Help! I'm being buried alive!

Look at this, people! All of these catalogs have arrived in my home in the past week. Yes -- I said "week."

I counted 'em up: the grand total = 93 catalogs.

So let's think about the math involved here. In seven days I received ninety-three catalogs. OK, let me lick my pencil . . . carry the 11 . . . solving for pi . . . . It turns out that I received an average of thirteen catalogs -- every single day. Am I crazy or doesn't that seem a wee bit excessive to you?

Now don't get me wrong. I love to read a catalog in the bathroom as much as the next girl. But have mercy, catalog publishers! If I read all of the catalogs, how will I ever find the time to keep up with my People magazine and National Enquirer? And by the way -- I thought we were all working together to save the planet here. I find it kind of hilarious that I have to pay my bank an extra $4.00 per month for the privilege of receiving paper copies of my statements, but Pottery Barn and Coldwater Creek and Levenger are willing to send me the most glamorous and slick magazines (often twice in one week) absolutely free!

Let's see what else we've got here:

I love getting the Restoration Hardware catalog, even though there is not a chance on God's beautiful spinning Earth that I could afford anything in it, except maybe the vintage Bingo game. That actually looks pretty cool.

You know this family is going to get an opportuntiy to make some purchase from the fine, fine people at Softball Sales. Good thing we heard from them, too -- because the girl in charge needs a new bag.

It makes me a little sad that I no longer have urchins who would love to get something from the Chinaberry catalog; once upon a time we would have placed a giant Christmas order with them -- fabulous books for the little urchins, people! But these days, the tall boy's wish list has Isaac Asimov, Stephen King, and Jim Butcher on it, while the girl in charge is immersed in the Game of Thrones series, and the sunny girl is yearning for anything steampunk. We're just not gonna find these items in the Chinaberry catalog. They are aimed more at the Pat the Bunny crowd.

I do still love the folks at Bas Bleu -- they never fail to point out a book or an author to make me happy. My heart was completely warmed yesterday when the girl in charge handed me the most recent edition of the catalog, with several pages turned down. Love that girl!

Should I be concerned about the reputation I must be developing amongst the catalogers? I received not only Wine Enthusiast . . .

. . . but Wine Country Gift Baskets -- on the same day! Hmmm. . . . and no catalog from the Coca-Cola Company. I should lodge a protest!

And I'm sorry -- I just find this the silliest catalog ever -- a catalog of Catalog Favorites. So is this like the Readers' Digest condensed version of all those damned catalogs I've been getting since late September? And just how do they know these are my own personal favorites? Is there a softball bag in this catalog? I don't think so! Rubber Ducky p.j.s? Not a chance! Lego Death Star? Oh, please!

I'll just stick to ignoring my ninety-three catalogs, thank you!


And on Day Five, behind the door of our Advent Calendar we find Peter Spier's Christmas!. This is actually a book that our family also enjoyed, when the urchins were very little. This is another wordless book, with illustrations that are so intricate and involved that children will pore over it for hours and hours, noticing fabulous details in every corner of every illustration. Our copy of this wonderful book fell apart years ago -- and sadly it is no longer in print. I'll bet, though, that diligent sleuths will be able to find it at a used book store. I have had great luck at

Thanks, Ava!