(image from Amazon.com)

Chalk It Up. I dislike inspirational sayings. I very much DO like warped inspirational sayings. “If at first you don’t succeed…skydiving is not for you.” “The early bird gets the worm…but the second mouse gets the cheese.”

(image from Amazon.com)

Color Your Year. Coloring books for grown-ups are everywhere. This is the calendar version. I like that you can FORCE it to match your kitchen. It appeals to me to think of having a can of colored pencils near the calendar, and coloring it a bit at a time, maybe as a family effort.

(image from Amazon.com)

Faerie Houses. Uber-twee!

(image from Amazon.com)

Chihuly. Blown-glass sculptures. But the cover image is by far my favorite one.

(image from Amazon.com)

Charley Harper. I enjoyed the Charley Harper calendar I had a number of years ago, and this one looks so colorful it tempts me to repeat. I appreciate the deer-butt on the cover.

(image from Amazon.com)

Lotta Jansdotter. It was down to this or 1950s Patterns last year for the calendar next to my computer, and I went with the latter. Maybe this year is Lotta’s turn.

(image from Amazon.com)

Kilty Pleasures. Perhaps someone on your list is a big fan of Jamie Fraser of the Outlander series and would like to…explore that subject further.

(image from Amazon.com)

Roald Dahl. Ohhhhh, I’m so tempted. I was very taken with Quentin Blake’s illustrations as a child, and still am. (You can see pictures of the back here.) [Update: sadly now sold out on Amazon. But the second link still has it in stock, if you don’t mind ordering from the UK.]

(image from Amazon.com)

Cats in Hats. I bought Elizabeth the Cats in Sweaters calendar last year, and it was a big success. This seems like a good sequel. I’m hoping for Cats in Pants in 2017.

(image from Amazon.com)

Super Mario Bros. In my cart for one of the kids’ rooms.

(image from Amazon.com)

Peanuts. This taps right into some strong childhood nostalgia.

(image from Amazon.com)

Little Golden Books. Speaking of childhood nostalgia.

(image from Amazon.com)

Pusheen the Cat. We had a Pusheen calendar for our kitchen last year. Normally I would be very disinclined to repeat the same type of calendar two years in a row, but it was fun having a calendar all seven of us liked.

(image from Amazon.com)

The New Yorker Covers. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride: every year it’s a finalist, but I’ve never bought one.

(image from Amazon.com)

Shepard Fairey. I like the look of this. I think what will take it off my list is that there are some months I really don’t like the picture for.

(image from Amazon.com)

Bike Art. My parents have gotten into biking this year. If they still used a wall calendar, this would be a good gift idea for them.

(image from Amazon.com)

Birds in Art. What I like about this is you’d get an assortment of styles: not just Sibley birds, not just Audubon birds, but a mix of a lot of different artists.

(image from Amazon.com)

See America! I love the style, I love the pictures, but I don’t like that they squished down the calendar grid to make the pictures bigger. I need space, SPACE!

(image from Amazon.com)

Every Day’s a Holiday. I think the children would enjoy this, but that I would get weary of the children enjoying it.

(image from Amazon.com)

Farmer’s Market. I had this one a couple of years ago, and it was one of my very favorite kitchen calendars. Paul bought me a couple of prints by the same artist for my birthday.

(image from Amazon.com)

Downton Abbey. I have just recently started watching this show, and I love it so much.

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Masha D’yans. I’ve had this one as a finalist for several years—and it sells out before I can order. This year I am going to try to make up my mind earlier.

(image from Amazon.com)

Rube Goldberg Inventions. In my cart, probably for one of the kids’ rooms, or maybe for the kitchen since that’s a good place to stand around and look carefully at something while Mother is trying to cook.

(image from Amazon.com)

Animal Portraits. So fancy.

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The Little World of Liz Climo. I am so charmed by this, I nearly bought it on the spot, mid-post. Fortunately I noticed in time that this is the kind of calendar that has no place to write. I do use a calendar for art, but USEFUL art: I can check the date on my phone, but I want a place on the kitchen wall to write the doctor appointments.

(image from Amazon.com)

Dr. Who. In my cart as a candidate for one of the children’s rooms.

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SuperGraphic. In the cart for the kids or Paul.

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Crap Taxidermy. It’s funny to think that some of us will know JUST the person to give this to.

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Mathematics. I get this for Paul every single year. He uses it as an office calendar, and he and his officemates stand around the whiteboard trying to figure out each day’s problem.

(image from Amazon.com)

Vintage Patent Blueprints. I think one of my two older boys would really like this. It doesn’t have space to write appointments, but they only use calendars as wall art. I am finding too many candidates for their calendars this year.

(image from Amazon.com)

Forest Feast. This makes me think of Catherine Newman and how she and her kids have been doing some fun foraging. No top picture, though: it’s a half-size wall calendar.

(image from Amazon.com)

Beer Labels. It pleases me to think how much my late mother-in-law would have hated this.

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This is Paris. I suspect a lot of us are feeling more sentimental about Paris than usual this year.

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Kitchen Happiness. I LOVE THIS ONE. Strong finalist for my kitchen.

(image from Amazon.com)

Things Come Apart. One of the older boys had this one last year, and it was a very satisfying one.

(image from Amazon.com)

Floral X-ray. Strong finalist.

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The Writers’ House. I love this concept: pictures of authors’ houses.

(image from Amazon.com)

William Morris. I have a mug in the pattern on this calendar’s cover, so it was startling to see it!

(image from Amazon.com)

Flying Mouse. I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at.

(image from Amazon.com)

Wassily Kandinsky. I like Kandinsky, but I am not sure I want a whole year of Kandinsky.

(image from Amazon.com)

The Book Lover’s Calendar. I don’t generally like The Classics, so this is not the calendar for me. But it immediately grabs my attention as the right calendar for MANY, MANY PEOPLE. I love that the cover shows all twelve books that will be featured.

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Those are the 2016 calendar candidates! And as usual, I hope you will tell me what calendar you are choosing for the upcoming year, if you ARE choosing a calendar.

Paul’s workplace: “We need to know EVERYTHING about EVERY family member! Social Security numbers! Birth dates! Employers! All income sources! Web site addresses! Email addresses! Stock holdings! Extended family members! EVERY SINGLE PERSONAL DETAIL! And we need it updated annually AT LEAST, for the protection of EVERYONE!”

Paul’s workplace: “Oops, we got hacked. Again. All your private information is public. Again.”

Paul’s workplace: “FOR EVERYONE’S PROTECTION, we need everyone to update private information again. Is your teenager working part-time at the grocery store? WE NEED THAT INFORMATION. FOR YOUR SAFETY. Provide it or we regret that we can no longer consider you an employee.”

Paul’s workplace: “You are not going to believe this. It’s funny, really. Ooooo, but do we have a treat for YOU: free credit checks for a YEAR!! A whole year!”

It is time to choose the winners for the Jacquie Lawson Advent Calendar! Here are the nine winners:

Robin (2015/12/03 at 11:12 pm)
Melissa (2015/12/03 at 4:43 pm)
Devany (2015/12/03 at 10:46 pm)
Doing My Best (2015/12/03 at 9:32 pm)
StephLove (2015/12/03 at 9:35 pm)
Diane (2015/12/03 at 7:59 pm)
Kim S. (2015/12/03 at 5:37 pm)
VirginiaMom (2015/12/03 at 3:17 pm)
Lisa (2015/12/03 at 3:28 pm)

I had the calendars sent to the email addresses used in the comments. Let me know if yours didn’t come through.

But wait! Because Super Grover emailed me:

OK, this calendar is *awesome.*

I was going to enter the contest, but when I saw how many people were excited, I decided that I’d just take the plunge and get it for myself.

Then, I realized *I* could indulge my inner bargain-hunter and take advantage of the cheapo pricing, too.

So! Here are 10 activation codes for other people to use, so you can make the contest bigger!

So here are the ten additional winners:

melissa (2015/12/03 at 3:25 pm)
Lydia (2015/12/04 at 9:52 am)
Nikki B. (2015/12/03 at 5:17 pm)
Stephanie M (2015/12/03 at 4:11 pm)
Mkhernan (2015/12/04 at 12:34 am)
elly (2015/12/03 at 7:57 pm)
Monique S. (2015/12/04 at 2:06 am)
Kalendi (2015/12/03 at 6:22 pm)
Carrie (2015/12/03 at 10:51 pm)
Wendy (2015/12/03 at 7:49 pm)

Those calendars have been sent as well, to the email addresses used for commenting; the listed sender will be Super Grover. Again, let me know if yours didn’t come through.

This was fun! Thank you, Super Grover!

I have a Christmas thing to recommend. My aunt sent us one of these a few years ago, and now we buy our own each year. It’s an Advent calendar for the computer—though I believe it would be more precisely called a “countdown to Christmas” calendar, since it’s for December 1-25 rather than a period of time including the four Sundays preceding Christmas. ANYWAY. It has turned out to be the funnest thing, and I love it, and the kids love it.

It costs four dollars, which was a hurdle for me at first, I’m not sure why. Actually, I think I know why: it’s because paying for something online means giving information and money online, and I feel squirrelly about that with any new company. If I could have bought a computer disc for $4 at the store, I wouldn’t have even hesitated.

I haven’t even told you really what this IS yet. First of all, it is a cute snow globe that sits in the corner of your computer screen, looking like so:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

When you click on it, as you will do at least once a day, you’ll get this little menu:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

If you choose “Enter Scene,” your whole computer screen will be filled with this picture:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

See all the numbers scattered around? You can click on each number on or after its day: i.e., on the 3rd, you can click the number 3, and you can also still go to 1 and 2. Some days, clicking a number will take you to a short animation with music. For example, on Day 1 this year, there was a band gathering to play a Christmas song. Some days, you’ll instead go to an activity or game. For example, on Day 2, we got to DECORATE STAINED GLASS WINDOWS:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

We were all FIGHTING to take turns to do this. There are also Christmas trees to decorate:

(art shown is by jacquielawson.com)

Again, lots of fighting about whose turn it is to decorate a tree. (I have to wait until they go to bed or school to get a turn.) There are three trees to decorate (and re-decorate: you can do it again and again, AND WE DO), and one of them (the one most recently decorated, Elizabeth says) [Update: she is wrong, it’s the one you drag the “Display” sign to], shows up IN THE SCENE ITSELF after you decorate it! The stained glass windows also appear in the scene! It is so fun. And then when you’re done playing you choose “Shrink Scene” at the bottom of the page, and it all disappears back into the little snow globe.

Although one countdown-to-Christmas calendar is $4, if you buy ten or more of them they’re only $2 each. I find this kind of deal difficult to resist, so I’ve bought ten of them. One is for me, and I will give the other nine to you. Leave a comment SOON if you want to be entered in the drawing: we’re already on Day 3! Probably this evening I will choose nine people, if I have the time; otherwise, tomorrow morning. [Update: definitely not tonight! Tomorrow!] The calendar is sent by email (you then go to the site from your link and download the calendar), so it can be to you in time for Day 4!

I am feeling sad and discouraged and stressed today, because the doctor called with the results of Edward’s most recent bloodwork, and there were good things and bad things, and it all basically means we have to try new things: new medicines, new dosages, more bloodwork in a month. His doctor is so good at explaining things, and I feel good about his ideas and his reasons, but it is still stressful and worrisome. I especially hate reading the potential side effects list of a new medication.

Also, you will not believe this, but the lab (the one that made us go back three times for one set of tests) called yesterday and said they’d neglected to do one of the tests. And fortunately I called the doctor to let him know, because one of the nurses there looked it up and said “…No, we have all the results right here.” So the lab was going to have us come back and redo a test that HAD IN FACT BEEN DONE, and then our insurance would not have covered the duplicate, unnecessary test. So an additional source of stress right now is figuring out what to do about that, because I don’t want to use this lab anymore.

Option A is to drive two hours down to the horrible big city every time Edward needs bloodwork; that’s where we have it done when we’re there anyway for an appointment with his specialist. Upside: they do it right every single time; they always have the right kits; they are part of the same hospital as Edward’s doctor, so the lab/doctor communication is superb. Downside: driving into a city, among drivers who, when I’m scared or can’t figure things out, think I’m being a princess or an idiot or both, and that honking at me will communicate to me the correct way to get through the intersection THEY are familiar with and therefore find easy. Additional downside: every time we take that trip, a part of me honestly believes we will die. I’m not overstating this for comic effect. Additional downside: it takes more than half a day to do it this way, and it has to be during the school day. I’m trying hard to minimize the amount of school Edward misses.

A suboption for Option A is to take a shuttle that would drop us off half a mile from the hospital. Upside: someone else does the driving; fear of death significantly reduced. Downsides: the additional scheduling hassle; the fear of doing something new when I don’t know how it works; walking with a child in the city, when I basically broadcast Town Mouse from every pore; increased fear of getting mugged; same problems with taking half a day and missing school.

Option B is to go to a different lab, the one connected with our pediatrician. Our insurance company says the one we’ve been going to is the only reasonably local lab they will cover. However, when they told me that the only place we could get x-rays done was two hours away in the city, I decided to pay cash and take William to the place in our town. AND THE INSURANCE DID COVER IT, AFTER SAYING THEY DIDN’T EVEN RECOGNIZE THE EXISTENCE OF THAT PLACE. (And it’s not just that I’m misunderstanding, because the place has signs up all over the walls saying patients with our insurance may not be covered; and once when I went there for something for myself, it created an enormous insurance tangle involving backdated referrals for services I didn’t even get.) So I could just take Edward to that lab (same place as the x-ray place) and risk it. Downside: one of the tests is very, very, very expensive. Like, even AFTER insurance we pay $250 of it. So if insurance WOULDN’T cover this lab, we’d be in trouble. However, we don’t get the super-expensive test every time, so Option B may work for the times when we don’t need that test.

Option C is sort of the same as Option B, but involves trying a DIFFERENT different lab. I’ve heard people talking about Quest Labs as being the place their insurance covers. There’s one of those near us. We could try that one. I looked on THEIR website and THEY say they take our insurance. Downside: maybe they’ll be just as bad as the other lab we’ve been going to. Upside: they could hardly be WORSE. And they’re a shorter drive, and now I know the kit needs to be ordered, and that I should go Monday-Thursday, and so forth.

Well, I’m agitated. I think I’ll go into the kitchen and start making things with pumpkin and cinnamon and cranberries. It always makes me feel cheery to imagine so many of us in our kitchens at the same time, working with such similar ingredients.

Paul and I are not getting along very well recently, though I hope a recent conversation will help improve things. One of the main issues, for me, is that he’s giving me the “Well, did you make sure it’s plugged in?” tech-support type answer to EVERYTHING I SAY. It’s as if his working assumption is that I’m really stupid, and that I would mention a problem to him before giving it even a moment’s consideration. We have been together for over 20 years, and he already knows that my IQ is a couple of points higher than his, so I don’t know where this is coming from but I sure don’t like it.

He is also doing that thing, that really aggravating thing where I bring up an issue I’ve thought of or an idea I’ve had, and he says “Yeah, I thought of that.” Oh really. You thought of that. Isn’t it interesting how you didn’t mention it before. Isn’t it interesting that I somehow NEVER HAVE A SINGLE THOUGHT OR IDEA that you have not already had. It’s incredible, really. Literally incredible.

I don’t want to call any of this “mansplaining,” because that term is funny but it makes me feel not-right, and because I’ve dealt with so many women who do this. A former boss comes to mind, one who would say, “Oh, it’s so CUTE the way you guys can never figure out the paper towel dispenser! Ha ha!”—when we’d already told her it wasn’t that we couldn’t figure it out, it was that we had reasons not to use it that way. A former co-volunteer comes to mind: on her first day, she tried to explain to me how things worked, when I’d been there over a year. And various commenters in various comments sections come to mind; I know for a fact I’ve accidentally done it myself in other people’s comments sections, when I have a GREAT IDEA that of course they would have thought of themselves in the first ten seconds of considering the issue.

I’d thought that if I responded patiently but with some irritation each time, he would work things out for himself: he would think, “Hm, every time she calls my tech support line, it turns out she has already tried ALL of the first ten things we’re supposed to start with, so maybe I should assume NEXT time that I don’t need to start with those.” I’d tried spelling it out: “No, I’m bringing it up because I’ve tried all the easy fixes and none of them worked.” I tried making light of it: “Oh, you already thought of that? Too bad you didn’t mention it, then, because now I get the credit!” I tried impatient irritation: “Pfff, PLEASE. YES, of COURSE I thought of that, and also I made sure it was plugged in and turned on!”

But no: it has continued. He’ll even interrupt me when I’m listing what I’ve already tried, to suggest one of the things I was about to tell him I’d already tried. So yesterday I had to say, right after he’d done it yet again, that he was doing that a lot lately, and it was making me feel as if his working assumption was that I was really stupid. He acted not only chastened but surprised and affectionate (“Oh! Swistle, no!”), so there is some slim hope that I am only yoked to an oblivious idiot and not to an incurable pinehole.

It’s possible that this is just a dumb habit he’s fallen into, and that he can correct it by realizing it. My fear is that this is because HIS areas of smartness are the ones that Look Really Smart, such as physics and math and chemistry and logic puzzles, and that my lower ability/interest in those areas have led him to consider himself much smarter than me. When he is NOT. It’s just that he doesn’t consider HIS areas of low ability (people, relationships, writing, etiquette, unspoken communication, implications, anxiety about hypothetical situations) to be areas of smartness. I don’t want to have to keep REMINDING him that I’m smart in other ways, because then it’s like it’s just an act he’s keeping up for my sake: “Yes, dear, you are smart TOO, in your OWN way! Why, I would never have known how to get the laundry so sparkling white!” I want him to really BELIEVE it and KNOW it. But I am feeling some despair, because it seems like after twenty years he ought to know already.

Have I already talked about Last Tango in Halifax? (Netflix link) My mind is so scattered these days. I carry a little notepad with me in my scrubs pocket when I’m at work, because I know if a client says she wants a salad with ranch dressing with her dinner, and then before I leave the room she has me help find her glasses, that by the time I get to the kitchen I won’t remember which dressing she wanted with the salad. The pocket notebook has been so successful, I’ve been keeping an eye out for cargo pants so I can carry a notebook with me always. Or maybe I should wear only scrubs tops now. Or perhaps it’s time to consider the fanny pack.

Good thing I wrote Last Tango in the paragraph above, or I would have forgotten what I was here to tell you about. You know, that is the solid advantage of written communication: so much easier to keep track. I could, for example, just go to my archives and LOOK UP if I’ve already discussed this show. But, eh. Languid hand movement.

Anyway, I love the show. I love it so much. I don’t want to oversell it, because that is just the worst way to start watching or reading anything: assuming it’s going to be amazing. But OH I LOVE IT. I do appreciate and enjoy the storyline with the couple in their seventies, but my favorite is the storylines with WOMEN IN THEIR FORTIES. People are attracted to them! They have relationships! They fall in love! They deal with their teenage children! This is just what I was looking for.

I’ve finished the available episodes, so I’m about 5 seconds into Downton Abbey, which I’ve been meaning to watch. My appetite for BBC shows is so WHETTED by Last Tango. I’m going around thinking (not saying) words such as owt, nowt, summat, lad, arse.

This post is for people who play Candy Crush. You know how periodically they have special events where if you create a crazy number of color bombs (50, 150, 300), you get rewarded with a bunch of the special pieces such as lollipop hammers and so forth? If you also play the night levels with that silly owl who can’t even trouble himself to tip a wing for his own balance, level 202 is GREAT for creating color bombs, because there are nineteen of them on the board to begin with, and they count the same as if you’d lined up the pieces and actually created them. I play the level over and over, and it’s no trouble getting up to even 300 color bombs. MAD PRIZES.

To everyone else: I’m sorry this makes no sense.

I will just say this: that when we drove half an hour back to the lab that made me cry to try again to get Edward’s blood drawn, they said oh, sorry, this test can only be done Monday-Thursday. We were there on a Saturday. They knew the last time we were there what test we needed done, and they didn’t mention that it could only be done on certain days. There would be no way we would know that without being told, or even know to ASK if it could only be done on certain days. I am starting to feel as if they are punking us.

BUT. We went back again on a Monday-Thursday, and although he threw up (the technician was trying to be nice, but she kept TALKING to him what was happening, and it made him focus on it), the blood ended up in the tubes. I am half waiting to find out that oops, they forgot to send it off and it needs to be drawn again, or oops, they mailed it without the cooling pack and it needs to be drawn again.

This is the only lab our insurance will cover in our area, which makes me hate our insurance company.

We have a creepy sky going on right now. If I look to the right, it’s a gorgeous bright blue with white fluffy lamb-clouds. If I look to the left, the clouds are so thick and dark they look dirty, like they’re full of ash. I tried to take some photos, but they completely failed to capture the WHAT DOES THIS BODE?? quality.

I am starting to think about Christmas stockings. Last year I kind of blew it: I kept thinking it was too early to think about it, and then suddenly it was too late, and I basically filled them with candy and snacks. That would have been MY dream stocking as a child, but the children were surprisingly keen on the one or two non-candy things I DID put in, such as new gloves. So THIS year I’m putting in some things I would have bought for them anyway as they needed them, just in regular shopping trips:

* new gloves again
* new winter hats/earmuffs
* new socks (but more fun than plain white)
* new crayons/markers
* more stuff as I think of it

For example, one child complained he couldn’t find a protractor, so he and Paul and another child are all getting protractors in their stockings. Basically, anything a child needs/mentions between now and Christmas is going to be put in a stocking. My mom remarked that this makes for expensive stockings, but it actually makes for CHEAP stockings, since it’s going to be a lot of stuff I would have bought ANYWAY. I won’t go so far as to give them cold medicine and paper towels, but this older-kid stage has been harder than the days when I could fill stockings with clearance party favors and small board books and new bath toys.

I’m also preparing the children that this year I’m planning a repeat of the “one book gift, one clothing gift, two gifts’ worth of things you want” system. (I like the catchy “Something you want/need/wear/read” poem, but have trouble putting it into practice exactly as recited.) It was gratifying how excited they were last year about new clothes when they knew to EXPECT new clothes as a gift. That is, opening new shirts when you were hoping for a video game = sad. Opening Minecraft shirts when you were expecting boring shirts = AWESOME.