Christmas Card Conundrum

If you haven't already found one of these in your mailbox (or we didn't send you one — awkward), this little lovely is the 2010 Hannigan Christmas card.

I didn't think about it until the batch arrived and I started stuffing them into envelopes, but is it a little conceited that beside a picture of us we have, in large type, the word "joy"? That joy is easily attained just by finding our faces in your mailbox? However, we are the couple who, for our first Christmas, gave picture frames to our family members so that they would be able to frame and display our wedding pictures. (Hey, we'd just gotten married 10 days before!) And then, for our second Christmas, we gave pictures of ourselves to our family members (these were also accompanied by frames, this time Christmas themed).

So, are we vain? Well, when you look this good, I like to think of it as a public service.

(Sometimes sarcasm doesn't translate into type very well, so might I emphasize that that last line is meant to drip with it. Add a heavy eye roll just to drive home the point.)

And while we're on the subject of Christmas cards, here is how we're displaying ours this year. It beats laying them along the kitchen counter like last year.  Do you see yours?

Yuletide Traditions: Mimi's fudge

My second Christmas as a married woman marked my first one away from home.

And while I loved being a part of new traditions with Scott's side of the family (like how each person opens their gifts one-at-a-time for everyone to watch and not in an every-man-for-himself fury of paper and ribbon like mine) I found myself searching replacements for what I would be missing out on by not being with my family.

There was one thing that despite my best attempts proved irreplaceable.

The joy of family? The smile on my young cousins' faces? The warmth of being home?

No.

It was my Mimi's fudge.

The top layer is mine. The bottom layer is also mine. If there's a third layer, you can bet it's mine, too.

I know it seems an incredibly shallow (and caloric) thing to say. That Christmas I found myself eating a lot of fudge made by a lot of people, and none of it measured up to Mimi's. Some had nuts. Some was too dry. Some was too chewy. Some was just plain nasty. (I think some was made with Sweet 'n Low. Yuck.) It just wasn't the same.

At Christmastime, I remember searching Mimi's pantry for one thing — the plaid tin wherein lay layers of small, rich, chocolaty squares separated by plastic wrap. One piece found its way onto my plate, then two and, when no one was looking, number three. There are few things that her fudge can't cure when accompanied by a big glass of milk in her living room.

What makes hers my favorite is definitely who makes it, where I am when I have it, and those I have to fight for the last piece. If warmth and love are the feelings of Christmas, the squeals of delight are the sounds, and the sights are of your family members' faces lighting up as they open a gift or the lights on the tree, then Mimi's fudge is the taste of Christmas. Missing out on that was one more reminder that things were going to be a little different from now on.

Since then, Mimi has made and frozen my own tin of fudge before Thanksgiving so that I might have that little piece of home regardless of where I might be spending Christmas. The best part is that now I don't have to share.

Yuletide Traditions: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Despite the fact that the sound of Rudolph's nose lighting up sends me into seizures, this claymation wonder is still one of my favorites. It's a little random at times, and the nudity of the Abominable Snowman weirds me out, but it's been a part of my Christmas memories for as long as I can remember.

And while I thought Rudolph and his song were pretty much the same for everyone, it wasn't until Christmas chapel a few years ago that I learned this wasn't the case. In the midst of slamming song books and jingling car keys, a years-long debate between Scott and me was born. While the crowd was wrapping up "Rudolph" and singing "you'll go down in history," I interjected my usual "Like George Washington!" while Scott said "Like Columbus!"

"Wait. What? Columbus?" I asked him. He only looked at me in the same confused way. "George Washington doesn't even flow right." We both agreed to disagree. (Little does he know, our future child will sing George Washington.)

Since then, whenever Christmas and Rudolph roll around, we begin the grand debate again. I even poll those around me. My very scientific Facebook findings have led me to believe that it's an Arkansas thing, as Arkansans are the only ones I've found who say Columbus.

So, claim your side now. Are you a Washington or Columbus? 

Final exam

Photo (jealously tweeted) by Jeff Montgomery

For my self-administered mid-term, I told you what I'd learned while teaching. For my final exam, I thought it was only fair that I let you in on what my students learned from my class. Stealing the idea from my fellow adjunct Ian (who stole it from someone else, who stole it from someone else, etc.), I had my students tell me what they took away from our time together. Here's what they said.

• "The papers were always what helped me learn the best. Actually putting what we learned on paper and getting to put things into practice was a lot better than just sitting there reading out of the book and reading what someone else had put into practice. I liked having conferences with you; you just really get a better feel for what the teacher is looking for when you can sit down and read through your paper with them. You are able to discuss the comments made on your paper rather than trying to interpret what the teacher meant by the comment made."
• "I learned not to be wordy — to be straight to the point."
• "In Comp. 1 I have learned how to write better. I feel as if my writing improved greatly. My grammar and sentences as well as organization and purpose of writing improved a lot. Thank you for all the help. You have honestly been one of the most helpful English teachers I have ever had."
• "The big thing that I learned that will stick with me is how to properly use commas. I also feel a lot more comfortable writing the different types of essays that we did. The grammar work was also good practice. What I liked most and helped me a lot was practice on being more descriptive. I think you did a good job pushing that."

I feel like a proud momma, bursting with pride realizing her little ones are all grown up. They have taken my teachings to heart and are going to be OK in the big, scary world of Comp. 2. I really enjoyed this class. I'm going to miss them a lot; I'm not going to miss grading one little bitty bit, though.

Yuletide Traditions: Lights!

Harding at Christmastime! Isn't it lovely?

There are few things that really shake the Scrooge out of you like Christmas lights can. I remember Mom and Dad piling my sister and me in the car to go on a slow crawl around nearby neighborhoods, gawking at the Christmas lights. As a child, I thought the colorful lights were far superior to the plain ol' clear ones. But since the University started decorating the front lawn with millions* of bluish white strands, I think I've been converted.

Whoops. That last one isn't Harding...

*OK, maybe not millions. Humor me.

Three years ago today...

As of today, we have been married...

3 years • 1,095 days • 156 weeks • 1,576,800 minutes • 94,670,778 seconds • 3 cars • 2 places we've called home • 2 college degrees •Approximately 100 cans of Saturday cinnamon rolls • 6 birthdays • 4 Christmases • 10 Arkansas Razorbacks games • Innumerable road trips •1 time out of the country • 1 job promotion (hint: not me) • 5 semesters of Home Bible Study • Thousands of laughs • Tons of random made up songs • Hundreds of jokes • Lots of kisses

Yet another case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. Happy anniversary, sweetheart! I love you more than words can say.

(I love you so much that I actually did math. If that's not love, I don't know what is.)

Dinner and a "Miracle"

While the bitter cold has tried its best to make it feel like Christmas, I've had a hard time getting into the spirit this year. Listening to Christmas music seems forced, and wrapping presents is a chore. Not even the Living Nativity holds the same seasonal excitement for me.

Because of our hectic holiday schedule, we didn't put up our tree or Christmas decorations. Between putting it all up and taking it all down, we would have had about two weeks to enjoy it. All of our Christmas shopping was done before Thanksgiving so we could give my family their gifts when we saw them in November. I've just been feeling a little Scrooge-y this year.

Luckily and thankfully (lunkfully?), I have a sweet husband who hears my cries of bah humbug and rushes to my aid with four c.c.s of Christmas cheer — stat!

On Saturday night, Scott took me out for our anniversary (observed, not official) to Center on the Square, Searcy's dinner theater, for dinner and "A Miracle on 34th Street."

Center on the Square is appropriately located on the square across from the courthouse. Although it looks small from the outside, the building runs a long way back with the small stage to the right and tables for four lining all the way back with the dinner buffet at the end. Each night is catered by a different place around town, and our dinner of turkey, dressing, and the best red velvet cake ever was brought in from K.J.'s. During dinner, we were serenaded with Christmas carols and some little stringed instrument my elementary school music teacher used to play.

In case you don't know the story (Shame!), let me catch you up. There's a nice old man named Kris Kringle who claims to be Santa Claus. Because of this, he is institutionalized as insane. A young lawyer — whom he's befriended along with a single mother and her daughter, Susan — decides to defend him by arguing in court that he is the real thing.

While I doubt any of the actors will be earning a Tony nomination for their efforts, the show was very enjoyable to watch and all the kids who were in it were adorable. Santa's beard needed a little help though. There's the scene where Susan decides to pull on Kris's beard to prove it's a fake, only to find out that it is his actual beard. If the beard we saw Santa wearing was real, then I'm Kate Middleton, soon-to-be princess of Wales, and have her perfect hair.

We left feeling holly jolly, plus we'd found a new source of local entertainment (and, around here, when you find that, you don't let go).

Yuletide Traditions: Christmastime playlist

Not unlike the Grinch who stealthy stole the Whos' Christmas while they slept, I've stolen this post idea from the lovely Cassie. It just fit so well into my little Christmas series. It was begging to be swiped. (I also was given permission by Cassie to copy her, so I'm not all that Grinchy after all.)

To truly get into the Christmas spirit, it is vital to have a well sculpted Pandora Christmas station at hand. After three Christmases of vigilantly thumbing up or down various Christmas hits (and many, many misses), I have finally created a Pandora station that I don't have to worry about — one that gives me hour after hour of the exact songs which play while sugar plums dance in my head. It's joyful and triumphant.

If you aren't fortunate enough to have the best Christmas playlist ever, I'm in a giving mood, so here are my top 10 (in no particular order):

1. "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" by the Drifters. You can't listen to this and 1) not think about "Home Alone" or 2) sing along with the "doh-dohs." Impossible. Can't be done. Go ahead and try, but you'll fail.

2. "All I Want for Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey. I've never been a huge Mariah fan. I can't sing every word of "Butterfly" like some people (*cough* Scott *cough*), but how can you say no to this? The piano, the jingle bells, the always failed attempt at her high notes. Seriously. You need a running start to even think you can hit the note at the end.

3. "Silver and Gold" by Burl Ives. This singing snowman's voice has been a part of every Christmas I can remember. The claymation Rudolph is a classic, as is this little reminder that the most important part of Christmas isn't what you get. Yukon Cornelius would do well to learn that lesson.

4. "Zat You, Santa Claus?" by Louis Armstrong. If you think about the whole Santa thing and the fact that once a year some big old dude comes busting into your house, you'd be a little scared, too. This song tackles this important issue.

5. "Tender Tennessee Christmas" by Amy Grant. This song got a lot of playing time while I was in college and about to go home for Christmas — something that means more when you've been away for a while. And this song reminds me of that.

6. "Christmas Don't Be Late" by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Sing it with me now: "I still want my huuuu-laaaa hoooop!"

7. "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" by John Lennon. Sometimes, the Debbie Downer in me thinks a lot like this song: "So, this is Christmas, and what have we done? Another year over; a new one just begun." I try to make this song my charge to do more/be better.

8. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney. While "Happy Xmas" is a very John song, heavy with political commentary and self reflection, "Christmastime" is a very Paul song, trendy synthesizer, perky lyrics, completely cheerful. If you take the two songs together, it's sort of a Christmas version of "A Day in the Life" with their very different takes on the same idea.

9. "Christmas Time Is Here" from A Charlie Brown Christmas. This song makes me sad and overly sentimental, which is perfect for the holidays. And a children's choir always wins me over.

10. "Christmas Song" by Dave Matthews Band. In a time of sweet Christmas songs about being under the mistletoe or what's on your Christmas list, this song is a nice reminder of the reason behind it all. I love the depiction of the greatest celebration day and the greatest gift we'll receive — our salvation. It's a beautiful song about a beautiful story.

Yuletide Traditions: A Muppet Christmas Carol

Since it's now December, and we can finally acknowledge Christmas without worrying about any backlash from those "Thanksgiving is chronically overlooked!" people, I decided to do a mini-series on my favorite Christmas traditions.

Today we begin with one of my favorites between my sister and me: "A Muppet Christmas Carol."

Since the days of VHS tapes, (Remember when we used to rewind video tapes? Oh, those were the days.) Courtney and I have had a deep, resounding love for this movie, to the point where we would watch it even in non-Christmas months. And while the classic message of the Christmas Carol still shines through, what makes this movie worthy of countless rewatching is the magic and hilarity of the Muppets. And the songs. The songs that I can still sing, word for word, to this day.

There was one song, however, that Courtney and I hated — hatred so deep, that we would fast forward over it just so we didn't have to suffer through it. That song is "When Love Is Gone."

It was sappy; it was overly sensitive; it featured people singing meaningfully about love and loss and blah blah blah... Court and I couldn't take it. We didn't want heartwarming ballads. We wanted slapstick, humor, a rat getting his tail set on fire ("Light the lamp, not the rat!"), not a sensitive, singing Michael Caine. And don't even get me started on the girl. She's just so awkward to watch. And whiny.

Unfortunately, that VHS went the way of your other sock, car keys, my recorder memory card, and bobby pins, getting lost in that mystical vortex of misplaced things, and we needed a replacement.

Enter the new and improved DVD version!

Popping it in, giddy with the promise of that weird little brown guy sitting on the roof (You know what I'm talking about, Courtney), we watched the Muppet magic in all of its digitally remastered glory.

And then came the song. With finger placed on the skip button, I was prepared to say bye-bye to that girl and her bonnet just like she was about to do to young Ebenezer. But the scene wasn't there to skip. It was gone! Apparently, enough people loathed that song that, when it was re-released, they did away with it completely! Alive with the promise that we'd never have to listen to that song again, we happily danced along, singing with the Spirit of Christmas Present.

And that, children, is what we call a Christmas miracle.

Since then, we've watched it together every year. Except this year. I'm not going to Nashville for Christmas, and Courtney no longer goes to Harding so can't come over before she goes home. I guess this means we'll have to watch it twice next year.

Now for you: What's your favorite Christmas movie — the one you must watch every year or it's just not Christmas?

And with that, I leave you with the weird little brown guy sitting on the roof. Totally worth it, isn't he?

The last of my Razorback posts for the season

The Friday before Thanksgiving, Scott and I loaded up the car and prepared to make a large, four state, weeklong circle  — with stopping points in Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and then back to Arkansas. We started out in Starkville, Miss., to see the Razorbacks play Mississippi State. This was our second road game, having gone to Oxford, Miss., the year before to watch the Arkansas/Ole Miss game (which we lost, starting a deep-seeded disgust in me for all things Ole Miss).

Despite the fact the Garmin got us to the middle of a highway and left us there once we arrived in Starkville, we really enjoyed seeing the campus and all the sights of the college town. We even got to stay in an historical hotel — the same Hilton Garden Inn where Cam Newton's dad made the (now not-so alleged) pay-for-play offer to Mississippi State. Classy, isn't it? Plus, the morning of the game, we shared the elevator with the Bulldogs' quarterback and two other very large team members ("I should've pulled a Tanya Harding and taken him out!" Scott later lamented) on their way to the game. It was a little intimidating to say the least.

Clockwise from top: Miss. State water tower; Scott and I pre-game; inside the stadium; the back of Ryan Mallett's head (it was the best I could do.)

When we got to the stadium, courtesy of a very interesting shuttle ride (two words: stripper pole), we were able to see the team get off the bus. I got to say hey to D.J. Williams (my favorite not just because he plays well, but because he actually smiles in his pictures instead of that trying-to-hard blank stare the other guys do to look tough), Ryan Mallett, Joe Adams, Jake Bequette (also a smiler), and the rest.

All the while we were "privileged" to be followed by Bulldogs fans with their infamous cowbells. (Turn your speakers way up and place them directly on your ears for the full effect.) Yes, they have a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell. I will say that they have some amazing fans, and the energy there is awesome.

Prior to this game, Mississippi State lost one of their players suddenly to cancer. This was their first home game since his death, and a large 36 was painted on the field, and the 36 yard hash mark was blacked out in his memory. Before the start of the game, they held a moment of silence for him. You could have heard a pin drop in what once was a stadium pulsing with excitement. Suddenly, cutting through the silence, was one, lone cowbell being furtively rang by his mother, standing on the field. The whole crowd cheered and rang theirs in response and support. It was heart wrenching. I cried (so what if I also cry at every military commercial, certain "Glee" episodes, and particularly moving print ads). After that it was time to dry your eyes and start calling the hogs!

It was a tight game, double overtime, but we were victorious and it was wonderful. I really didn't want to  hate Mississippi State like I hate Ole Miss. They seemed like nice people. We did sing "Hard to be humble" through twice though, which probably didn't make us seem like nice people.

Sunday, we awoke hoarse and still basking in our victory. We said good bye to Scott's mom and her husband and were on our way to Tennessee, first making a stop in Tuscaloosa, Ala., to see Alabama's campus, just because.

Our goal is to see Arkansas play an away game at every SEC West school (my original plea was every SEC stadium, but we're starting small). I'm already looking forward to seeing a game played here. It was an impressive campus, as much as that pains me to say.

And that was the end of our football season. We watched the LSU game in the comfort of my grandmother's living room, and, despite my prodding, Scott says the Sugar Bowl is a no for us. I'm already looking forward to next season!