the real deal about making money online

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cash

 

Howdy, I know it’s been about seven million eight hundred days since I wrote but I’ve had a major brain block and lots of stuff going on that I may or may not be writing about in the future.  I’ve got two–yeah, two–books in the works.  One is a collection of short stories and one is a cook book of sorts.  I’m working my little brain off on those two projects, but in all that meantime I have while staring at my gorgeous new Mac I’ve discovered some ways to supplement my income and I want to share it because Heather over at My Husband Ate All My Ice Cream shared it with me–she’s got a whole page dedicated just to sites that can be moneymakers for sitting at the computer.  I’m once of those crazy people who believes that we should share the wealth to have wealth because there is enough to go around despite what negative Nancys might have you thinking.

Anyway, in my online adventures I have discovered a few tips and tricks for navigating what can be an exhausting and sometimes confusing way to make a few bucks.

Some things you should know:

It’s about your time and opinions. 99% of these sites are survey sites that offer rewards.  Sometimes you take surveys, sometimes you sign up for a free newsletter, and sometimes you watch a video.  There’s even a site where you take little quizzes about what you watched on TV last night.  It’s a lot of form filling out and question answering.  Decide how much time a day you want to dedicate and don’t go over that.  You’ll go bonkers.

It’s not just about money.  There are sites that do in fact cut you a check.  It’s great.  I love it.  But it takes time and commitment and it’s tedious as crap.  There are more sites however that pay in gift cards, coupons, and free samples.  Not stupid gift cards, but Wal-Mart and Amazon and Whole Foods.  To me this is worth just as much as cash because it costs me time but I can still buy my groceries or gas or Christmas gifts with these cards.  The samples and coupons come in handy too if you use coupons, which I am just starting to realize comes in very handy.

You should be prepared.  I suggest getting a dedicated e-mail account just for your online efforts.  I was expecting to get a ton of junk mail too but I haven’t received a single piece.  Your phone will ring too–I wish I would have gotten a burner phone number but I didn’t so my phone rings pretty much constantly.  I ignore it.

You’re about to go down the rabbit hole.  With every click of your mouse you will open a new page with a new offer and a new promise of vacations and diamond watches and free stuff.  My recommendation is to do what you have to do to qualify for your rewards or cash and get out.  Don’t believe the hype and don’t do any offer that sounds too good to be true.  It is.  Trust me.  Also, I don’t participate in any paid offers but I’ll get to that in a minute.

How I get organized:

I keep a dedicated notebook where I record each time I do a survey for points or money, and each time I give my e-mail address.  The reason is because I don’t want to waste time.  The more I do this the more lucrative it becomes–I made over $100.00 last week for literally filling out forms and answering questions.  I keep a record because some of the offers are repetitive and will pay multiple times and some won’t, and some will let you sign up multiple times and some won’t and I don’t want to waste the time on something that won’t pay.  I’ve picked out my favorite sites and I’m going to share what I’ve learned so far.

CASH SITES: sites that pay in money

CashCrate:  You’ve probably heard of this site.  It’s my favorite because they have a low pay out minimum, meaning how much you have to earn before they cut you a check, ($20.00) and they are super easy to navigate.  The surveys you are eligible for are listed and when you submit and offer it disappears.  If you aren’t eligible for one it won’t have a submit button.  Also, if the offer requires a purchase it is marked so you can avoid it.  Read the instructions carefully.  I’ve missed a few payments because I didn’t do the required action.  It may seem like it’s slow going but most take about a minute to complete and you just watch the money add up.

InBox Pays:  InBox is almost exactly like CashCrate except that it isn’t as organized and has a higher payout amount ($30.00).  It contains the same surveys for the same amount of money in most cases, and the best news is that with most of them you can get paid for doing both on both sites.  Why not earn twice?  Most the time its a matter of signing up for coupons or newsletters that are going to a dedicated e-mail anyway so just do it–it’s free money.

Send Earnings: Send Earnings follows the lead of the first two but has an even bigger payout amount ($50.00).  The good thing about Send Earnings is that they pay with PayPal instead of a check so you get paid faster when you submit for payment.  Again, it has many of the same surveys which means triple the money.

I recommend signing up for all three and for the first few days spending at least 20 minutes on each site familiarizing yourself with how it works and the layouts.  It’s worth it, trust me.

REWARD SITES: sites that reward with gift cards and coupons

GiftHulk: this is one that I found out through Heather.  You accumulate points and redeem them for gift cards.  It is super easy to rack up points and it has many, many more offers than the cash sites.  It’s also very easy to use.

Plink: With Plink you earn points for specific purchases and get reward cards.  You go to Plink and pick an offer, like $10.00 at 7-11 then use the credit or debit card you link from your Plink account (you don’t give them your card information, your bank does it with your permission) and you earn points when you make your purchase.  You make purchases anyway, might as well get rewarded for it.

There are lots of sites out there formatted like this one, but these are the most simple ones I’ve found so far.  Remember, keep a notebook and read the fine print.  Many of the research and survey sites promise cash and rewards but they really just let you earn points that you use to enter sweepstakes.  I stay away from dealing with them directly.  I just give them my e-mail when they pay through one of the above sites.  Send me questions if you have any, and good luck!

I Yam Who I Yam

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Sooooo, The Pluck Procrastinator tagged me in this Who Are You business and I usually take about six months to accept these things but I felt like I should do it even if it’s just to actually write a most for the first time in over a month.

Here you have it, Fireandrabbits Big Information Extravaganza!

1.  WHERE WERE YOU BORN?  Midland, Texas.  Err.  Nope, I got nothin’.

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE?  HHHAHAAHAHAHA…..oooohhhhhh….hehehehehe.  Yes.  I was named after a movie called Cassandra’s Crossing that my mom watched while she was pregnant with me.  It was about a train with a disease infestation and a bridge collapse.  Yup.

3. IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN, HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE?  I have no babies.  I have dogs.

4. HOW MANY PETS DO YOU HAVE?  I have two dogs.  One is my step-dog Hobo.  If you remember my posts about Willie Nelson, he’s living in Baird with Jenn and Dutter because he’s extremely attached to Dustin and I didn’t have the heart to steal that damn dog from yet another boy.  The other dog is Jack.  Y’all know about him.  He’s fat now.  Hobo lets him eat his food.  And yes, you needed to know that.

5. YOUR WORST INJURY?  I have never broken a bone or had any really horrible injuries.  I’m pretty chicken and a very safe driver.  I can’t even think of a bad injury.  Except maybe that time I was in middle school and everything hurt all the time.

6. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?  Not really.  I have a freakishly good memory for random stuff, like obscure actors and movie dialogue.

7. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE THING TO BAKE?  Yes.

8. FAVORITE FAST FOOD?  Oh, lawt, I love me some Subway.  At one point there may have been a Subway that I frequented so much that the Sandwich Artist did not have to ask what I wanted.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?  Heck yes.

10. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?   Hair color, then height.  I don’t know why but if I ever had to be a witness in a crime, I’d be like, “yeah, officer, the person was blonde and 5’8″.  Male or Female?  No idea.”
11. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?  Ahem.  I cried in the bathroom last night after pretending to check my contact because my boyfriend did an incredibly selfless and kind thing (which he does a lot but this one was a doozy) and he did it just because he loves me and it made me squishy.

12. ANY CURRENT WORRIES?  Yes.  I have a serious case of writer’s block.  Like career ending.  My old computer contains hundreds of pages that I did not back up and I feel like my own characters are haunting me.  I have actually been praying lately for a computer miracle because no one has been able to recover anything from it.  I need divine intervention on this.  I’m also worried about money, and some stuff at home, and I want to know why my lips won’t get un-chapped and I would also like to lose about sixty more pounds.  By tomorrow.
13. NAME 3 DRINKS YOU DRINK REGULARLY.  Coffee, Wine, Whiskey…I drink water too.  Sure I do.

14. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE BOOK?  The Little Prince. Everyone needs this book.  It makes your heart feel better.
15. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A PIRATE?  No.  Who came up with this question?

16. FAVORITE SMELLS?  I like hippie smells like sandalwood, patchouli, vanilla, orange, etc.  I also like this cologne called Issey Miyake for men.  It’s….gulp.  Can’t talk about it here.
17. WHY DO YOU BLOG?  I blog because I’m a writer and this is another medium I use.

18. WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT PLAYED AT YOUR FUNERAL?  I don’t give a crap.  I won’t be here anymore.

19. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?  I wish I was thin.  Period.  Everything else I can deal with.  I just want to be thin.
20. FAVORITE HOBBY?  Baking

21. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A FRIEND?  Sense of humor and loyalty.

22. NAME SOMETHING YOU’VE DONE THAT YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D DO.  Turn 30.   Be well.

23. FAVORITE FUN THINGS TO DO?  THIS IS THE SAME AS HOBBIES.  WHO THE FUCK WROTE THESE QUESTIONS?  No, for real, I love road trips with my friends, I love cooking with my man, I love hanging out with the dogs, and I love spending time with my perfect nephew.

24. ANY PET PEEVES?  When my boyfriend ashes in the sink or leaves a cigarette butt in the toilet.  ICKY.

25. WHAT’S THE LAST THING THAT MADE YOU LAUGH? The dogs.  They make me laugh all the time.

 

the poop bathroom 2.0

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On February 16, Frambf and I will have been dating for a year.  I’ve chosen to completely ignore the almost four months we were broken up because…I can.  I knew when I met him that I was in deep, deep doo-doo.

I wasn’t really prepared for what that meant.

Let me re-hash this for you: I’m 33 and have never lived with anyone I’ve been in a relationship with.  Until now.  Mostly.  It’s been…interesting.  On the one hand, I love the routine of it.  I love seeing him when he gets home and kissing him goodbye for work and being all domestic and crap.  I’m a Donna Reed type so laundry and cooking and cleaning sort of put me right in my element.   Marriage isn’t on the table maybe ever so this is my life until I’m old and wrinkly.   But I love it.   Love it.

Except for the poop bathroom.

The Poop Bathroom, in all it's glory. Ashes, bird poop, an abundance of toilet paper...

The Poop Bathroom, in all it’s glory. Ashes, bird poop, an abundance of toilet paper…

The poop bathroom is a bathroom in the back bedroom that I did not know existed until about six months into our relationship.  I just noticed upon occasion that the males of the house would disappear for a while.  Come to find out, there is a bathroom that has been designated, due to it’s window, for the dropping off of kids at the pool.

It was also for some reason nominated for any and all bizarre crap that comes into the house, like the time Frambf’s son rescued a bird from a storm then put it in the poop bathroom to dry off, which is obviously a huge domestic concern.  I mean, I feel really bad for families that don’t have a poop bathroom to put wet birds in…sad.  Now, I know that most of you see this division of bathrooms as a total asset, but it’s not a his/her situation.  It’s a his/his and her situation.  I do not enter the poop bathroom except to dry my hair because the other bathroom doesn’t have an outlet that works with my hair-dryer. He, however, does all his business except for ‘that’ in the other bathroom.  Oh, the teeny hairs.  Oh, the bathtub with oil field dirt.  (You don’t know from dirt until you live with a man who works on an oil rig.  I imagine it only rivaled by coal miner’s).  Oh, the indiscriminate use of towels…

I had a Mexican stand off for a long time with this bathroom.  It’s the one room in the house that I didn’t clean regularly.  But I broke down yesterday.  I couldn’t stand it any longer.  The poop bathroom was haunting me.  So I finally cleaned it, and almost poisoned myself in the process.

I almost died for this poop bathroom.

I almost died for this poop bathroom.

I’ll spare you all the details of the process, but I will say that mixing bleach, vinegar, and Tilex is actually quite deadly.  So naturally I did it.  I had a few minutes where I couldn’t catch my breath so luckily I made use of that window.  I get why the boys like it.  I wore gloves, used a bucket and sponge, and pulled a Cinderella and actually hands and knees cleaned the floor and walls.  That bathroom is so clean now I actually used it this morning.

For peeing.  Not for…er…sorry.

she’s a maniac

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Bi-polar disorder is identified from major depression by a glaring characteristic: mania.

Ask anyone with bi-polar about their mania and they will get a happy, dopey, lovey-dovey look on their face like suddenly they’ve been astrally projected to a Bahamian beach.

There’s no way to describe it to anyone who hasn’t experienced it.  First though, I need to make some definitions and distinctions:

There are levels of bi-polar that are mostly defined by how long their depression cycle lasts and the severity of their manic cycle.  I have Bi-Polar II which means I cycle slowly (sometimes over years), my depressions last longer than my manias, and my manic cycles are not what are considered severe.  Those with Bi-Polar I have shorter depression cycles and their mania is intense—like paranoia, hallucinations, insomnia, delusions, etc.  I’ve been hospitalized with people who are bi-polar I and the differences are jarring.  When someone is in a frantic mania they are almost unreachable.  They might think they are Jesus or want to scratch all the paint off the walls, or sit in a bathtub for two days or pull out their eyebrows.  My mania can have those symptoms too—I once put towels over my windows and slept in my bathtub because I became paranoid about ghosts in my house and I was convinced ants were crawling out of the walls.  My grandmother had to come stay with me for months until I finally had to be hospitalized.

Some of my milder manic symptoms (and these are super common, like enough to if you know someone who exhibits this behavior it’s worth a thought) are:

-Overspending

-Obsessions with trends, bands, foods, hobbies that are fleeting

-Speaking quickly to the point where I can’t be understood, or, jumping from topic to topic in conversation without meaning

-Insomnia, as in, the really not sleeping kind.  For days.

-Weight loss

-Fearlessness

-Adrenaline seeking—ever driven a car into someone’s yard? Yeah.

Now, why in the world would I love my manic cycles?  Sometimes things I do in a mania can royally screw up my life.  For example in the past (my mania was worse in my twenties) I was more apt to be sexually indiscriminate, try a drug, or break some laws.  That’s really personal for me to admit, but these are truly part of the symptoms of mania.  On the other hand, I’m the best worker anyone can hire when I’m manic.  I have energy to spare, my brain is clear and full of ideas, my writing is unbelievable—go back to my posts during manic times, usually February to about May or June and you can see a huge difference—and I don’t know the meaning of a bad day.  It’s like waking up every morning with a million dollars under my pillow.   Mania is intoxicating and allows me to do things in a few months that I may not be able to accomplish throughout the year.

Even as I am now, happy and medicated, I can feel my brain starting to wake up from it’s mild stupor of the depression cycle.  I’m starting to feel like ‘me’ again.  I recognized myself in the mirror.  I care more about what I’m doing.  I’m not stuck in that rabbit hole of depression that so limits my vision.

I’m approaching the time of year when my mania comes back and the depression subsides and frankly I’m relieved.  My mania is as much a part of me as my depression and…I need it.  I don’t know what it is like to not have it.  It doesn’t mean that I don’t have to take care of myself—most bi-polar patients are more likely to get off their meds in manias because they feel better but that’s the way you end up dead—but it does mean that I get to harness some of this creative energy for good.

There are two things I say about bi-polar and they are both due to the experience of manic periods: With bi-polar you only feel sick when you’re well, and it’s a dark, dark gift.  That’s really the only way for me to look at it.

tattoo series session one: the artist

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Today I finally started on a goal that I’ve had for over a decade.  I know it sounds weird to call a sleeve tattoo a goal but when you are focused on something for that long it counts.

Right?

The reason it’s taken me so long is because I knew that I wanted a full sleeve, but I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t know who I wanted to do the work.  I was waiting for that big idea–something original and just me, something that eschewed current trend and I would be proud to rock for the rest of my life.

I honestly don’t have any idea how I came up with the design.  I just decided on a theme that I loved and hopped on the internet to get examples.  Next I had to find an artist, and that’s whenI found Travis.  Thanks, Google.

I cannot stress this enough: if you want a tattoo, especially one that is meaningful, custom, or one that is permanent, (heh, heh, see what I did there?) find an artist that is a tattooer, not someone who is just a tattooer.  As in, not someone who cranks out flash tatts all day (the artwork on the boards-butterflies and barbed wire).  I needed someone who I could talk to and give my ideas to and trust to create with me.  It’s a team effort.  Of course, Travis did most the work.

Travis values the consult.  I went and talked to him and gave him my ideas, and he came up with something that blew me away.  Of course due to basic life happenings, we weren’t able to start the tattoo until today, almost a year later.  I’m getting a full sleeve which is an extensive and detailed piece.  It was very important to me that I find an artist that I had a symbiotic relationship with.  Tattooing is very intimate.  Not just in the sense that they stick their heads close to your armpit and you might end up feeling like you’re playing Twister while they’re tattooing you, but in the sense that they are wounding your skin to add ink.  They draw blood and in a way add their energy to yours, permanently.  For the rest of my life, Travis’ energy–his mood, his workflow, his talent, his dedication, even his caffeine intake–will be a part of the artwork on my arm.  Wait to find an artist that you click with, and never work with someone who intimidates you or makes you nervous.

I went for my first session today; it is the first of many.  Today we talked more about the design and the best way to execute it, and he did all the outlining.  I will break down the process for you later, but let’s just say that we both had a long day, mostly because of the set-up that won’t have to be done again.  The whole day I felt like a kid in a candy store.  I am so unbelievably happy with the artwork and the artist and that is exactly how I should feel before starting this process.

Now my arm is sore, but it’s worth it!  I have a whole month to wait until he starts on the next phase of the piece and luckily with the holidays it will be a quick month.  In the coming months I”ll be doing a Friday series on tattooing, from what to expect and what to run from, to all those cliches, to the history and styles, so watch the tattoo tab on the home page or subscribe by e-mail so you can be the first to know if I end up crying or fainting or something.

Also, if you want to check out Travis’ work or just internet stalk him, his website is here.

6 good reasons for men to lie

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Yeah, you read that right.  Just last night my mom and I were talking on the phone and we both agreed that if women really knew–I mean REALLY knew what men thought on a day-to-day, hour-t0-hour, minute-to-minute basis it would shatter our worlds.  There is a reason that mind reading is just a myth.

The only reason we were talking about this at all is because Frambf, just like most men I know, is one of those men that subscribes to the ‘better to ask forgiveness than ask permission’ philosophy.  The men that stick to this are usually ones that have an overabundance of charm.  Damn them.  And he’s just so good looking.  Trust, me, I’m weak and it helps.

So the conclusion I’ve come to is that there are occasions when technically, it’s okay for them to lie.  In fact, in some cases, it’s probably better that they lie.

 

Reason #1: They genuinely do not understand what is going on. This happens between me and the bf at least sixty times a day. I talk constantly, he listens infrequently but makes all the right noises, and then inevitably either agrees to something he didn’t mean to, or answers a question that I have basically filled in the blank for him that has no truth to it whatsoever.

Example: “I left your comforter in the dryer.  Did you get it out?”

 “Uh-huh.”

 Two days later upon finding comforter in dryer: “Has this been in here the whole time or did you wash it again?”

“Uh-huh”.

 

 

Reason #2: They are trying to save your feelings.  Every smart man on Earth cut his teeth on this kind of lie. My guy is getting better at this, but he doesn’t have it quite nailed yet. He’s trying, though.

Example: Last week I made cinnamon rolls, something I’ve done plenty of times and do quite well, but I used some yeast that must have been expired because the dough didn’t rise. They tasted good, but not as good as usual. I handed him one straight out of the oven and basically glared at him while he ate it. “It’s good.”

Chew chew chew. Me, glaring. I did that questioning raise thing with my eyebrows.

“What?” More eyebrow questioning. “Have I ever failed to tell you if your cooking sucked?”

Good point.

 

 

Reason #3:  They value their balls.  Has a man ever said something to you that was so clueless and borderline mean that you saw red and instinctively started looking for sharp objects? No? It must be nice where you live. I’m specifically thinking of any time you’ve been legitimately angry about something and the response you get is, “Are you on your period?” The smart ones are learning to trim down the responses and just make sure we know they heard us.

Example: I’ve been working my butt off at the gym to loose weight. I told the man that I was working hard and to be patient. “I used to be really beautiful. I’ll be beautiful again.”

He just shrugged and said, “You are beautiful”.

 

Reason #4:   It’s not any of your business. Let’s face it, girls. There are things we don’t need to know. Like, ever.  From boy talk to what goes on during the day at work, there are things we are much better off not knowing.

Example: Last week they found a rattlesnake on the lease they were working at.  I was half listening to Frambf and Scott talk about it, then I heard, “picked it up and milked it.”  No, babe.  I don’t need to know that you’re effing MILKING RATTLESNAKES AT WORK.  Upon my little freak out he grinned like a bastard and said, “Fine, I wasn’t milking rattlesnakes at work.”

 

Reason #5:  It’s more important to you than it is to them. There are things that men just don’t care about.

Example: While Christmas shopping on Saturday for his nieces I saw some really cute lamps and said as much to J. “Honey, aren’t these cute?” The half shrug wide-eyed scared puppy look was as close to a yes and I was going to get in that situation. I knew that his real response was to say something like “I would rather cut all my fingers off and set fire to my PlayStation than stand within 30 feet of that lamp,” but he recognized that keeping his mouth shut was a better idea. And those lamps were freaking adorable.

Reason #6. It’s a child.  Kids are curious, curious creatures, but they don’t need to know everything. They haven’t earned it. They way I see it, if a man tells a lie to a child it’s probably because they don’t need to know, say, what the lyrics to Cream are about.

In conclusion (didn’t that sound so official and sophisticated?), there are some perfectly good reasons for men to lie to us.  The best part is that we usually know they’re doing it but I still appreciate that they recognize when it’s appropriate and act accordingly.  But the biggest lie ever told?  ”I’m sorry.”  What they mean is, “I’m sorry I got caught,” or “I’m sorry you’re upset,” not “I’m sorry I just _______ “.

crithmus

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“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving. Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We’re all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We’re gonna press on, and we’re gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny bleeping Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he’s gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse. “–Clark W. Griswold, Jr.

 

And so begins the season of baking, family, fuzzy sweaters, warm candle smells, gift buying, travel plans, and decorating.

Oh, the decorating.

My mom is an artist.  Like, a real one.  I’ve done my share of illustrating, but my mother blows my talent out of the water in terms of sheer ability.  She’s one of those artists that can render a drawing from a photo and you can’t tell the difference.  If you didn’t grow up with an uber-creative parent like I did, you might not understand exactly what I’m talking about so let me catch you up.

I don’t remember a house we lived in in the last ten years that didn’t have colored walls.  Blue, purple, red, whatever, our homes have always been super bright and cheery.  We were also allowed to do lots of things that fed our creativity.  When we were kids we didn’t watch television which is amazing since there were five of us.  We played with clay my mom would make, or painted, or colored, or collected stuff for art projects, or made collages, or helped ‘cook’.  (I made green spaghetti once.  Hey, the dye was just sitting there.)  We could decorate our rooms how we wanted as long as long as it was appropriate-I had fire engine red walls and one wall that I could write on when I was in high school.  We could dress how we wanted (it was the nineties, no need to worry about our hineys hanging out of shorts) and I colored (sometimes pink and purple) and cut my hair constantly.  All five of us are very different from one another and we were encouraged to embrace that.

Having a creative parent is incredibly cool, trust me.

Our family is also a Christmas family.  My grandmother and mother always decorate the house the week after Thanksgiving and the tree and lights go up immediately.  It’s pretty awesome.  I know this because there have been years I’ve missed it and it wasn’t the same.  My mom and Nana bust out the decorations (carefully stored and packed) and an immediate warmth settles over the house.  Last night Mom and I had some wine while we unpacked decorations and started filling the shelves and table tops and I realized those boxes hold over 50 years of memories for my mom and 30+ for me. There are ornaments that were my great-grandmothers, trinkets from when my brother and I were babies, all our sent home ornaments from elementary school that she’s lovingly kept over the years, and ornaments I’ve unpacked over and over again.  They still give me that feeling.  Warmth. Peace.  A little mourning for those we’ve lost.  A sense of belonging.

My grandmother acts as our family historian.  She writes the dates on the bottom of the decorations and my mother has started doing this too so every time we unpack something we automatically flip it over.  I grab my memories and try to figure out what I was doing…1992, I was still in high school, trying to navigate that horrible time where being an adult seems so far away.  1999, the ornament I sent home from California where I moved when I was 19 to have an adventure, and by Christmas I was home and back in the safety of my family.  1984, the year my brother was born and I thought he was the most amazing wonderful thing I’d ever seen.  1986, when my mother married my Dad, and he adopted us and we got our last name.  Then 1991, when my grandfather died and left a horrible hole in all of us.

My brother and I like to tease my Mom about the decorations–it looks like a Santa refuge in the family room–but really these little trinkets are markers of our lives.  They remind us of what it means to be a family and what we’ve accomplished.  We aren’t the children anymore.  Now it’s my nephews playing in the yard and us in the kitchen and sitting at the adult table.

I don’t know if my mother or grandmother will ever understand the magical place they’ve made the world for us at Christmas time.  But that is exactly what they did.  It’s not about the decorations or lights or trees–it’s about the traditions and joy and honor they give the time they spend with our family.

This year I’m adding a menorah to the home because I found out that I am of Jewish decent.  I’m starting my own family traditions within the existing ones.  I only hope that I can bring half the magic to the holidays that the women before me have.

I hope that you all have warm beds and safe places and strong arms to protect you in this holiday season.   And may your dessert table be plentiful.