If you don't have a lap is it still a laptop?

Santa left a new lap top computer at our house. Ostensibly, it is an educational tool for Barbara as she continues her studies at Austin Grad. In reality, it is so we can sit and read our blogs and peruse Facebook while we watch TV. Well, I peruse Facebook; Mom says she still has a life. I say, who spent 9 hours catching up on her blogs after we got back from Peru?

But that's not all... when the TV guy says "You can find out more by clicking on the whatever icon on our home page", we are right there. Or "Vote for the TV commercial of your choice on www.yousucker" we're on it in a heart beat.

Only problem is balancing this thing on my lap. There's not a lot of real estate left there, and the PC tends to want to tip over when you open the lid. My solution is to put the recliner back, add a pillow and a lap board and I'm all set. Of course, I'm sort of stuck in this position when I do that, so there's not much else to do but sit back and enjoy life.

Sweet.

Christmas Chili

I ran across a recipe for "Texas Red Chili" by a guy who writes for Texas Monthly, and he pointed out that this was the basic recipe - no frills, no 80 secret ingredients. Just plain ol' Chili. I 'lowed as how that sounded pretty good, and since the recipe calls for you to make it up and then refrigerate it for a spell, I could make it up ahead of time and we could have it for our Christmas lunch.

We had all the spices - I just needed the meat and some fresh jalapenos and fresh Ancho peppers - so when we went out for supper, we stopped at the Yuppie HEB and got everything but fresh Anchos. I found dried, so I figured I would improvise. Got it all home and put on my Wick Fowler hat and went to work.

Do you know how hard it is to cube 3 ponds of chuck? At the HEB I turned up my nose at the ready-made chili meat - not lean enough, I thought. Of course, if we had a kitchen knife that was sharper than a serving spoon, it might have been easier. I decided that if we were going to eat meat that didn't come sliced into sandwich portions we might have to invest in a knife.

Okay, meat is cut up. You know, we don't have a skillet big enough to brown 3 pounds of meat. Two batches? Nahh, just keep flipping the fall-out back in the skillet. Note to self: add big skillet to list. And lots more paper towels.

Now make a puree of the peppers. Except the dried Ancho is sort of like an old boot. That stuff is pretty leathery. Oh, well, toss it in anyway. The blender should take care of it. Now put the browned meat and the pureed peppers with Ancho chunks in the pot (we do have a big pot, and it only took Mom half an hour to find in the far recesses of the cabinet), add water and bring it to a boil, adding spices along the way.

You might want to know that cooking a big pot of anything with a lot of spices and chili peppers in it tends to affect the sinuses and eyes - even if you go into the computer room and shut the door. We're all breathing freely now; it's seeing the TV through the tears that's hard. But this gave me an opportunity to research Ancho peppers, and it turns out there's no such thing as fresh Anchos. Those would be your Poblanos; dry them and they are called Anchos.

At this point, I began to wonder what else the writer did not know about cooking Chili. But it looked like Chili, and it smelled like Chili, so after simmering for an appropriate time, I put it in the fridge to wait for Santa.

And it tasted like Chili. Maybe we just started a new Christmas tradition.

Gabriel’s Message

The anxiety that had gripped him – all but consumed him – since he had received his instructions held him motionless before the small village. “This can’t be right,” he thought. “This backwater village in this backwater region can’t be the place.” He almost thought, “There must be a mistake,” before he caught himself. No, there was no mistake, but that didn’t ease the sense of despair, the dread that had overwhelmed him since he had been sent on this mission.

He thought back to his summons before the Throne. There, before the Most High and a small group of angels, the Word had told him that He was going to leave heaven and go to Earth as a human, to become the King of the wayward and rebellious people and turn them back to the Father. He thought at that moment the heavens would fracture and they would all fall into the abyss, but that was just the beginning. The Word went on to explain how He was going to become human, and who His earthly mother would be and that he, Gabriel, in his role as messenger was to go and prepare her. He had already carried out a similar mission six months ago by appearing to Zechariah, the priest and foretelling the birth of a son. He chuckled a bit at having left Zechariah speechless. But that was different; Elizabeth was just old and childless. This… this was something altogether different.

Now Gabriel stood in the dark on the road before the little village of Nazareth, a collection of mud houses nestled on a hillside in Galilee, one of many such villages, none notable. Some of the houses seemed piled on top of others against the hill, mud roof of one becoming the courtyard of another. Some were white-washed; most were not. At the end of the street a few awnings stretched across poles marked where the vendors made a market each day. The market was empty now, as were the streets. All of Nazareth was indoors.

Gabriel strode quickly to the house. Pausing before the door, he tried to muster as much angelic aura as he could, but aura – and almost everything else – had been sucked out of him. He pushed the heavy curtain aside and stepped into the room. She was alone, as he knew she would be. She was startled at his abrupt entrance, but not as much as Gabriel was. “A child!” he thought. “She’s just a child.” He knew the way of the humans – the betrothals at a very early age, the arranged weddings – but to actually see her just confirmed all the dread he felt. “What was He thinking? This skinny girl cannot be the mother of the King of Israel!”

Pushing aside his misgivings, Gabriel set to his task and exclaimed in his most angelic voice, “Greetings, you who are highly favored. The Lord is with you.” He was chagrined at the weak and trembling way the proclamation actually came out. He cleared his throat.

Mary stared at Gabriel in shock. She was startled, but there was nothing to be afraid of in Nazareth. Certainly there was nothing threatening about this man, stranger though he was. What troubled her was his greeting. Mary was a non-person in Nazareth; hardly anyone ever spoke to her at all, least of all strangers, and this was certainly not what a stranger said to you – not even a stranger who burst into your house unannounced. This wasn’t even a greeting that the Rabbi would make – not that the Rabbi ever spoke to her – but this… this greeting made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Gabriel, aware that he had startled Mary, quickly said, “Don’t be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God.”

Now Mary was afraid. First, this stranger knew her name. The neighbors didn’t even know her name. Then he said he knew something about her that she didn’t know – and what he knew came from God. Deep down, the first tiny spark of knowledge of who this stranger was and what was happening snapped into being. Yes, now Mary was very afraid.

“You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Mary heard the words but they didn’t make sense. Then she began to process them, first the part about having a son, then the part about her son being given the throne of David. The little spark was burning white-hot now. Then she went back to the beginning – the part about being with child. Yes, she was engaged to Joseph, and they would marry soon, but something told her this was not what was meant. She lowered her eyes for a moment, then raised them to Gabriel and said, “How can this be? I... I’ve never been with a man.”

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. That’s why the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.”

Gabriel saw the flash of terror pass through Mary like a lightning bolt. She turned her head away, but Gabriel had seen her eyes wide with alarm. “It’s too much for this child,” he thought. “She can’t handle this.” He sought some way to comfort her. He said gently, “Your cousin Elizabeth is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. Nothing is impossible with God.”

Mary looked at the angel, for she knew full well now that this stranger was from God. Her heart pounded as if it would leave her body. Her mind raced from one thought to another. God has chosen me… What will Joseph say…? It’s not possible… Nothing is impossible with God… What will mother say…? The Messiah – at last…! This can’t be happening to me… Me! God has chosen me…! Why me…? What will father say…? There’s an angel standing in my house… What will the neighbors say…? What of the shame…! Mother of the Messiah…! What will Joseph’s family say…? What…?

Gabriel was stunned. He felt the emotional turmoil, sensed the burning questions as they caromed through her consciousness. He was certain she was going to bolt into the street and he positioned himself squarely before the door to stop her flight when it came. The whole future of creation hung on the answer from this child and he was powerless as to its outcome.

Slowly, the Spirit calmed her mind, softened the trip hammer of her heart, and brought stillness to her thoughts. She looked at Gabriel a long time, then bowed her head and said. “May it be to me as you have said.”

Gabriel blinked once or twice, trying to decide what to do next, but there was no next. His work was done. There was nothing more to say, so he just turned and stepped back into the street. He paused in the dark passage, thinking about what had just happened. He had delivered a preposterous message to a totally improbable girl and she had received it in stride – and was prepared to act on it. Smiling to himself, he set off to find Joseph.

Our Christmas decorations this year

First the Angel Band...

Then the shepherds with gifts of potatoes, lamb and corn...

And then the family.

All in the manger


Feliz Navidad

My hat's off to the daily bloggers

I have the utmost respect for those people who daily fill a blog page with witty insights, or touching stories, or thoughtful meditation. I can't do it. Sometimes your life just becomes un-bloggy, and there isn't a single thing of interest to share.

Oh, I try. I make mental notes about things all the time:

• Like the guy in UT regalia wandering around Wal-Mart, yelling, "I'm going to Arizona to watch UT whup up on Ohio State." But I couldn't come up with a second sentence.
  
• Or the picture I tried to take of a tree in the office parking lot that has just been brilliant in color and Fall foliage, but the camera was set to Macro focus and when I got a good look at the pictures they were out of focus. Now the color is gone.
• Or wondering where is this recession people keep talking about? We can't get in to our favorite eating places because of the crowds; or can't find a place to park at the Mall because of all the other shoppers.
• Or the fun I'm having with the Santa hat; I wore it to a Dentist appointment the other day and he got all the hygienists and office workers out to take a picture with me. Okaaay.
• Or about Mom's stuck-in-the-sand adventure at the beach, but that's sort of a sensitive subject and I really shouldn't bring it up.
• Or the other things I was going to mention in this blog, but now I can't remember them.

So, to my tens of readers out there who have been waiting with bated breath for each new installment, I apologize and suggest that there may be more useful things to do with your time.

And maybe things will get bloggier after the Holidays!