Hat Scribbled, Mail Complaints, Elizabeth Edwards

I was getting very upset while I was drawing the hat I choose to put on most in the winter and my drawing shows it; it ended up being a scribble of colored pencil and crayons. I was listening to The Talk. The ladies had just started to discuss John Edwards being at his wife's side, as he should be, during her last days, when the program was interrupted by the President. I'm sick of politics. I'd much rather have heard about Elizabeth's condition.** I'm so sorry she's lost her battle. She was such a fighter. I was rooting for her to recover and give that trick hell. I'll give the hat another, less violent go later. It's got the same rugged character as the big deal snow boots and probably isn't a quicky.

Meanwhile the last of my holiday cards walked out of the house this morning. I managed to update my list thanks to my friend in Ziwa who tipped me off on Zabasearch and also told me to forget about her. The city's mail service consisting of four burros and a guy with a stick probably wouldn't get it to them before February.

Our mail service isn't doing real well either. Honey found our mail in our neighbor's box and his in another box further down. Seems the mail gal lost a house somewhere along the way and ended up not having any mail to leave in the last box on the block.

Then my son called to say he'd gotten one grandchild's gift, but not the other's. That wasn't good. That meant that Hanukkah would arrive from Nana and Pop around Christmas, which is not okay with me. Honey and I have a reputation to uphold. So the new check is in next day mail. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Tonight is the last night of this unimportant, but very important Jewish holiday for children. I'm going to make a big deal of it. I'm going to light up all three of our Menorahs and end the holiday with a small bonfire for just Honey and me. Cleaning candle wax drenched Menorahs and bitching about it is a holiday tradition I don't want to miss.

**When I wrote the first paragraph of this post, I didn't know Elizabeth had passed away in the morning. The family had kept the news under wraps till the children got home from school. I heard it from Diane Sawyer while fixing dinner. I got very upset. She had breast cancer for six years--got better--then worse. That's frightening to me. I cried. Selfish I know, but... --And Honey got mad, (he's always been the sensitive type). Told me we don't know her case. He's right of course. There are many different types of breast cancer with different survival statistics. Ladies, forty and over, please get your mammograms yearly or if you feel any significant changes insist upon one. You don't want to be in this club.

A word about Mice: I know my friend in Sarasota is sick of seeing that painting in progress, but art is not knocked out in twenty minutes--sometimes it takes a full hour and a half to make a masterpiece. This hat's for you kid.