Martha, on the other hand, decorates things. She spray paints pine cones and strews dead leaves on the table for thanksgiving. Stuff we used to do in first grade. I've often wonder when she's going to do her special on macaroni picture frames.
With the holidays upon us I think of Miss Martha more and more. I cuilled this from robinsfyi.com:
On the twelfth day of Christmas, an incoherent Martha Stewart gave to us,
an imported dead German pine tree
11 glue and stick make-your-own decoration kits
10 very shiny, very tiny pieces of glass
9 illegible invitations
8 let*s-use-paper napkins
7 *is-this-a-mongram or a stain?* tea towels
a tie-dyed table runner
five cups of cold bitter tea,
four soggy Alaskas
three melted French chocolates
two English they-are-prunes! cakes
But the cat ate the partridge AND the pear sauce!
My favorite is the email that used to go around of Martha's holiday calendar. I dug it up from the email junkyard:
Blanch carcass from Thanksgiving turkey.
Spray paint gold, turn upside down and
use as a sleigh to hold Christmas cards.
Have Mormon Tabernacle Choir record outgoing
Christmas message for answering machine.
Using candlewick and handgilded miniature pinecones,
fashion cat-o-nine tails. Flog gardener.
Repaint Sistine Chapel ceiling in ecru, with mocha trim.
Get new eyeglasses. Grind lenses myself.
Fax family Christmas newsletter to Pulitzer committee for
Debug Windows '98.
Align carpets to adjust for curvature of Earth.
Lay Faberge egg.
Take dog apart. Disinfect. Reassemble.
Collect dentures. They make excellent pastry cutters,
particularly for decorative pie crusts.
Install plumbing in gingerbread house.
Replace air in mini-van tires with Glade "holiday scents"
in case tires are shot out at mall.
Child proof the Christmas tree with garland of razor wire.
Adjust legs of chairs so each Christmas dinner guest will
be same height when sitting at his or her assigned seat.
Dip sheep and cows in egg whites and roll in confectioner's sugar
to add a festive touch to the pasture.
Drain city reservoir; refill with mulled cider, orange slices,
and cinnamon sticks.
Float votive candles in toilet.
Seed clouds for white Christmas.
Do my annual good deed. Go to several stores.
Be seen engaged in last minute Christmas shopping,
thus making many people feel less inadequate than
they really are.
Bear son. Swaddle.
Lay in color coordinated manger scented with homemade potpourri.
Organize spice racks by genus and phyllum.
Build snowman in exact likeness of God.
New Year's Eve! Give staff their resolutions.
Call a friend in each time zone of the world as the
clock strikes midnight in that country.
Well, it seemed funny at the time.
But it does bring up the question: What do men do on Christmas? I mean, besides sit around and take in the smells as the women-folk cook? Drink Brnady? Smoke Cigars? Watch TV? The normal manly pursuits, only this time with cranberry sauce?
WIth this in mind I've come up with one or two essentials for a manly holiday season:
Football. Preferably muddy football. My old highschool classmates still hold a soccer game the day after thanksgiving, but that's nto manly enough--at least not in America, where soccer is for moms and Brandy Chastain. No, we mean football. My familly always played football on Thanksgiving afternoon. No game of football on TV is as good as any game of football you play yourself.
Turkey. The manly way to prepare turkey, of course, is southern style, in a deep fryer. Overstock.com sells them for about $66. You can find them elsewhere on the web as well.
Boar. Preferably one you've shot yourself (see also: Turkey), but if you can't manage that, you can get cuts of wild boar from exoticmeats.com. Or, for that matter, whole wild turkeys. If you got a lot of people to feed, a whole farm raised pig is only $310.
Nog: forget the egg, get the nog. A good brandy mixes best. If you'r going to buy champagne for the holidays there are really only three choices: The Tits (Dom Perignon), Budget (Cooks--best you'll find under twenty dollars), and redneck (my family favorite, Andre! Try the cold duck).
Good Cheer. Make sure your electrical systme can handle the 200,000 light bulbs you're going to put up this year.
Shopping. Do it all on line, but go to Macy's anyway. Macy's is not for shopping. Macy's is survival training.
Finally, St. Nick. Department Store Santas are a nest of fleas and germs. Find an old biker buddy and put him in a red suit.