Yet more Holiday Sap!

Before we start, check this out: How would a dog decorate a Christmas Tree?

Funny, hmmm? :-)

Ok; now back to our regularly scheduled post in which I whine not once (past this point) about how bad I feel, or how much stuff I have to do before I can quit doing. This is a break.

One little spark
Of inspiration
Is at the heart, ha, ha!
Of all creation
Right at the start
Of everything that's new,
One little spark
Lights up for you!
Two tiny wings
Eyes big and yellow
Horns of a steer
What a lovable fellow!
From head to tail,
He's royal purple pigment
And there, Voila!
You've got a Figment!

This is pure Christmas Awesomeness!

A Season for Miracles

Off Season

Thank you, sappy-assed Hallmark Channel! You truly have saved my Holiday Season, and you have inspired me to make up my own list of holiday movies. I just haven't decided whether it will be a list of Best Holiday Movies, or Best Worst Holiday Movies. I'm a bit of a newbie to BWHMs, so I may just make a list of BHMs for now. If I haven't spiralled down into a holiday funk and killed myself by next year, I may be up to tackle BWHMs, thanks solely to your tutelage.



What I want to know is how you do it? How do you do it, Hallmark Channel? How do you manage to keep coming up with new plots which revolve around what is essentially the same story over and over? Single lady, usually with kids, meets guy; they fall in love, but they don't realise it (or at least one of them doesn't). She has more problems than one could shake a stick at. No, rilly--you couldn't. You'd shake your stick, and the problems, feeling there was safety in numbers, would just look at you and say, 'whuut?'.

But back to our recipe: Then chaos ensues. There is at least one misunderstanding, usually more, and then it all gets worked out just in time for a blissful Christmas Eve. And all the while, at least the lady or the gent (and sometimes both) are displaying enough behavioural problems (e.g., pathological lying, theft, failure to conform to the demands of reality) that were it up to me, I would remand them to some psychiatric hospital for observation. Or at least tell my son or daughter to steer clear of them. And despite her obvious emotional imbalance(s) Our Heroine doesn't even sleep with Our Hero. I mean, one would *think* that as screwed up as she is, she'd be all over him like white on rice, but no. Our Heroine may be FUBAR, but she's no ho. She may be a widowed, unemployed, homeless felon, fleeing from The Law and hiding out in FAO Schwartz over Christmas with her one (possibly two, but no more than three) cute-as-a-button child(ren), but hooker she is not! And if Bob The Store Manager wants to get anywhere with her, well...you're just going to have to put a ring on her finger, bub!

Or Bob, rather.

Butsoanyway.

And it is the same story, over and over.

And no--I am decidedly not paying a left-handed compliment; I truly and sincerely admire that ability, much as I admire the authors over at Harlequin and Silhouette, not that I can bear to read them. But I do stand in absolute awe--it is really, truly, astonishingly amazing, and if I were only similarly talented, I'd spend a lot less time making my imagination brain cells work overtime. Again--not being sarcastic, just making an observation.