Sometimes, even that ritual visit to see Santa gets put off until the last minute. So this year, I figured I’d be one step ahead and actually plan the day for our visit. We headed to Lexington Green before 9 a.m. on Saturday. The plan was simple: I’d pick up a few things from the bookstore, and by the time we were done there, Santa would be arriving, Colton would divulge his wishlist, and we’d be outta there before millions of other Lexingtonians were even awake. (OK, so there are a million people in Lexington, but that’s hardly the point. Any city that has to put up “Caution: High accident risk. Do Not Block Intersections” signs in this area lends the appearance of having at least a million people in the vicinity of the mall.

Just so we’re clear, the Santa at Lexington Green is not your average run-of-the-mill, typical mall Santa with a fake beard and suit stuffed with a pillow. Oh, no. He’s the real deal. You can even pull on his beard. If ever there was a Santa who more closely resembled Miracle on 34th Street, I would be shocked.

My scheduling was working without a glitch, and by 10 a.m., we were walking toward Santa’s temporary headquarters.

“Here we are!” I said to Colton. “Ready to go see Santa.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“What?!? What do you mean, ‘you’re good’? We’re here to see Santa! Christmas is a week from today!”

“No thanks,” he said, while peeking in to try to catch a glimpse of the old man. Santa’s “organizer” overheard the conversation and tried to help out, while getting the first of the GOOD little boys and girls – the ones who WANTED to talk to Santa, lined up for their turn.

“Are you kidding me, Colton?? You aren’t going to talk to Santa?”

“Nah – maybe tomorrow. Besides, I don’t really want toys like the little kids. I want cool things, like a bluetooth for the PS3.”

“So you don’t think Santa makes those too?!?!”

“Yeah, it’s just that I’d rather come back tomorrow.”

I wondered if he really meant that. Or if, in a dark stroke of fate, it meant he deemed himself too old for the Santa stuff. To hear him talk about it, he’s the last true believer. But how can that be if he doesn’t want to go see him? Is the age of innocence over and gone? Never to return??

Well, maybe for him (although I’m holding out hope). As for me, I’m headed to Lexington Green to get a couple of last minute requests to Pere Noel. I’m no fool… Santa’s Coming!

Enter exhibit A. The coupon drawer. (You know you have one, too. Admit it. It will make you feel better.)

Oh, sure, I’ve tried those little pouches with a slot for all the dairy and all the frozen and all the meats and all the beverages. But the fact of the matter is, I still had no clue what coupons I possessed. Just because all dairy was in one slot, that cute little coupon organizer wasn’t helping my cause at all. And nine times out of 10, by the time I found that coupon that had been hiding from me, it was expired. Trust me. It’s easy to develop a hate-hate relationship with coupons.

Well, people, I’ve outdone myself on this one. I’ve come up with the B.E.S.T possible way to organize (one of the) biggest messes in my kitchen. A three-ring binder with clear business card or baseball card sheet protectors! (For those of you who’ve been utilizing this method for years, is it too much to ask you to give me a little moment in the sun, here?!?)

Time to check out my masterpiece! Can you stand it? Each little coupon gets its own spot, and is placed into a broad category:

• Produce
• Dairy
• Canned and packaged goods
• Meats
• Snacks
• Drinks
• Dairy
• Bakery
• Deli
• Cleaning products
• Personal hygiene
• Paper products
• Office supplies

This brainchild actually came from my friend Summer, so credit where credit is due. But I decided to take it to a whole new level. I’ve also inserted some full-sheet size protectors in the back to house take-out menus, and another protector to keep rebate offers, sales receipts and UPC codes.

But wait! There’s more! (This is where I wish we had a video blog here on Coffee Break…) You know those little pockets on the inside of the binder? Guess what goes in there? That’s right! Your SHOPPING LIST!

I am a genius I tell you. (Whatever. It’s Monday. Let’s just roll with it.) Total cost? $4.80 – $3.88 for the sheet protectors and .92 cents for the el-cheapo binder (find ‘em everywhere that offers a wide selection of school supplies – better yet, use an empty binder you already have on hand). Cost to regain my shopping sanity? Priceless, of course.

And while we’re on a roll, I thought I’d also give you my Coupon Commandments. Do with them as you will.

• If you see a coupon for a product you don’t like, don’t bother clipping it. Saving money on it will probably not make you like it anymore than you did before.
• If a coupon is for an item you usually don’t purchase, think long and hard before clipping and allowing it to take up space.
• Instead of clipping every coupon, refer to your new binder for coupons you already have. That way you won’t be stuck with seven coupons for bleach that all expire at the same time.
• If a coupon for toothpaste expires in a month and you just bought a case of toothpaste, chances are you aren’t going to use that coupon before it expires. So why waste time and space?
• Pay attention to out-dates on existing coupons as you clip. While you may want more than one coupon for certain products, if you can’t use more than one by the time it expires, don’t bother with it.
• If you use generic brands, and have a coupon for the name brand, make sure the coupon will actually save you more money versus buying the generic you always use.

Whew! Who can stand all this fun mixed in with a little bit of common sense? Now all I have to do is figure out how to put a cute little cover on this white binder! But that’s another post, entirely.

-Liz Follow @lizrants

• Are Ticonderoga really the best pencils? (Turns out that  yes, they are. And much to my child’s chagrin, mechanical pencils are still off-limits.)
• Does our county actually have a large enough stock to supply each child with one large bottle of hand sanitizer?
• Will this be the year we discover whether or not demerits are issued if we buy a 48-count box of crayons instead of the 96-count box?
• Is the request for a set of ear buds just a lead up to the near future, when the school list includes a nice laptop computer?
• Do we really have what it takes to make it through fourth grade while maintaining our sanity as a family?
• Would home-schooling really drive me that crazy?

As it turns out, some of these questions will be answered tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll be doing my nails while I wait to see how the back-to-school shopping trip goes. Because my dad, in a gutsy show of courage, offered to take my son and my nephew shopping. I say,  “never look a gift horse in the mouth”. And why bother telling Dad beforehand that while my nephew’s list has a whopping five items on it, my son’s list has 21 items. That’s right – 21 (twenty-one) items. And that’s just the list from the fourth grade in general. The individual teacher lists have yet to surface.

So maybe it’s time to tweak this year’s back-to-school questions, in honor of my dad’s unflinching bravery:

• Was his offer to supply shop a knee-jerk reaction? Or did he really think this one through?
• Will he be able to maintain his own sanity more than 45 minutes in?
• Will he tell stories of walking five miles to school, uphill both ways, in three feet of snow?
• Will he still be speaking to any of us after this male-bonding adventure?

I have the strangest feeling that my second set of questions will be much easier to answer than the first. I’m just sayin’.

-Liz Follow @lizrants

Which could be an issue I need to re-address. Because I’m a tad bit prone to royal screw-ups, when left to my own devices. Like when I texted a friend after the November elections, assuming (oh, that evil word, assuming) that since he’d just texted me a minute earlier, I need not bother to make sure the open text message was his. Except that it wasn’t – it was a tweet from my favorite weather dude, one of three people  whose tweets are stupidly set up to come in as a text message and a tweet. (Who could’ve set it up like that?!?) So off goes my stupid tweet to the world at large (oops). Enter paralyzing panic, followed by damage control. Could I delete the tweet? Or was I about to label myself “@Dumb%ss” for all Twitterdom to see?

Let’s just say it is with great thanksgiving that I tell you any tweet can be deleted. It is with equally great thanksgiving that I tell you there was nothing colorful or otherwise damning in my first Twitter gaffe. My biggest problem was the egg all over my face, and even eggs will come off with enough soap and water.

Of course, there was also my small snafu earlier this week, when I texted a friend/tweeted the world this little gem: “Colton is getting ready in his sleep, so we’re running a few minutes late.” Had I learned nothing in the last eight months?

It momentarily crossed my mind to pretend that Colton sent it out to begin with:

“Mom blames 10-year-old for tweeting to her tweeple.”

OK, so that tactic probably won’t work. Because I’m thinking a 10-year-old’s savvy in the world of new technology trumps a 48-year-old’s every time. No one would buy that one. The more accurate headline would probably look something like this:

“Mom banned from Twitter, son given complete control over account. Source says Mom is prime example of the dangers of newbie tweeters.”

Such a scenario would be uber-saddening to me. Gaffes aside, I love Twitter. I thoroughly enjoy the people I follow, and am thankful to have some really cool people who follow me, too. So in my best Scarlet O’Hara voice, I announce that tomorrow is another day. I will master Twitter, as God as my witness! I will build my followers, tweet more often and with great savoir-faire. I’ll do so not only with one, but with two Twitter accounts. And I’ll drag Kate into the madness, too! Which is why  I’ve taken the liberty of leading by example. So now all you tweeters can read my rants (and occasional raves) in 140 characters or less  – find me here! Of course, this serves two purposes. Not only will it be great fun to talk coffee break on Twitter, I’ll have a back-up plan. Just in case Twitter decides my tweeting gaffes are enough to ban me from my primary account

-Liz

God Bless America! Happy 4th!

I have a plethora of small flags in two different sizes. The larger ones are perfect for lining the driveway and sidewalk, the smaller ones really jazz up potted plants and smaller spaces. Big Lots and the Dollar Tree usually carry packages of soft mints, wrapped in the colors of Old Glory, Tootsie Roll puts out a patriotic Tootsie Pop, and if you’re lucky, you can find red, white and blue – and even camouflage-patterned M&Ms (swear it).

Of course you can also whip up a few all-American treats of your own. While I’m off to try my hand at some red, white and blue candle holders (made from tin cans, no less), here are two super-simple ideas to keep your crowd smiling on the Fourth!

Snow Cone/Shaved Ice Syrup:

• 2 cups white sugar
• 1 cup water
• 2 (0.13 ounce) packages unsweetened, fruit-flavored drink mix – any flavor

Stir together the sugar and water in saucepan. Bring to a boil, and boil for about 1 minute. Remove from heat, and stir in the drink mix. Allow to cool, and store in a container for pouring (those plastic ketchup/mustard/oil bottles are perfect). Pour over crushed or shaved ice. If you don’t have an ice-crusher,  you can buy pre-bagged ice pellets from Sonic (perfect!).

Kettle Corn:

• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup unpopped popcorn kernels

Heat oil in large pot over medium heat (you may want to make sure pot has a snug fitting lid . Add popcorn kernels and sugar, cover and shake pan constantly so the sugar doesn’t burn. Remove from heat when popping slows to 2-3 seconds between pops. Continue shaking for a bit longer to allow those stragglers to pop. Pour into bowl, add a bit of salt, if you’re crazy like we are, and stir gently to break up any clumps. Pop beforehand and take a bag along to your town’s 4th of July parade. You’ll have a great go-to snack for the family and save yourself a few bucks while you’re at it.

Enjoy!

-Liz

Related articles

• Happy Fourth of July – See How Stars Celebrate Independence Day! (popsugar.com)
• Don’t paint your nails, Mom – Liz’s rant (coffeebreakwithlizandkate.com)
• How-To: Cheery Fourth of July Garland (craftzine.com)
• Quick Fourth of July Crafts (craftzine.com)
• 4th of July Ideas – Part 2 – Recipes (nanhann.wordpress.com)

You probably also know this is another one of my rants in the making.

I initially pondered writing about this subject a few months ago, when a trip through the check-out line went downhill faster than an Olympic skier. My bill had come to $11.81. I handed the cashier $21.81. Quick, people – do the math. My change? An even ten-spot. $10. The cashier looked at me as if I’d lost my mind by daring to throw a wrench in the cash register, as it were (no, people – not a real wrench. Work with me, here). For the next few minutes, the line behind me grew, as the cashier tried to determine how much change to hand me. Had I not been so dumbfounded by her inability to do second-grade math, I’d have offered up the answer myself.

Thinking it was a one-time fluke, though, I quickly forgot about her challenge brought on by figuring out change. Until I was confronted with yet another numbers-challenged cashier over the weekend. My total? $4.24. So I handed her $10.25. Quick! What’s my change?? That’s right – $6.01. The cashier in question, of course, wasn’t that quick on the draw. In fact, she grabbed a piece of paper in an effort to figure out my change, and STILL couldn’t figure it out. Unable to  contain myself a moment longer, I spoke:

“Excuse me. The answer you’re looking for is $6.01…”

This from the same store that featured numerous “cute” tins, with things like “Bee Mine” and “Luv” and “Q-T-Pie” in the holiday aisle. It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor or patience for a play on words and the like, it’s simply that I’m really tired of products, businesses and services that spell their name – or product name – INCORRECTLY. Moreover, they do it on PURPOSE! If you think they don’t exist beyond the holiday candy aisle, think again. Here are a few examples that drive me batty:

• Kiddie Day Kare
• Road Kill Kafe (true story – saw the sign for myself several years ago)
• Rite-Aid
• Krispie Kreme

Even my 9-year-old asked why this restaurant purposely mis-spells its name:

• Chick-fil-A

Ok, Ok – enough is enough. I realize it may seem cute and all, but please!

Let’s move on to my brother and sister-in-law’s recent trip to a pizza place. A sign in the restaurant read that they now have a waitress – if you want to eat in, you just take a seat! If you’re carrying out, you proceed to the counter. Sounds simple enough, right?

It seems that after they’d taken a seat, it took a while for the waitress to show up.

“Are you guys eating in or ordering to go?”

“We’ll be eating in,” they told the waitress.

“Would you like something to drink.”

“Yes, that would be great.”

“Do you want to get your own drink, or would you like me to get it?”

(I’m already thinking this chick had no desire for a tip. Maybe she was just independently wealthy…)

“You can get our drinks for us,” they told her.

Next came the funniest:

“Do you know what you’d like?” the waitress asked.

“We’ll just have a medium pepperoni pizza.”

“We don’t have a medium.”

“OK. Well, what do you have?”

“We have a 17-inch, a 19-inch, and a 21-inch.”

Let’s think this through. They offer three pizzas. One is relatively small. Another is relatively large. The third is not small or large. Nope it’s somewhere right in the middle. Hmm… wait! Could it be… a medium?!?!

Clearly, in addition to a resurgence of the three R’s, we are in dire need of some CS – common sense!

Heavy sigh.

I could only hope for my brother’s sake that he was paying with a credit card.

-Liz

Liz, can we please take Krispy Kreme off the creative spelling hit list? The sheer deliciousness of the doughnuts more than makes up for the switching of “C” to “K”. I promise. Also, do you remember this guest rant from a Coffee Break reader: Guest Rant – My Head is Going to Explode, Literally ? She feels your pain.

Her fiance deployed overseas yesterday for what will likely be a seven-month tour.  Adam, who is a fantastic young man, is actively fighting to protect the freedoms you and I enjoy each and every day.

There’s something very special about those men and women who sacrifice their daily lives – and sometimes, life itself – to fight for the United States of America. It’s a job that only about 1 percent of our nation takes on. And while I know this  tour will be difficult for my daughter, she’s the lucky one in many ways.

She’ll go back to college this spring, hang out with her friends, go out to eat when and where she wishes to. She’ll be able to come home on weekends – even sleep in if she chooses.  She’ll be free to do as she so desires for the most part.

Adam, meanwhile, will not share that luxury. He’ll be in a war zone, in harm’s way. Not by force, but by choice. Needless to say, I’m proud of him beyond words.

Please take the time to remember the men and women who fight so selflessly to defend our freedoms. And if you see someone out in uniform, thank them for their service.

God speed, Adam.

-Liz

On the surface, the idea was a sheer stroke of genius. We’d get together before Christmas and can some very special homemade concoction, tying the jars with pretty ribbons and attaching homemade labels, wishing those lucky enough to receive such an inventive gift the merrriest of Christmases and most prosperous of new years. Apparently, that’s the magic of carrots.

Unless they can’t be canned in a water bath because they’re low in acid. That’s right. If you’re gonna can carrots, you need a pressure canner. Which is where the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished kicked in. There we stood, with 15 pounds of carrots and well, no where to go, if you will.

So after a bit of laughter, tinged with absolute self-loathing that we hadn’t thought this whole process through, we discussed plan B. The over-riding temptation was to forget the whole thing – crack open a couple bottles of wine and wallow in utter defeat. Or we could pick something else to can – something that didn’t require a pressure canner (where’s a good pressure canner when you need it??). In all honesty, we weren’t about to let 15 pounds of carrots defeat us…

We toyed with the idea of pickling the carrots with cucumbers and onions or whatever, quickly nixing that one. We discussed the prospects of a nice preserve, too. But that one was shot down as well. Of course, we returned to the wine drinking at several points as well, until we finally decided on salsa.

Our new idea meant a trip to the store, which Niki volunteered to do. I stayed back and started a batch of olive cheese balls (you’ll need a copy of In the Kitchen with Liz and Kate for that recipe, now won’t you? )

Ten pounds of tomatoes, 20 jalapenos, a dozen limes, a basket of cilantro, garlic and the biggest red onion I’ve ever seen later, we were ready. All we needed now was a partridge in a pear tree.

Luckily, fate smiled on the rest of our canning adventure, and in less than three hours, we had eight jars of the prettiest salsa you’ve ever seen. And for any of you out there wondering, it tasted pretty jolly good to boot!

There’s still the question of what we’ll do with the 15 bags of organic carrots. Suffice to say, Santa’s reindeer look to score in a big way…

-Liz

For example: Let’s take the country of Chile. As far as I’m concerned, Chile is pronounced just like that warm winter stew we all know and love – you know: chilly. But apparently the earthquake shook up things enough that all of a sudden it’s become known as Chil-ay. Rhymes with Oil of Olay. And it drives me crazy.

Tied for getting on my nerves the most is another phenomena: nouns that become verbs – or verbs that are used for things that they shouldn’t be. Prime example: I hate it when someone refers to “growing your business.” I mean, come on! It’s not like you add fertilizer and water. It’s a business. Not a garden. Sure, you can expand your business or increase your sales and the like, but when someone says they’re growing their business, it’s all I can do to keep from handing them a watering can and wishing them well.

It’s not just the word “grow” though. So as we close in on Christmas, I’d like to point out the new word usages that are making blood shoot out of my eyes

Let’s examine this word: Craft. Now when I say that word, what do you think of? Probably an item of some sort. You know, a thing. Something tangible. Here’s where this good word goes bad:

• “Why don’t you craft an ornament for your friend?”

See that? It changed from a noun to a verb. Bad, bad, bad. Why can’t people be satisfied with making an ornament? (Or whatever…) Or creating an ornament? Why must we now craft a… ummm…. craft?!

And another word whose new usage is driving me out of my tree: Gift. I think of gift, and again, I see a noun. As in a person, place or thing. A gift. As in, “I got the most useful gift for Christmas!”

But some people just can’t leave well enough alone, now, can they? Oh, no. Here are several examples of gift used in other ways:

• This cute sweater can be gifted with a nice scarf.
• These certificates can take care of all your gifting needs
• You’ll impress all your friends when you gift this candle.

Plus which, when someone says they’re gifting, what I hear is re-gifting. Which is probably where this whole thing started anyway, as the politically correct way of saying, “I’m too cheap to buy you a present so I’ll give you this thing that so-and-so gave me, and no one will be the wiser.”

Notice I said “I’ll give,” and not “I’ll gift.” And just so we’re clear, I guess we all know where I stand on the whole “re-gifting” thing, too…

-Liz