Take the week off

It's been twelve days since I've posted on here, but I figured that fit right in with the season: twelfth month of the year, twelve days of Christmas. You see where I'm going here.

Now you might be thinking I've simply been too lazy to think of anything worthwhile to write about, but that's not it at all.

Actually I was out shopping for your gift, you know, that thing you told me you wanted way back in summer.

Im not saying that to make you feel bad for thinking I was lazy (but you do don't you? Ha, it worked!)

At any rate it certainly wasn't because I was busy working. In fact, almost everyone who works at an agency wasn't busy working. Every year, the Christmas spirit takes over agencies right after Thanksgiving, kicks in to high gear at Christmas parties in early December and reaches its peak the Friday before Christmas.

That's because while bonuses, flying first class, five-star hotels and expensing lunch has become mostly a thing of the past, one perk of agency life that's still around is the extra paid week off between Christmas and New Year's.

I'd like to report that it's out of the goodness of their hearts these multi-conglomerate global holding companies decide to give employees the week off. But it's more the fact that all the clients are gone for the holidays, nothing gets done or approved anyway and management wants the week off for themselves.

Still - and freelancers appreciate this more than most - a paid week off is a good thing no matter what the reason.

So, while I've had a self-imposed twelve days off from posting already, most likely I'll be giving myself this coming week off in solidarity with my on-staff comrades. In that time, I hope to write down the ideas as they occur, and have plenty of new posts ready for you in the coming year.

Have yourself a Merry Christmas, and a safe and sane New Year.

See you on the other side.

Where she's from

No snarky commentary, pithy insights, agency-slamming editorials or self-indulgent rants today. Nope, just a poem written by the most beautiful, smartest, funniest, most caring, lovliest daughter who's obviously picked up her good looks from her proud dad.

It's times like this I have the feeling I may have done something right.

Where I'm from

I am from pink woobies and hot chocolate
Early morning volleyball tournaments
And late night concerts
I am from grandma and grandpa spoiling me
And my brother always fighting with me

I am from Wendy sharing her crazy stories
And her house that is full of loud animals
I am from beautiful German shepherds
And big Herman Leopards
And family that's always there for me

I am from friends who care
And leaders that share
I am from a tree with heart shaped leaves
And roses that never forget to bloom
I am from a vegetable garden that is full of color and some things as big as balloons

I am from "Go to your room!" and "Great job!"
Making monkey bread on special days
And having yummy challah bread on Hanukah in honor of my dad
I am from sleeping in too late and waking up with God's blessings
And keeping all my blankets close to me
And staying strong with my faith

I am from memories that I keep
The ones that are in a box under my bed
On scrapbook pages
And in my head
I am from memories I will never forget

Grandma got screwed

And now for an update on the patient.

You'll remember back in October I published this post talking about how my mother-in-law had fallen on our top step, broken her arm and was about to have surgery. Well, a lot's happened since that post.

For starters, as you can see by her x-ray, grandma got screwed good and hard four times right after her fall. Given her age and the position she was in, it was exactly what she needed.

Yeah, I'm making sexual innuendos at the expense of an 85-year old woman. Deal with it.

At her recent doctor visit, he was very pleased at her progress. Her arm had regained more movement than he would've expected from someone her age so soon.

She's also lost more than twelve pounds since she's been staying with us because she's eating much better thanks to my wife's cooking and not munching on all the chocolate she has lying around her house.

I don't know what the hell my excuse is.

Where she used to walk up our driveway so she didn't have to climb four steps, she, well, she still walks up the driveway. Except when I'm with her I make her walk the steps. She's a bit set in her ways and severely exercise resistant. Going up the steps is good for her. And of course, making an 85 year old woman work harder is just one of life's great joys.

My living room couch is her bed, and she has everything she needs pretty much within arm's reach - the good arm. And while I can't parade around half-dressed as I'm prone to do, I can still watch the flat-screen late into the night because Grandma drifts off fairly early and her hearing isn't what it used to be.

She'll have her driving privileges back soon, and then I imagine she'll be moving back to her house which she visits once a week after church to pick up a bag full of an obscene amount of junk mail I can only hope for the sake of our forests not all seniors are getting.(Yes, that sentence had 54 words - let's see you do it.)

Every once in awhile Grandma complains about the unfamiliar ache in her arm. Having had a steel plate and five screws in my arm from an auto accident years ago, I completely understand the feeling. It's a unique kind of pain, only made worse when the weather gets chilly or it rains. But it does have its benefits. I used to love setting off the metal detector at the airport. In a pre-9/11 world it was a lot of fun.

Anyway, I make a point of cutting off her complaining at the pass, because it doesn't help us or her in the long run. Instead, what I do is remind her she's not the first person to have a broken arm and she won't be the last (although this is the first broken bone she's ever had).

What I should do is tell her about the great racehorse Barbaro, and the 27 screws he had to endure. And then tell her in that gentle, compassionate, caring way anyone who knows me knows I have, the four little words that would make it all better.

You got off easy.