season. Of course the kitchen is a sticky mess after his foray into it. The Christmas Village just becomes a place the cat likes to sleep, looking like Catzilla among lit houses and the tipped over ice skaters and horse drawn carriage, and he makes the 'white snow' (white felt cloth under the whole picturesque village scene) look like a coal fired plant is nearby.

I end up going near crazy trying to get a few of my goals down, have at least one major breakdown and scream at everyone (which I'm sure causes a couple of the gifts I was going to get be tossed) and slide into Christmas as a frumpy, frazzled mess.

Don't you just love the holiday season? I really, really do!

And I bake. Which brings me to the question: Does anyone like fondant???? Seriously, just because it makes a nice palette to decorate doesn't mean it should be used. It is a pity to ruin a good cake with a fondant crust, everyone I know peels it off and then you're just left with a piece of cake with hardly any frosting, if you're lucky. I only did the poker cake because of a cake decorating class. True talent, unlike all the hacks on Food Network, should decorate on a buttercream base, so the cake is edible, which is the whole reason to bake a cake, right???? mmmmmmmmmmm, frosting...mmmmmmmmmm.

I crochet too. Tas' Baby Blanket:

Here is one of my crafts----Handmade, hand mosaiced Butterfly Houses. Wish I had all the time in the world to work on these, but working a forty hour week doesn't afford much time to do them. I've created about 10 and sold everyone I have ever made, even got commissioned to make 3 for Christmas gifts. They're about 3 feet tall, the back opens, and they're handmade from start to finish.

Why Marfa Stewart?

I was born and raised in west Texas. West Texas is a strange, microcosm. Desolate, isolated, five hours away from anything different or interesting. You can see to the end of the horizon with no trees or hills obstructing the view (if you can call flat, brown, sandy and mesquite-filled a view). I'll share more on West Texas in the future. I've probably said enough for the die-hard west Texans----there are two kinds, ones who can't wait to leave it and ones who can't imagine living anywhere else. Guess which category I fall into?

Back to 'why Marfa Stewart'? Marfa is a neat little town in west Texas, not where I'm from, but the name is synonymous with west Texas. You are a true blue Texan when you're from west Texas, that you can't help and you even find pride in it, for surviving it if for no other reason.

Martha Stewart is the epitome of the perfect hostess, cook, decorator, gardener and all things domestic. I can't stand her...but yet I want to be a perfect hostess, cook, decorator, gardener and domestic professional, just like her. But I always seem to miss the mark by just a smidgen--or more. (Those of you who are as old as me will hear Don Adams voice from Get Smart saying, 'missed it by this much'.) I attribute this to my west Texas origins. Martha Stewart with a west Texas twist---hence, Marfa Stewart.

This blog will be my therapy. How I deal with my short-comings, frustrations and missing the mark of picture-perfect domestic bliss. I'll be surprised if anyone but myself finds any interest in these random musings and confessions. But I am doing it for my own sanity and survival.