Bleck Friday and Snider Monday

This opens with a disclaimer and a (short) rant warning.

I have nothing against Christmas/Yule/Kwanzaa/Hannukah/Festivus, or any winter holiday you celebrate.

The lights? The over-the-top decor? Love ’em. Tacky or sophisticated, bring it on. The incessant carols trying to force some joy between the cracks of a fractured society? It’s all good. (Though thankfully I no longer work in radio, where the Christmas-song deluge washes your soul away every year. Pretty sure that’s what happened to Dangerspouse.) The pretty and sometimes mawkish greeting cards? I cherish every one I get. The ugly Christmas sweaters? Not for me, not in our climate – but if they work for you, go for it!

If your thing is cheesy Hallmark movies where a successful business person walks away from a decent-paying job for true love and starvation wages (or chronic unemployment!) in the remotest mud puddle of the Appalachians? Enjoy. I have no quarrel with you. I lived real-life starvation wages and have no desire to relive it, but I don’t begrudge you. My preferences run more to dragons and/or spaceships. I still enjoy the occasional bodice-ripper and other types of romantic fantasy, though.

But so help me God, if I see even one more Black Friday, Cyber Monday, or Whatever Wednesday email, I’m gonna explode.

Spam my email? I’m no longer your customer or potential customer. You’ve been excommunicated, banned, deported, and exiled. Your current and future missives are being systematically annihilated by the power of my spam filter.

I pay to eliminate ads when I watch streaming nowadays, and have ad blockers on my browser and FB, because marketing has run amok. It’s unfortunate. Businesses need to promote their products and services, which isn’t happening when people turn it all off; and my friends in broadcasting are in a world of hurt because advertising revenues for them are in the toilet.

If only marketing gurus understood that when you take things from promoting to badgering, you’ve devalued your work to zero and alienated any potential customer base.

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G’s been on a roll all week, getting stuff done. We’ve both checked projects off our respective lists. However, I’m still working full time, which limits my availability. So far my contribution has been our two-person cleanout of the linen closet in the bathroom, helping to decorate the Christmas tree, slapping together the questionable poinsettia arrangement in a Pyrex casserole (take that, partridge in a pear tree), and doing a mad run to Joanne’s for craft supplies.

None of these photos are prize-winning snaps. Most were taken with my cell phone, then cropped and edited for size and to hide all the crap in the background.

This little box from Joanne’s is part of our joint project for a white elephant Christmas gift (for the family – wouldn’t go to this much trouble otherwise):

We bought it unfinished. So far the only thing done is it’s been stained, thus no glowing waxed surface to make it pretty. The next step is to add patinaed copper, with the wood peeking through in places, and a clear coat over it all. I’m doing the painting part and will do the inside lining. Depending on how well it does through all that, we’ll probably finalize it with a coat of beeswax and buff it out. I have a piece of green felt for the inside bottom. Not sure yet what will go into the box before we gift it – but whatever it is, it’ll be made by us.

Here’s a shocker. Nearly two years after we bought it, G finally hung my compass rose next to the front door. Say it with me now: Hallelujah!

I told him last weekend he might as well sell it, since it wasn’t ever going to be hung. Most of the time if he puts things off that long I assume it’s because he never liked (whatever) and therefore he’d jump at the chance to sell it. I’m glad I was wrong on this one, because I really love the thing. He told me he actually does, too, and it had become kind of a thorn in his side to get it done.

There’s more. G’s finished dozens of little jobs around the house over the past week. I warned him not to overdo it (heart condition), but neither am I complaining he’s on a roll and clearing the honey-do list at warp speed. He even put up our outdoor Christmas lights a couple of days ago. One string of clear lights runs over the top of that front overhang. Holiday or not, we do low-key.

We bought a pitiful vintage folding stepstool at garage sales a couple of weeks ago (original condition shown below). It’s earmarked for a plant stand for my ginormous pothos plant, which is currently parked on top of – and outgrowing – our MCM kitchen cart.

Yes, our dubious find was most definitely rough. G cleaned it up, scoured and scrubbed away most of the rust, sanded off paint splatters in places, and repainted the whole thing matte black. Picture to follow when I get a chance to take one. I thought the original chippy patina – minus dirt and rust – would be fine. G wasn’t having it. He said black or gray, and we agreed on black. I think we paid $2 for the stool, which was a fair price for its condition. Yes, the steps fold in. They’re a bit temperamental about it, but I’m more stubborn than they are.

Below is Goliath, my ginormous pothos, which will be residing atop the thing once it’s fully done. Alas, Goliath needs a bigger pot. The vintage folding cart where he currently lives is already at capacity. I don’t think it’s sturdy enough to support a bigger Goliath. Additionally, once he sits atop the painted relic, Goliath will be relocated closer to the window, where he can soak up some rays.

I’m going to trim him back a bit and sprout the trimmings. Even after a “haircut” he’ll still be huge. Amazon promised to deliver half a dozen starter pots tomorrow, and I plan to start a pothos jungle. Once they’re established, the babies will be distributed to family and frenemies.

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This entry ended up longer than I intended, so I’ll end it here. I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving weekend and is braced for the Christmas onslaught. I wish you a glorious HannuChristmaKwanzivus!