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).