I receieved a notice in the mail today that I am GUARANTEED TO RECEIVE A WINNING ENTRY TO THE PCH SWEEPSTAKES WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK!

I, for one, am pumped.

Now, where is that d*mn mailman?

My baby sister had her second son today.

His name is Mark Mitchell (Mitchell was my grandfather's name) and weighed in at 8 lbs even.

Apparently mom and baby are doing fine.

I have gotten into online gaming lately. What with my bouts of stomach pain and all, I've found myself clambering into bed, laptop in tow, and engaging in online versions of...

No, not The Sims, Halo, Resident Evil, or anything remotely related to fantasy/violent/sexy gaming.

My games of choice are Scrabble and Boggle.

(you can stop laughing...NOW.)

I'm not all that good at either but I'm working on sharpening my skillz (which is not a legal word in either game, btw.)

Did you know that "Doh" (minus exclamation point) is a legal word in the version of Boggle I play? Well, now you do...

You can thank me later for imparting that shred of strategerie.

Today it is an uncharacteristic 50+degrees outside so of course I am thinking about how terrible the landscaping looks in my yard. I never realized how great a blanket of snow is for hiding imperfections, like piles of rotting leaves, kid's broken and faded plastic sandbox toys, and patchy pebble-strewn lawn.

Snow: nature's lil' cover-up. Zit-cream for ugly yards. A wig for balding lawns.

I'll not be b*tching about the frozen white stuff anytime soon...unless of course its up to me to shovel it...

For the past 6 weeks or so I have been having randomly-occuring episodes of intense and long-lasting abdominal pain. My GI docs think its duodenal ulcers; I am having an endoscopy next weekend.

Tonight I am in bed again, with just a heating pad to help a bit with the cramping pain. There is no Rx to help with this. It completely sucks, mostly because it is so random and disruptive and there is nothing I can do about it.

So, if I don't happen to "visit" often, its likely because I'm either resting or trying to catch up on the things I need to do when I am feeling ok.

Found inside my New Year's Day fortune cookie from the local Chinese take-out:

As it turns out, my personal faith system offers similar advice; we just don't use the term "karma" (well "we" don't but I do!)

Namaste, everyone!

Dateline: Morning of December 26th, 2007

My 7-yr old Daughter to her grandmother: "Gambaba, the holiday celebrations aren't over yet! Today is Kwanzaa!"

Gambaba: "But honey, our family doesn't celebrate Kwanzaa."

7-year old: "Yeah, you're right. We're not Jewish."

I likely won't have much time to update here or offer any amusing (or nauseating, depending on your point of view) tales of my GI tract, because, like many, I'm in the midst of the pre-Christmas flurry of activities.

We are packing up the Rockin' Van to drive to Philly for the holidays, and I have to pack clothes, toiletries, snacks and activities for the ride, dog supplies, gifts, and a cooler full of frozen pierogies (don't ask!) by Friday afternoon.

I also have many errands to run and tasks to complete (wash, clean house, organize items for pet/plant sitter, etc.) prior to the packing and driving.

Luckily for me, I was able to get someone to care for my 6 tree frogs over the break. None other than one of my parish priests offered to care for my amphibious creatures while I was away!  I hauled the habitat and supplies (cage full of crickets!)over to church today, and received many curious glances as I strolled into the office.

My priest pal is so sweet to help me out with the frogs, as they have to be fed DAILY and have the water level checked. He also has a fish aquarium in his office so more caged creatures doesn't really upset the apple cart over there!

Our pet sitter (for the cats) can only come a few times over the break, but that is fine, as the cats have self-feeder and self-watering dispensing dishes that merely need to be topped-off every 3rd day or so.

Ok, enough typing...I have to get back to my To Do list...

Do you publish and mail a Christmas letter?

I do not.

But, my parents DO and it inevitably contains something about me and my family (as well as my sisters.)

This year I happened to be chatting with my dad who noted that he just finished the Christmas letter. I asked him to email it to me. Not that I was going to play copy editor but...well I wanted to check it out before it went to the presses.

If I recall, in previous years there have been mentions of items that I personally would not have elected to broadcast to my parents' friends and distant relatives.

But then I thought, hell, I talk about my bowels often enough here to an audience I have (mostly) never met so... I guess it would be pretty hypocritical for me to object to my parents offering mild-mannered topics relating to my family, such as real estate transactions, recent vehicle acquisitions, etc.

The one thing that bothers me is that for some reason my dad talks more about my husband than me or my daughter combined!

Last year, a family moved into our neighborhood, renting a home that had previously been for sale. The children are a brother and sister. They are from the West Side of Chicago but have lived in Gary, Indiana, and various locales between here and there. The boy attends school with my daughter (he is 2 years ahead) and since their residence is on our street, he stops by our house in the morning on the way to the bus stop. We have gotten into a habit of sharing coffee in the morning - even if I'm not having any, I brew a bit for him to enjoy. He is thrilled if we happen to have a flavored creamers to try, like "French vanilla" or "pumpkin spice." My daughter enjoys the camraderie. I enjoy a polite and sweet child in the house to set a good example for her!

This 10 year-old is incredibly bright, vibrant and chatty. He truly has a "winning" personality. But his eyes lowered and his face fell when he mentioned to me a few weeks ago that they had to move. "I am only 10 but I have moved 14 times, " he stated to me somberly. He must have seen the sadness in my eyes. He quickly continued, "But don't worry, I'll still be going to the same school. We're going to find an apartment in the neighborhood."

There are few rental options - let alone AFFORDABLE rental options - for working people in this 'burb - although that is largely true throughout Chicagoland. My coffee buddy confided in me that they were to be evicted and had to be out of their house.

December 1st has come and gone and our young friend is still coming over in the mornings to walk to the bus with us. My daughter began to pry, demanding "Why haven't you moved yet?" He looked at me with confused and pleading eyes, and I hurriedly remarked to her, "Hey, that's not your business."

Through clues that he has offered, I am aware that this family is still in their rented home but they have no power or heat. Some evenings, they go the local library for the evening so the kids can do their homework. Often, they drive each night way up to the far northern suburbs to sleep in the basement of a relative. Then they wake the kids early and get them dressed and off to school here in the the Northwest suburbs.

One could easily turn their nose down and judge the parents for putting their children through the tumult of the shuttling and late nights and overall lack of stabilty. However, although I have only met the mother once, I do know that these parents are determined to do whatever it takes to provide a safe, high-quality education for their children, as ours is a top-rated school district.  Both kids gets nearly straight A's on their report cards.

Since we walk together each morning, I could not help but notice that my young friend has neither snow boots nor gloves. Thankfully, he does have a nice warm, hand-me-down coat from a cousin. I thought that a gift of boots might not be accepted. But today I went to the store and bought a few pairs of inexpensive gloves. I had a strategy for presenting them so as to not seem "charitable" but merely "neighborly."

As the kids clambered off the bus this afternoon, I had the gloves tucked into my pocket. "Hey, buddy, I went to the store today and they had a clearance special on gloves. I picked up some for our family and there are some extra. Would you like these," I stated, as I handed him the warm red gloves that coordinate with his coat and hat.

He couldn't put them on his little chilly fingers fast enough. "Thanks so much, Mrs. H.!"

Another part of my strategy, I was wearing a too-small pair in blue that I bought, intended for his sister. "You know, it turns out these are too small for me, do you think your sister could use them?"

"Oh, blue is her favorite color! Yes, thanks!"

The exuberance in his voice and the look of relief on his face will always be with me as a reminder to appreciate the littlest details in life and to be thankful for whatever I have - and not to worry about what I don't.