Vixen Chronicles

This past week, I challenged myself to not slip into any pair of jeans. Instead, I was going to explore the side of my closet that holds all the dresses and skirts. As it turns out, I have a lot, and I only seem to wear them to church or when I am going out to somewhere other than work. Since I keep telling myself that if I haven’t worn it in a year it has to go, it makes no sense to have a bunch of things that are about to turn into closet-pumpkins. Rather than throw them out, I’d decided to attempt to wear them, and hence reset their termination clock. While contemplating what shoes went with my skirt, for some reason, I remembered my fourth grade teacher. She ‘d worn dresses every day, or at least, a sort of dress. I can’t remember her name at all, or the details of her face, but what I do remember is that she’d worn a saree every day of the school year. Her sarees were beautiful. And flowy. They were flowy and flowery in the winter, when other people were wrapped ...

My kids sent letters to Santa. Yes, I said letters, as in more than one. This is something we started at any early age. Since I am The catalog queen, I give them catalogs and let them go at it. We generally do this in several iterations. On the first pass, then go through and check or circle the things that they want. Of course the five year old circles everything, and then I give them the crushing news. They can only pick five things, and there is no guarantee that they will get all or any of those five things. You see, Santa has to make some decisions to make sure there is enough to go around, and which items Santa chooses of course depends on if she thinks they will be any fun for her or not. The youngest cries and whines at this news, still not understanding why she can’t possibly have everything that she wants. The Oldest, she says nothing. She is teetering on the cusp of understanding the real deal. Mommy is really Santa Clause and if you piss Mommy off, you get lumps of coal in ...