Skip to main content

Not That Anyone Will Listen

It's that gift-giving whether you like it or not time of year again, so here are:

Ten Things I Don't Want for Christmas

Booze: We don't drink, and have not for the last thirty years. I do not provide alcohol for guests or allow them to bring it into my house. I don't regift unwanted booze. I have one half-bottle of white cooking wine that I use to make Bistec de Palomilla (Cuban steak with onions), by the way, and I'm not going to let you drink that, either.

Candy: Did you know there is no cure for diabetes, and that I still have it? Yep. I'm also back on the meds to control my blood sugar. Please notice these things.

Cookbooks: I own about fifty now, including all the really good ones for diabetics and vegans. I've also run out of space on the cooking bookcase, to which some of my sewing stuff has migrated. It's also not a very subtle hint. If you want me to feed you, just ask, but don't passively-aggressively whine about my average cooking skills.

Diamond Painting Kit: I have too many mean things to say about diamond painting, which is like paint-by-number but with tiny bits of plastic. It was a trend, I tried it once, and never again. Tell you what, when they start putting actual diamonds in the kits, then get me one.

Dog-decorated Things: Yes, I love dogs (and all animals, as it happens.) The puppies have added greatly to my daily happiness. That said, I have never liked wearing clothing decorated with the images of any type of pet. Plain, solid-color clothes are my idea of a fashion statement. So step away from the Sheltie socks, please.

Hair Salon Gift Card: The last time I got my hair cut in a salon the lady kept touching my hands, my shoulders, my face and then wanted to put makeup on me (probably to sell me some.) I don't wear make up and I seriously hate being touched by strangers. So now my guy cuts my hair, and (unless it's good in Hawaii) I have no one else I can give the card to anymore.

Latchhook Anything: I made one small art rug about twenty years ago, which cured me of ever ever ever wanting to pick up a latchhook again. I've never done something as tedious (except maybe Diamond Painting.) Please just buy me a storebought rug if you think I need one.

Scented Candles: These days my short term memory is a bit blippy. One time I actually left the house to run errands with one still lit in the guest bathroom. I like them, but I really can't be trusted with them anymore.

Slippers: I have duck feet, so most of them end up squashing my toes. I prefer socks, and I own a million pairs, so no socks, either.

Yarn: I have picked up crocheting again in hopes of keeping somewhat limber the three fingers on my right hand that still work. Yet I still have enough yarn to keep me busy until they stop working altogether, thanks.

Comments

Maria Zannini said…
I was sorry to hear you're back on the meds. Greg's diabetes is not behaving either. I think he cheats too often being the holidays. More bread than usual, the extra potato servings. That sort of thing.

re: gifts
I cannot abide anything scented. Like my hearing, my sense of smell is acute. Even a pleasant smell can give me a raging headache if it's too strong.

I had to laugh about the socks. I love comical socks. People think I'm crazy when I ask for socks for Christmas, but I'm totally serious.

Popular posts from this blog

Downsizing

This was my fabric stash once I sorted everything -- 22 full bins. I spent a day taking out and boxing up what I could part with, with the goal of trying to reduce it by half, so I'd have 11 bins. I was very strict with myself, and removed everything that for one reason or another I was sure I wouldn't be able to use. This is what I ended up with -- 12 bins of fabric that I'm keeping. It's not quite half, but close enough. Half of what I took out went to a local quilter friend, a school and Goodwill. These four tightly-packed bins will be going to the local quilting guild once I make arrangements with them for a drop-off place. I am relieved and a little sad and now determined to control my impulses to thrift more fabric. I don't want to do this again, so until I use up six bins, I can't for any reason bring any new fabric into the house.

In Progress

I promised myself I would show you the good, bad and ugly of my cleaning this year. This is what it looks like when you dump thirty years' worth of stashed fabric on the floor -- and oy, what a pain in the butt to pick up again! This is what it looks like after it's been sorted, folded and placed in containers, which took me about a week. Now the hard part is to downsize my stash by at least half, I think (that's my goal, anyway.) I've already e-mailed the president of the local quilting guild, a local friend who is a quilter, and a public school art teacher I know to see if I can donate some of the excess to them. The rest will go to Goodwill. Already I've reduced my vintage textiles from two bins to one, and my scraps from three bins to one. It's probably the hardest clean-out I've done, which is why I saved it until last. I know I have too much fabric, more than I can use in my lifetime -- but at the same time, I love it. So I have to

Other Stashes

Along with clearing out the spare bedroom and tidying my office and our guest bedroom, I decided to reorganize some of my stashes. This is all the yarn I have on hand, sorted by color. It looks like a lot, but lately I've been using up a minimum of half a bin every month, so this is approximately a year's supply. All of my solid color cotton perle thread. I go through a lot of this every year, too. I need a container in which I can fit all of it together, but I haven't found the right one yet. I won't show you all of my fabric -- I'm still reorganizing this stash -- but I went through everything and donated two bins of fabric I won't need to the local quilter's guild.