Time to choose next year’s calendar! Or rather “calendars”: I like one in the kitchen and one next to my computer, and then one for each of the three kid bedrooms. Plus I already bought this for next year because I loved it so much this year:

(photo from Amazon.com)

The Metropolitan Museum of Art page-a-day makes me feel like I am getting a little bit of culture every day. Also, I learned I’m not very interested in art that is a statue or a vase or a piece of cloth. I like the paintings.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Extraordinary Chickens. Every year I consider this calendar. Every year I conclude that I am something less than a year’s worth of interested in chickens.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Charley Harper. This is a strong contender this year. I had a Charley Harper calendar a few years ago and really liked it.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Dancers Among Us. This is going to be like the chickens, I think: I want to look at the pages, but not all year.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Minecraft calendar. I didn’t see this until YESTERDAY, and I immediately ordered it while children screamed excitedly in my ears, but it is temporarily out of stock and I am pre-disappointed because this seems likely to be like the fold-your-own-robots calendar of a couple of years ago, where it was out of stock and Amazon kept making me confirm I still wanted it for MONTHS until they finally emailed that it was completely unavailable. [Follow-up: after ordering the temporarily-unavailable Minecraft calendar from Amazon, I noticed another seller had it for a lower price and with the shipping it came to the same price as the Amazon one with free shipping. So I ordered THAT one and cancelled my other order. The shipping is way longer, but should still make it in time for Christmas.] [Follow-up to the follow-up: now the second one I’m linking to has changed to one that is more expensive and has Prime, so I guess the message is to compare sellers.]

(photo from Amazon.com)

Lego calendar. This is the one Henry wanted until he saw the Minecraft one.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Farmer’s Market calendar. This is the frontrunner for the kitchen this year. I came very close to ordering it last year (it went out of stock while I dithered).

(photo from Amazon.com)

Darth Vadar and Son calendar. Papa Darth reminds Luke to use the fork, threatens him with a time-out, etc.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Cow yoga calendar. Cow yoga. Cow. Yoga.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Dr. Who calendar. I was going through the check-out process with this calendar when I realized I had a logistics problem. William is the child who is most into Dr. Who (he belongs to a Dr. Who fan club, even), so he’d be the one who should get this calendar as a gift—but he shares a room with Henry, who finds Dr. Who too scary/confusing and is one of the children who was screaming in my ear about the Minecraft calendar. Well, I think I’ll order the Dr. Who one anyway and William can put it up on the wall in his bunk.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Why Grizzly Bears Should Wear Underpants calendar. The Oatmeal has a calendar this year!

(photo from Amazon.com)

Hello Kitty calendar. After years of wanting a Hello Kitty calendar, last year Elizabeth chose one that was photos of cute animals. She’s outgrowing Hello Kitty, which is upsetting. I could still buy one for next to my desk, though.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Taylor Swift calendar. I would not be surprised if this were the calendar Elizabeth wanted this year.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Legend of Zelda calendar. This is a good candidate for Rob and Edward’s room, because they both like this game. So maybe this one for them, the Minecraft one in William and Henry’s room, and the Dr. Who calendar for William’s bunk.

(photo from Amazon.com)

The Tutu Project calendar. Who DOESN’T appreciate a man in a tutu?

(photo from Amazon.com)

This is London calendar. This was a finalist last year, and I think the main reason I didn’t get it is that I couldn’t decide if I wanted London, New York, Paris, or San Francisco. I’m not sure I can decide this year, either.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Hot Guys and Baby Animals calendar. I bought Paul’s sister the book version of this for Christmas.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Mid-Century Modern Ads calendar. Oooo, strong contender.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Little Critters calendar. I had this calendar the year before last, and liked it so much I’m tempted to repeat it. The pictures are so cheerful, and I see one of them is a FOX this year. It would be a great calendar for a nursery, too. I mean if YOU have a nursery. I don’t have a nursery.

(photo from Amazon.com)

The Golden Age of Travel calendar. This was a finalist last year and might be again this year.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Valentina calendar. Some of the pictures on this calendar, I love enough to frame. But some pages have words, and I can’t tolerate an entire month of “Follow your heart” or “Forever friends.”

(photo from Amazon.com)

Wallpapers calendar. I ordered the 2013 version of this calendar impulsively last year after a particularly frustratingly dithering session, and I regretted the purchase almost immediately. It would probably be too boring. And what if it was like those dollar-section calendars we got one year from Target, where all the pages curled up? But it has turned out to be one of my favorite calendars of all time: I put it near my desk, and I greatly enjoyed it all year. None of the pages were boring, and it’s on good-quality, non-curling paper. I might have to order it again this year.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Bubble calendar. This one is not a candidate for me (I want one with spaces to write on), but I love the idea. Every day you can pop a bubble-wrap bubble! I am a little concerned that I would lose control and pop them all at once.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Papertoy Monsters calendar. This comes with a frame that has a little shelf on it, right between the top half of the calendar and the bottom half. So then you fold the little paper monster and put it on the little shelf, and the top half of the calendar is the backdrop/scene for it.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Paper Source art calendar. I really love this one—but it’s twice the price of the others, and I don’t think I like it twice as much.

(photo from Amazon.com)

The Mathematics calendar. Paul and Rob are BOTH getting this calendar for Christmas. Last year the author didn’t do a calendar, and there was weeping and wailing throughout the land. If you have a mathy/problem-solving sort of person in your life, they might love this: each day has a math problem to solve, and the answer is the number of the day (that is, the answer to December 10th’s problem is 10). How to GET to that answer, though, has Paul’s co-workers gathering in his office each day, arguing around a whiteboard.

I am also very interested to hear what calendar YOU are choosing this year.

Just a few days ago I wrote in the Swistmas Package Giveaway post that my favorite animals for decor were “foxes, squirrels, hedgehogs, and owls.” Then yesterday I was at Marshalls with my mom and look what I found:

THOSE FOUR EXACT ANIMALS. ON A SET OF FOUR LITTLE PLATES.

Furthermore, note the hedgehog’s feet: LITTLE STRIPEY TOE-SOCKIES.

I think it would be fun to do a Merry Swistmas package like we did a few years ago and then I forgot all about doing it ever again. Whoa, was that in 2008?? That is longer ago than I’d thought.

Anyway, I certainly wasn’t reminded of it as I was trying to stuff more things into the gift cupboard and being frustrated in that attempt. No. The actual inspiration is that I have a new favorite Christmas mug, and it was sold in a 2-pack so I have a spare.

It seems like there was something else as well, because I remember thinking, “Yes, but that’s two Christmas-themed things, which makes it a little disappointing if it’s someone who doesn’t Do Christmas”—oh, yes, I remember now: a copy of my favorite Christmas book, This Year It Will Be Different by Maeve Binchy. I didn’t love it the first time as much as I love it now that I re-read it every December. I can get happy-weepy just THINKING about reading it, which is PERFECT for making the Christmas lights look all diffused and pretty.

So anyway, that’s the backbone of the box, and then if I can get anything OUT of the gift cupboard I can see what the other options are. “Assorted” is the theme here. I’ll bet there’s some stationery in there, and maybe a Webkinz, and a pretty tote bag or coin purse or something. I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve been able to get in there since 2005.

The giveaway is only for U.S. mailing address (so if you don’t live in the U.S. but you have a friend/relative in the U.S., you can have the package shipped to them if you want—I can put in a little note saying it’s from you), which I realize is sad but there it is. You can, however, win it even if you don’t celebrate the same holiday as me: I’d just switch to a non-Christmas-tree/stories kind of theme, but the Assorted theme could still stand. You can enter by leaving a comment on this post before noon U.S. Pacific Time on Wednesday, December 11th, 2013. The comment can be anything, but if you’re like me and that kind of freedom makes you feel self-conscious and awkward, why don’t you tell me your favorite animal (I like cats for pets; foxes, squirrels, hedgehogs, and owls for decor), or tell me what you’d name a reindeer (I think Midge for a girl, Fisher for a boy).

Update: The winner is Caitlin of the December 4th, 12:56 p.m. comment! I’ll email you, Caitlin!

Two years in a row, I have made a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Two years in a row, it has been a flop.

Part of the problem, perhaps the MAIN problem, is that I don’t like pumpkin pie. When I LIKE something, like for example brownies, I WORK AT IT. I make that recipe again and again and again, sacrificing my own figure to make sure the recipe is truly as good as it was the last time I made it.

My heart isn’t in pumpkin pie the same way. And because I don’t like it, I don’t think, “Hm, this is okay, but what it needs is more/less _______,” or “No, this recipe is no good because ______.” I just think, “For pumpkin pie, this isn’t too bad, or “Even _I_ know this pie is no good.”

I don’t remember what I did last year, because last year I had the flu and was doing things like forcing myself to go to the kitchen and do one single step in a recipe, and then going back to the recliner to spend 10 minutes gearing up to do the next step. Maybe I hallucinated the pie, now that I think of it. Either way, it was no good.

The year before, I got one of those refrigerated pie crusts that comes folded up in a box and you have to make sure it comes to room temperature before you try to unfold it or it’ll break. I got that because that’s what my mother-in-law used, and my mother-in-law was big on making things from scratch, and she said the pie crust in a box was better than the pie crust she could make. And I had had samples of several of her pies, and they were quite fine pies. I might not in general model myself after my mother-in-law, but since Making a Pie Crust From Scratch is not an option (no, not even if it’s really easy) (no, seriously, I’m not using a rolling pin ever again) (NO MEANS NO), it seemed like a good second-best.

Then I made the filling recipe from the can of pumpkin. I figured it would be likely to be pretty good, because they want to sell you the pumpkin.

Anyway, it was awful. The crust was not good, though it seemed more like an underbaking issue, not like the crust itself was no good. The spices in the pie tasted off, and it seemed kind of goopy. I usually eat a tiny slice for tradition’s sake, and I couldn’t get through it. Paul likes pumpkin pie, and he said cautiously that it was “not inedible.”

All of this sounds like I’m working up to asking for a recipe, and if you have a recipe that works with a pre-made crust I’d be glad to hear it. But what I’m ACTUALLY asking is for reports on the decency of pumpkin pies purchased pre-made from grocery store bakeries and grocery store freezers. I was buying ice cream the other day and I saw pumpkin pies just IN THE FREEZER. But are they good? And if so, which BRAND is good? If I liked pumpkin pie, I would buy one of each ahead of time and try them all, just out of pure scientific curiosity.

Or, our grocery store has a bakery. And they make pies. The pies are just sitting there on tables, ready to buy. But are they GOOD? And can I buy a pumpkin pie the day before Thanksgiving and have it be good the next day? And I see there’s a big sign up in the bakery asking people to PLEASE make sure they order their Thanksgiving pies before November 21st, so perhaps that option is for next year anyway.

So that is what I am asking: If you have purchased a pie from a grocery store freezer or from a grocery store bakery (especially from a freezer, since it may be too late for bakery), how did it turn out? Was it yummy?

Do you remember the awful woman I’m volunteering with? First I’d like to beg you not to feel sorry for her or worry that she’s just shy or whatever. My descriptions haven’t been very detailed because I’m nervous about that (I’m going to come back later and delete a couple of my examples below), but you will have to TRUST ME that I am familiar with social awkwardness and the range of comes-across-badly-but-is-from-a-good-place human behavior, and that armed with that information and experience I am not steering you amiss. She is not at all nervous. She is not at all awkward. She is utterly, relentlessly, inappropriately confident. Picture someone you know who is incredibly bossy and self-centered, who takes no one else’s thoughts or ideas into account, who thinks everyone else is stupider than her, who thinks she knows a better way to do everything, and who has to have everything her own way or else you’re way stupider than she thought you were. THIS IS NOT SOCIAL AWKWARDNESS. She is the OPPOSITE of bumbling or shy or awkward or blurting out something that comes out the wrong way. She is the OPPOSITE of wants to fit in. She is the OPPOSITE of going home and kicking herself for saying something dumb. I DEMAND YOU REFOCUS YOUR PITY. (Mine. I want it. Give it to me.)

Okay. So do you remember what I wished for, the last time we discussed this? I’ll just go ahead and quote myself, since I have a quote-indenting button right here in front of me:

I DO wish, however, for several other parents to make subtle remarks over the next few months that let me know (without it turning into back-biting, because that feels wonderful at the time but comes with a nauseating hangover) that they don’t like her either.

I will just say this: I got my wish. One of the other volunteers said (tactfully, delicately, and only when someone else brought it up) that the woman in question has been “stirring things up” all over the school. That she went to the principal and demanded a key card like the teachers have, so that she doesn’t have to be buzzed into the school building like other parents do. [Example snipped.] That she went to the cafeteria and demanded that they get their food from a different source, one that would more than triple the cost of school lunches. [Example snipped.] That she doesn’t like the assignments her child’s teacher was giving, and asked for them to be changed, and SENT IN COPIES OF HER VERSION OF AN ASSIGNMENT FOR THE WHOLE CLASS.

Immensely satisfying, as you can imagine, and I hope we can avoid the temptation to keep discussing her when she’s not there. I’m wondering how long she (the woman) is going to keep this up, considering that so far the answer to each of her demands has been “How kind of you to take an interest, and no way in hell”?

I just finished Fin & Lady, by Cathleen Schine. I don’t know if I’m recommending it to you, or if I’m just telling you about it.

(photo from Amazon.com)

I enjoyed reading it, but I was very conscious of Reading a Book. One main character (named, improbably, Lady) is a Perfectly Cool Girl; it was hard for me to accept her as real. She’s just sooooooo pretty and witty and always says the right thing and everyone loves her.

Lady is the guardian of her half-brother Fin, who has recently lost both parents. While reading about how this arrangement worked out, I thought:

1. Either this author does not have children, OR

2. She does have children, and her children are fundamentally different from my children, OR

3. She does have children and her children are of the same species as mine, but she is nevertheless as susceptible as any Hollywood screenwriter to the Cute ‘n’ Convenient Child Character: a child who fits into a single woman’s life like a witty, fulfilling, adorable handbag

Fin is the kind of child who would be played by an older version of that kid with glasses in Jerry Maguire: he’d come into a room, listen intelligently and appreciatively to an adult’s witticisms and wisdom, feel tremendously grateful for all that adult has done for him, make an adorable or thoughtful or wise-beyond-his-years remark, and then leave the room for seriously DAYS without needing anything from the adult.

I didn’t feel this way while reading the book, exactly: I too enjoy the fantasy of the Surprise Left-to-Me-in-a-Will Child Who Works Out GREAT Because I Am So Extremely Awesome. But I did keep realizing I was reading that kind of fantasy. It didn’t feel to me that this is how things would actually go. So I guess that’s what I’m saying: it’s a good fantasy, the way an romance novel that ends with the deliriously happy wedding is a good fantasy. I thought it was a good STORY, and I ENJOYED reading it, but I didn’t believe it. It would make a good movie.

Right before that, I read The Valley of Amazement, by Amy Tan.

(photo from Amazon.com)

Any complaints I have about this book are my own damn fault: if I don’t know perfectly well by now that Amy Tan books make me want to leap off a cliff and hope to fall as fast as possible, then I don’t know how to end this sentence. But I DID read it, and I DID end up feeling like there was no point in the continuation of the human species.

And, simultaneously, I thought, “What? This makes no sense.” For example, a woman has her child TAKEN from her. And then she thinks, “Welp, guess I’d better find a job.” She has powerful friends, but she doesn’t use them to help her get the child or anything. What is going ON? It’s a hundred years ago and in another country, but was there seriously NOTHING she could do about it? And if not, we’re back to opening our arms eagerly for the rapidly-approaching rocks below, so really there’s no right answer here. Either life really is that terrible, in which case it’s the cliff and/or no more reading Amy Tan books; or else it isn’t, in which case no more reading Amy Tan books.