SusieJ's Advent Calendar: December 7, 2008

The recipe: S's

As simple to mix as they are to shape, S's are an easy butter cookie rolled into the shape of a — you guessed it — S.

The surprise: The only holiday music feed you'll need

When I asked all my hip, music-loving friends for recommendations for the next big song, a.j., a former WKDU DJ, recommended WOXY's holiday feed. If a punk, post-punk, indie or any other altie-flavor band recorded a Christmas song, you'll find it here, along with Frank and Ella. Best of all, if you like it, you can buy it from that page! Sure, there are some real clunkers, but that's what the mute button is for. (There's an iTunes feature: mute until this song is over.)

How a Christmas tree nearly killed my husband

My first Christmas in West Virginia, I'd only been there for a month, and had no vacation to go home (and would probably work on Christmas anyhow). My boyfriend kindly consented to visit for a long weekend just before Christmas. He didn't drive and had no car, but his roommate was driving to York, Pennsylvania and agreed to meet me on the side of I-81 near the Chambersburg exit.

But before we could implement this plan, Jorj, my boyfriend, had two bike accidents in a week, breaking his bike. (Lesson: DON'T RIDE ON THE SIDEWALK.) He'd also broken his nose scrubbing down counters. (Lesson: Don't lean over the guy scrubbing the floor, espcially when he jumps up.)

Somehow, Troy and I found each other on the side of the highway and he handed Jorj off to me. My poor sweetie had a bandaid on his nose and bruises about his eyes. We started the hour and a half drive back to West Virginia. Before we got to my apartment, we stopped to pick out a Christmas tree. (I'd planned to do all the fun holiday things I'd be missing at home.)

First thing, we carried the tree up two, narrow, turning staircases to my apartment. On the way, I managed to turn a corner and smack Jorj in the face with five feet of bristling needles.

Live trees stay freshest longest if the bottom of the stump is cut off just before putting the tree into the stand. Often the tree lot will do this for you, but not this time. The only saw I owned was a hacksaw, good for pipes, bad for wood. I'm not sure why my father gave it to me but it was what I had. Jorj held the tree as I sawed unsuccessfully at the trunk. Then I held the tree while Jorj sawed. Then I sawed again; the blade snapped.

A co-worker had a spare blad to give me. I left Jorj to pick it up. By the time I returned he'd fallen sound asleep on my Ikea couch and didn't wake until the next morning.