Christmastime.

Man, this Christmas came and went so fast I can barely remember it all. We left for Texas on the 19th so we felt like we had to do everything earlier, quicker, more rushed.
More rushed than usual?? Man, that's rushed.
But here I am saying to you so that you are my solemn witnesses (in other words, remind me of this next year - remind me!): We will not be going to Texas for Christmas again. No more!
It is just too much. It's pretty darn hard to fit Santa into a little green Eddie Bauer suitcase. Even harder to get him home.

This will be a hard promise to keep though, because there is no where else I'd rather be than at my mom and dad's for Christmas. It isn't that her house has that nice Christmasy smell (it actually smells like boiled chicken half the time) it's that it's so darn cozy and pretty and lit up and decorated. And I love it!

Christmas really started on the 23rd when we brought home Truman, a golden retriever puppy for my dad. Remi hope had a fit - let's just leave it at that. Her and Truman were quite the pair.

But staying up late on Christmas night and playing Santa. That is the best part of all. I love it. It's like I'm finally in on a little bit of the magic. Though, I do have to admit, I think the spirit of excess came into that room and left. Even he thought it was ridiculous. But fun, what fun!

Christmas tends to be a hard time for some. Harder for others. Hi! I'm "others". Christmas carols haven't had the same meaning for me for a couple of years now. Lights look different. And I tend to understand the message behind it all - that of giving away your son - in an entirely new and respectful way. It seems more somber now. More Holy. Yes, definitely more Holy.

And so on Christmas morning when I opened up my new ring...a ring I wasn't expecting to get, a ring I had never even picked out...I started to cry. It had Elisha's birthstone in it. Heck, it had Elisha's face in it. It looked like him. Small, fragile, sweet and innocent. And it was perfect. I cried when I put it on and I remembered the fragile, sweet, Holiness of certain moments.

yep.

To all those who were so sure I was smoking something. It's here and it's real. So check it out.

www.crazymonkeyladies.com

Just look.

I can't think of a catchy title. I can't even find anything humorous or witty to say. I just need you to take a look at this picture.

Have you ever seen anything this cute?

Granted, she was un-impressed by the whole ordeal.

There were no tears.

No screaming.

No running away in hysterics.

But nor were there any smiles, any laughter, or any sharing secret wishes.

There was just her. And him. And both seemed equally exhausted to see the other. He acted as if he was fast approaching an 18 hour work day and her an 18 hour play day.

(I don't know his excuse but that 18 hour thing was actually legit in her case.)

And so I had to share it. Because let's be honest, you don't come across a face like that every day.

Merry Christmas.

Spending 2007 with Francis

Francis RuthAnn Hindemeyer Winestock,

Well, another year down. That's how I look at it. Another year has come and almost gone and neither one of us are dead yet. That is pretty much the way I view the years as they come on me rather rapidly. But here we are Frannie, neither of us dead yet, both of us wishing at times that we were. Ah well, the dear Lord knows best - does He not? I will trust in Him AND His timing.

Georgia was good. Didn't you think Georgia was good? I did. I thought Georgia was good. Maybe even great. I maybe even thought that Georgia was great. I am not sure if great is stretching it a bit, so I will stick with good, but great is an option.

Hot, though. Here we are in December and I couldn't even pull out my fur-lined boots Georgia was so hot.

Muggy too, Georgia was muggy. I hate muggy. I know you do too, Fran. Your hair curls up.

Also, their talk. Couldn't understand their talk. They talk like they have absolutely no where to be. Did you notice that Frannie? They talk slow like they are in, what's that word Fran? What's the word where you don't go fast? Where you go, well, it's like slow, but it's...uh..what is that? Oh yeah, slow-mo. It's like they're in slow-mo. (Don't get bombarded by my lingo Frannie, slow-mo simply means slow motion.)

I also found it incredibly hard to drink anything other than iced tea. I mean, honestly, can they be any less creative? I would have liked a good stiff Coca Cola at some point, that's all I'm saying. But tea was their drink of choice - from the poor house to the White house it's all they drink. Where is the coffee? Does any waiter in that state serve coffee?

They also seemed a little paranoid those Georgians. It probably has to do with the fact that they've been through several wars. But still, if they think that just because you and I look at them and point means we are talking about them - they got us all wrong. We were simply pointing out some things they needed to work on. But little do they know we do all of that in Jesus name. So that makes it okay. I see no need for the paranoia. But like I say, war seems to have a lasting effect on some southerners.

But like I said, Georgia was good. In fact, I'll write some good stuff about it later when I come up with something.

Francis RuthAnn, may I just say how lovely you looked this past weekend. Where did you get that shirt? You told me Penney's just to throw me off your scent. But I know you lied. You cannot get a geese sweatshirt just anywhere. So I will sit idly by holding my precious tongue until you decide to fess up. And later that night when we forgot where we parked - did you not feel like we were the wise men following the star of Bethlehem to the tiny baby Jesus? Except we were two Jersey girls following a glo-in-the-dark geese to my Morty's '76 Caprice Classic. Nonetheless, nonetheless - it was a magical moment. And not just because that one geese on your sweatshirt has eyes that follow you.

Yes, Francis, another year with you and what a year it has been. I have loved every minute of it. I loved helping you put your press-on nails back on after one fell of in the new velvet offering plates. I loved joining Weight Watchers with you every single time we joined this year. I enjoyed walking the track with you until that heel spur sidelined us for the past 11 1/2 months. And I enjoyed volunteering at the Crisis Hotline until that unfortunate incident when they asked us not to return. That was a blessed 8 hours though, wasn't it?

I love you Francis. I don't tell you enough. I love you and I can't wait to see what 2008 holds.

Your BFF (that's what the kids say, Frannie)

Ester Goldfine

Paula Dean Made Me Mad, Ya'll!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am angry. I mean, really angry. Maybe the angriest I have ever been. (Note: I use the phrase "the angriest I have ever been" very, very often. Pay no attention to it. Ever.)

Okay, picture it.

Georgia.

Monday night, December 3rd.

Packed house.

The Crazy Monkey Ladies are sitting and talking with the audience during our "Coffee Talk" segment and I mention that if I made the trip to Georgia the least I could get out of it was to meet Paula Dean.

Right then, a beutiful, silver haired lady raises her hand and screams, "Right here, baby."

And ladies, my world stopped.

I mean, it literally stopped.

This is Paula, ya'll. This is like Celine Deon - but with food.

At that moment, God walked out. He really did. I mean, He must have. Because I don't remember anything else except "did I sound good on that last song because she does a Christmas show..."

Then afterwards, when ladies were coming up to us to ask us to pray for this and that, I was out stalking Paula. Rhonda caught me huddled in a corner waiting for her to walk by before I would pounce. I don't remember exactly what Rhonda said but the words "Seriously" and "get a grip" were used. Kate encouraged me to be a bold woman of God and go up to her and speak LIFE! Terra prayed I would have a Godly encounter with her. And Stacey rolled her eyes. (Yep, that's all of us in a nutshell.)

After waiting my turn with some 30 other women who stood in line with pen in hand I went up to her.

And ya'll.................................................I'm mad.

This was NOT Paula Dean.

This wasn't even a friend of Paula Dean.

I had encountered a Paula Dean IMPERSONATOR.

I mean, seriously, who does that for a living????

After having my picture taken with her (look closely, you will see some serious disappointment in my eyes), she introduced herself as "Jeannie. A Paula Dean impersonator."

What?

And so that's how it went. That's how our big outing in Georgia went. I spotted Paula across a crowded room, forgot in one breath what God had originally called me to do, any annointing in my life walked out the side door and I was left with a sham of a picture.

My ministry in a nutshell people.

And it all began with a lie.

Coming next: More on Georgia...and Frannie.