White Christmas (!) Roses

It's Christmas!
That ^ exclamation point is a hold over from childhood. I'm in a good enough mood this Christmas morning, but there's nothing exclamatory about this holiday.

Ooh--except for the amazing Orange Cake!!! bink made for dinner  at my place last night, below. It's made with whole oranges, peels and all, boiled until soft and blended, and almond flour.
So, so good, bitter and sweet--definitely worthy of three "!s".

(The fresh ginger cake, however, that I'd made the week before, tasted okay (all that ginger)--a small slice, anyway, with whipped cream and fresh raspberries-- but it was sodden and flat, like a dead wet squirrel.
Negative exclamation point. " –!")

Back on the positive side, white roses! below, waiting for people to come through the door last night.

Biking down a nearby alley yesterday, I'd seen a white rose sticking out of a church dumpster. I'd stopped and pulled out a dozen--from a wedding perhaps. They were a bit squashed but barely opened.
I looked up "how to restore roses":
cut their stems and soak the entire flower, head and all, in lukewarm water. I put them in the bathtub for 20 minutes. They continue to open this morning.

The roses are the "white" in this Christmas. What should have been a   Christmas Eve snowfall was rain instead, and more rain is due this afternoon.
bink said it feels like Missouri, where both of us had grandparents. Yes. Opossums, which I associate with my southern grandparents, live up here now too, having migrated north with the warmer temps.

Another exclamation, though, is awarded for HOW MUCH M.'s grand-niece, below, left, LOVED her stuffed lemur from the thrift store--she is literally screaming with delight. A package of these toys, new with tags, had been donated, and I'd nabbed some for M. They have velcro paws, so they can wrap and hold around things, like children.

One more"!". For a present, bink printed the story "The Last of Master" [links to online copy at Issuu] that I'd written and she'd illustrated during the Pandemic Shut-In, spring 2020. Since then I'd almost forgotten about it.
I'd just been thinking, in fact, what a non-starter I am at fiction-writing. I'd been going to write a ghost story for Xmas Eve, but the only plot I came up with was too disturbing and mean-spirited.

The plot had been inspired by a fight I'd had with my sister when we exchanged Christmas presents a couple days ago. She'd given me something I'd told her three times (3x)--each time she'd asked me--that I didn't want.
When she gave it to me, she said, "If you don't want it, you can donate it."
I said, "I will".
(I would have too, but she took it back.)

She got snippy, and I got snippy, and that opened up the Box of Sisterly Resentments Since Forever, which is full to overflowing.
And as I walked up and down hills yesterday, a very good revenge ghost story came to me.
But, I thought I'd better SHUT THE BOX [exclamation point].

Hm. Marz is coming over for lunch, and I just tasted the rump roast I'm crock-potting. It is so dry. So, so dry.
Luckily I'd bought the usual roast (chuck) to cook for pot roast dinner last night--it was as good and tender as always. But decided to try a rump roast, too. God. If I ever doubted that FAT IS GOOD, I do no more.
It is practically like eating pressed wood.

Speaking of fat, I'd written a while ago about intending to lose weight so I have less of me to lift off the floor:
but I decided to work on GETTING STRONGER instead.
Reading about it, that seems more important--and also, realistically, far more do-able for me.

My coworker who lost 40 lbs a few years ago told me what she eats every day:
1 boiled egg for breakfast; a salad for lunch; and vegetable soup for dinner. She cuts a protein bar in thirds and eats one-third between meals.

Yes, no.

I'd thought about joining a gym again, but:
1. I never go, and,
2. It's expensive.
But walking up and down hills is free! This city doesn't have a  lot of hills, but I live near a hilly park, and there's another near the store.
It's fun! Invigorating!
And mentally healthful: You can stomp off your resentments to old family members at Christmas!

My sister and me:

Ha, no, it's Margaret Sullavan and Jimmy Stewart, of course, in my favorite Christmas movie, The Shop Around the Corner (1940).

And that's my final exclamation point before Marz arrives to walk up and down hills with me and then choke down some tough roast:
I'd mentioned to bink that I wanted to watch TSATC again this year--I'd only seen it once--and a couple days later she texted that it was going to be playing at the local microcinema, The Trylon. "Let's go!"
We did.
It's so good!!! Better even than I remembered.

These two, sullenly decorating the shop window for Xmas Eve, love each other, if only they knew it.

And now, for 2024 I am adopting the Wisconsin motto: FORWARD. Or, as Wisc. comedian Charlie Berens says, "Keep 'er moving!"
!!!