Tag Archives: music

Have Yourself a Merry Post-Christmas Let Down

Look, bloggers get post-Christmas let downs, too. Today I can only offer a little more Christmas Carol commentary. I hope you find it amusing.

Regarding “Do You Hear What I Hear?”: If I would have been the little lamb, the second verse would have gone, “Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy, ‘Hey, the wind is talking to me.'” Then the third verse could have gone, “Said the shepherd boy to the Hollywood agent, ‘I have a talking sheep.'”

I realize neither of those lines is in the rhythm of the original tune, but you know how singers interpret things (I actually hate it when they do that, but hell, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em).

One other thing: What if I don’t WANT to have myself a Merry Little Christmas? What if I want to have myself a Merry Big Fat Christmas? What are you going to sing to me then?

I have no other silly observations to make, so I will finish by sharing a Christmas Carol memory.

One Christmas many years ago, my husband Steve and I as well as my sister Diane and her husband, Chris, were staying at my parents’ house. To complete the picture, I’ll just mention that at this point my parents’ house only boasted one bathroom.

Christmas morning I was up before anybody else and got into the shower. I thought since everybody was still asleep, I could get away with taking a long shower. I sang Christmas carols in the shower. In retrospect, I don’t know how I thought anybody could sleep through that, but I do love to sing Christmas carols. Indeed, other people were up when I emerged from the shower squeaky clean.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “If I had known you were awake, I would have taken a shorter shower.”

My sister Diane retorted, “You would have taken a shorter shower if you didn’t have to sing every verse!”

It’s still five days away, but my New Year’s Resolution is to have more Mohawk Valley adventures, so I don’t have to make such silly blog posts all the time. Hope your own post-Christmas let down is mild.

Of Lime and Grime

So about halfway through cleaning my bathroom and feeling awfully grumpy about it, I said to myself, “That’s it! I’m doing a post about cleaning!” Immediately my chore took on a new interest, as I thought of things I could write later.

For example, I thought, the Lime Away does not seem to be actually taking away the lime. Then I realized it was not Lime Away but something called The Works, and I am not clear on which is lime and which is grime. (Isn’t that a crime?) (I just love to rhyme) (OK! I’ll stop! Sheesh!)

Then I got into a wrestling match with the disinfecting wipes. They are supposed to pop so handily out of the dispenser. I daresay the name brand does, but I am not at all sure of that (perhaps a head to head comparison for a future blog post?). Ah, it was the end of the bunch. No wonder.

My bathroom wasn’t really that bad, although I confess I do not give it a weekly cleaning as I used to do. Back in the last century, when Steven and I both had nine to five (or thereabouts) jobs, we used to clean the apartment every Saturday. We’d put on our album of Pippin (yes, album; I did say it was the last century, didn’t I?) and be done before the grand finale.

I haven’t thought about that in years. Today as I scrubbed and huffed (um, that’s huffed as in, “Humph! I have to clean the bathroom!” not huffed as in that substance abuse thing I’ve heard certain young people are into) (Or is that old news? Well, so am I old), I wondered if some music would help. Steven was hard at work in the kitchen downstairs, though, so we would have had to blast the music for us both to enjoy it. That may have perturbed the dog.

Cleaning did not take us an onerous amount of time. And writing a blog post about it was the opposite of onerous. Now Steven is in the shower (I hope he doesn’t mess it up), and soon we will embark on this weekend’s Mohawk Valley adventures. Stay tuned!