The Great King Family Gingerbread House Throwdown

I googled the word tradition. Among its definitions are descriptors like generations, long-standing, and customary. Can generations consist of merely the living or must it include deceased ancestors as well? How long is long-standing? How many times must an act be performed before it’s considered customary? What do we call an act that is immediately beloved and certain to stand the test of time? Is new tradition an oxymoron? Perhaps there is an appropriate word in another language besides English?

You see my dilemma, don’t you? I want to tell you about something that has only recently come about but is already part of Christmas folklore and ritual for the children of the King Girls and their growing families; yet, I don’t know what to call it. I want to call it tradition, but evidently, it is not. At least, not yet. I am going to borrow the word for this story, though, since I don’t know of another word to use. I sincerely hope my four faithful friends can forgive this indiscretion.

Like most traditions, no one planned it or even saw it coming. Like most traditions, it began as nothing.

2007

Emma stretched a ligament in her ankle at a practice for the vicious middle-school girls’ church basketball league. She had surgery over Christmas break to tighten it. Jordan Lee came to Dothan to cheer her. While grocery shopping, I picked up a marked-down gingerbread house. I thought the kids would have fun decorating it together, especially since Emma was housebound.

Emma was high on Lortab and dozing on the sofa when the other three decided to assemble the house. I smiled as I imagined the priceless image of my children and their precious college-aged cousin sharing a sweet—albeit forgetful—moment. Soon, their shouts woke me from my daydream. They were about to duke it out in the kitchen over whose turn it was to squeeze the icing! They cared deeply about whether or not to put icicles on the roof! They were not SHARING! They were COMPETING! In between licking their fingers, they were smack-talking each other over the placement of gumdrops!

2008

They had acted so mean to each other that we bought two gingerbread houses to diffuse the festive tension.

It didn’t really help.

Only Abby, Emma, and Jordan Lee participated in the "family bonding" activity. After their tempers cooled, we decided that everyone needed his/her own house, and if the kids insisted on arguing over this sugar-coated fun, then we needed to organize a competition.

2009

The Great King Family Gingerbread Throwdown officially began. We instituted a one-hour time limit, because some people (not naming names—or initials) would never be satisfied that her house was finished. Finger-licking and nibbling were allowed, expected even.

We bought four houses, because we assumed that only Abby, Emma, JL, and Ellen (newly married to Justin) would want to compete. When Jeremy and Phillip decided to join the battle, we formed teams. We knew that the climate would stay calmer if no siblings or significant others were allowed to work together. Jeremy/Phillip and Abby/Ellen teamed up. JL and Emma are too much alike, and everyone agreed it would be best if each girl decked her own halls. Each team was given an equal amount of candy and icing. Leftovers were put in the center of the table in a free-for-all pile.

Emma’s house repeatedly collapsed. We ameliorated the rules to ensure that everyone had a partner the next year to help with construction.

Justin was the judge. He was not allowed to watch the event and was not allowed to know which house belonged to which team. While purposefully attempting to pick his new wife’s decor, he unknowingly chose the Jeremy/Phillip collaboration as the winner over his bride’s house. The rules were amended on the spot to have an outside-the-family judge for the following year.

2010

Emma/Ellen created a beautiful church-like Hershey bar door. Justin/Abby put a hot tub on the outside of their house, complete with a melting snowman. Jeremy/Phillip attached a fireplace with shredded Brillo pad smoke curling from it. JL/Celeste were the winners! I crafted a window with homemade curtains from a cupcake liner, and JL made a jolly snowman out of Life Savers Wint-O-Green Mints.

Ellen’s mom, Janey, was the judge. She grasped the seriousness and importance of the task and performed like the professional crafter she is. Still, she had a conflict of interest.  

New rules:

1)     An impartial judge

2)    All items must be edible and only items on the table may be used. No running all over the house for stuff.

3)     Since every team added something delightful, we initiated one Best All Around and smaller, individual awards to recognize creativity and to encourage good behavior.

2011

We purchased extra icing and candy from the dollar store, drew names for partners, and set up partitions to block each other’s view. Jeremy enlisted two friends to be our judges. They were organized and official. They came with notebooks and pencils in hand. We left the room to allow them to confer with each other in privacy. We overheard them whisper comments such as:

I really like the candy canes on this one.

Cute! A pretzel fence!

What is that? (Evidently tasted it.) Yuck!

Ellen was pregnant with Lydia. We think her hormones gave her an unfair advantage. But how could we prove it?

Ellen/Phillip – Best All Around

Emma/JL –Best Use of Resources

Abby/Jeremy – Most Random

Justin/Celeste – Most Creative (Our ribbon-candy roof rocked!) 

Justin, Abby, and I won a 3-way tie for best attitudes. The rest didn’t really care about their attitudes.

Our new rule for next year was to assemble the house before the clock begins. That way, the entire hour could be spent festooning. 

2012

Angie was finally able to come to view the rivalry for herself; however, Justin and Ellen couldn’t be there when everyone else could. Emma had the perfect solution: they would Skype with us and be our long-distance judges. (I know this breaks the impartial judge rule, but they would be fair, and we wanted them to be “with” us. And it was our rule to begin with. We could break it if we wanted to.)

We only played three houses. JL was a newlywed, and Jeremy had a girlfriend. The newbies got thrown into the brouhaha. Since one rule is no significant others can be partners, we put the newbies on the same team. I wanted to hang with Angie and Lydia instead of being half a team, so we put Phillip with the newbies to guide them. He was the best anyway, having already won twice.

Peyton and Katy were schooled in the rules. Peyton pulled me aside and asked if he could have a hammer. It wasn’t on the table (a rule), but it obviously wasn’t going on the house (a rule). This was iffy, but Peyton is adorable. I made the call to allow it. We didn’t tell the others. He put some peppermint in a baggie and stepped outside to crush it. He sprinkled it on the roof of his house. His bride argued in favor of his beheading—or his elimination, at the very least.

She needn’t have worried. The JL/Abby team won Best All Around. JL’s peppermint fireplace was spectacular, and Abby’s cute Rolo mailbox pushed them over the top. Emma/Jeremy had a great Twizzler fence. The candles in the windows of the Phillip/Peyton/Katy house were warm and charming.

2013

Although the competition has always been held at Starla’s house, the location is not part of the tradition, nor is the date. Starla likes to hold it before Christmas, because she enjoys using the bright and colorful gingerbread houses to adorn her own house for the holidays. She has saved them a time or two for the following year, and they hold up pretty well in her cool, damp basement. This year, we are not going to be able to be together until after Christmas. But location and date are just details. As more weddings are held and more babies are born, the act of gathering will become more difficult. The day might come where July 4^th sees fireworks exploding outside the house and within it as well. If Independence Day were to be the best day for us to celebrate being an extended family, so be it.

Even then, we’ll be plotting and planning the most appropriate use of red and green M&Ms. Hopefully, we’ll be fussing about it until the Great King Family Gingerbread House Throwdown becomes true to the word tradition.

On your mark . . . get set . . . DECORATE!

On Thanksgiving

I am thankful that the act of giving thanks helps me to loosen my grip on my self-pity and pride.

I am thankful for a store-bought turkey dinner enjoyed by Conners in pajamas during an internet-free weekend at the Kings' Inn at Lake Eufaula, Alabama. I am thankful for quality time spent with Charlie Brown, Andy Griffith, the Heck Family, and all the members of the Fellowship of the Ring.

I am thankful for the memory of Mama’s fried pork chops and pound cake. I am thankful that she taught me to love Jesus and my husband, to laugh loudly, and to not be a whiner.

I am thankful for bedtime giggles, back tickles, and plastic pink flamingos. 

I am thankful for chocolate. I am thankful for peanut butter. I am thankful for Reese's Cups. 

I am thankful for Amazing Grace—the gift and the song.

I am thankful for words like oxymoron, redundant, and onomatopoeia.

I am thankful for taxes and car payments and college expenses.

I am thankful for Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.”

I am thankful for the smell of butterbeans cooking. I am thankful for the anticipation that the smell brings.

I am thankful that Chickfila makes yummy chicken noodle soup, which kept Emma fed through four jaw surgeries in four years. I am thankful for friends who share food whenever life is especially complicated.

I am thankful that Daddy said, “Lemme get my hat” whenever he was ready to go. I am thankful that he said, “I got a bone in my leg” when he didn’t want to get his hat.

I am thankful for priceless family heirloom jewelry.

I am thankful for "peaceful dwelling places, secure homes, and undisturbed places of rest." (Isaiah 32:18ish)

I am thankful for Johann Gutenberg. 

I am thankful for four healthy pancreases and one high-tech insulin pump.

I am thankful for Sunday Dinner with Beloveds. 

I am thankful for bunnies and yarn, drumsticks and Rubik’s Cubes, American Pickers and Doctor Who.

I am thankful that I like to go to church.

I am thankful for the smell of a sweet shrub. It reminds me of Little Granny. She always sang, "Oh it isn't any trouble just to S-M-I-L-E," especially when you were having a little trouble.

I am thankful for a long ago romance at summer camp with a guitar picker.

I am thankful for routine. I am thankful for breaks in routine. I am thankful to get back into routine.

I am thankful for football. I don't care about the details of the game. I don't care about passes and punts and interceptions. I love the pageantry. I love the colors and the traditions, and I love the bands. I love good-natured rivalries and that people are passionate about their team. I guess I'm kinda like a vegetarian at Thanksgiving. I know that folks gathered for the turkey—and I'm glad they did, but I'll just have the fixin's.

I am thankful for those who escaped the fires—literally and figuratively. I am thankful that "When you walk through the fire you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." (Isaiah 43:2)

I am thankful for road trips. 

I am thankful for the intersection of Hwy 231 and Hwy 84 and the Circle that surrounds it.

I am thankful for black and white photos.

I am thankful for rhyme,
'Cause most of the time
A cheerful couplet will make me smile
For a while.

When my smile turns upside-down
Into a frown,
I remember my Ancient Friend
And smile again.

I am thankful for a son who spouts Words of Wisdom like, “Never call a woman fat to her face.”

I am thankful for small-town America, musical theater, and naps.

I am thankful for hot baths, warm flannel Mickey Mouse jammies, and cold chocolate milk. (That may look like three separate things, but it's not.)

I am thankful that "his compassions never fail. They are new every morning." (Lamentations 3:22-23) I am thankful that I get another chance today.

I am thankful that I had two babies at the same time.

I am thankful that I can count my daughters, my sisters, and my nieces as my girlfriends, too.

To quote Chuck’s Beloved Nana, "I can’t think of a thing that I’m not thankful for." (Well, except roachie-bugs. But I AM thankful for the funny/scary stories that Little Granny used to make up—when we were sleeping on the floor!—about the Monster and the Roachie-Bug. I think the Roachie-Bug was scarier than the Monster. Presently, I am thankful for the enthusiasm that Biscuit has about killing the wretched satanic spawn and the satisfaction she shows in herself when they stop kicking.)

I am thankful that I was taught gratitude as a child. It makes finding ways to give thanks as an adult much less difficult.

She Hates Jane Austen, and I Don't Care

Intro

The blogger bylaws state, “To be a Big-Time Blogger (BTB), one must occasionally host a guest writer.” Today, I am proud to introduce to you one of my All-Time Favorite Writers (ATFWs), Abby Conner. It is merely coincidence that she shares my last name and 50% of my DNA.

Background

When Abby was a senior in high school, her AP English teacher told her students about a writing competition. She promised 50 bonus points for any student who submitted an essay. It was 2^nd semester, and Abby wanted to ensure she held on to her A (and she rarely, if ever, turns down an opportunity for extra points, however unnecessary). The contest rubric required a 1000-word persuasive paper. There were many constraints to grammar, yada yada, but no subject rules. Words like argument, original, and passion were used.

Abby was considering writing about why digital textbooks should replace hard copies. I yawned and told her that was boring. I said something to the effect of, “Anybody can write about that, and lots of people will. Why don’t you give the judges a break from the monotony and ‘Abby-it-up?’ What is something that you are truly passionate about?”

“How much I hate Jane Austen.”

Well, I love curling up with a Jane Austen book. I delight in every delicious detail in her dialogue. I adore every quirky character she has created. Abby had met Miss Austen through a few movies and didn’t hate her at first. She watched the A&E Pride and Prejudice miniseries, and she appreciated my sincere devotion to Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. She didn’t mind Persuasion, if only because the actor who portrayed Captain Wentworth was also Alberforth Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2. And she can still be made to belly laugh if you yell, “PORK!” at her, like Miss Bates yells at her mother, Mrs. Bates, in Emma.

To Abby, a voracious reader, studying Jane Austen in school was particularly tedious and painfully insipid and made her want to poke her own eye out with a pencil.

I responded, “GREAT IDEA! You can be persuasive, funny, and perhaps a tad tongue-in-check, like Miss Austen. Even Miss Austen would appreciate those qualities."

So, Abby wrote the paper. She worked all weekend on the paper. She turned the paper into the teacher. The teacher handed the paper back to Abby and informed her that she could not enter it into the contest, because her arguments were “misguided” and “illogical.” The teacher told her the paper looked like she had spent 30 minutes on it. She denied Abby the bonus points that she awarded to everyone else (except to the student who turned his essay in late), and she would not accept corrections from Abby, while encouraging the other students to make them.

At this point, Mama told Abby, “Most of your battles, I will not fight for you. But this one is mine.”

I appealed to the teacher:

Abby spent hours on this paper, not merely 30 minutes. She spent the entire Saturday before it was due writing and rewriting it. To do something halfhearted is against Abby’s nature. If she was not going to attempt to do a good job, she would not have attempted the paper at all. (As Yoda says, “There is no try. There is do or do not.”) Regardless, the requirement was for 750 to 1200 words. Time was not a requirement. 

She responded:

Abby is more than welcome to submit what she wrote to the essay contest through another teacher. No problem. However, she did not fulfill the assignment and I do not want my name on such a paper. The extra credit that I offer is at my discretion. 

Abby was out of class taking the AP Biology mock exam on the day the rough drafts were returned. Without naming Abby’s name, the teacher talked about her paper in front of the class. A friend in the class tattled to the Twin Sister.

Mama had had Enough.

For only the second time in my then-cumulative 34-year career as a mom of a student, I protested to the principal. 

I wrote:  
This is not fair. Abby has never been anything but a good student. She has always done whatever is expected from her for any teacher for 13 years. Mrs. [AP Biology teacher's name] wrote a scholarship reference for her for and said, "Personally, I have found Abby to be one of the finest young women I have ever taught." She has over a 3.8 GPA. She took 2 AP classes last year and is taking 2 this year. Such utter disregard and disrespect from a teacher is unfathomable to me.

He replied:
This is not a decision that I would consider administratively changing, but he did find another teacher to help Abby edit her paper. She was kind and encouraging, and they worked on it together through several re-writes.

By now, Abby was physically sick from the stress. She asked me to drop it. And I did. For a season. But now I have a blog. And I want to post the paper.

The Troublesome Paper

The Agony of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice

When I came home and told my mother that the next required reading for school was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, she became giddy and exclaimed that she loves Jane Austen. She squealed that she owns the A & E mini-series starring Colin Firth. She excitedly popped the corn. The ensuing six hours were the worst of my life. I have now watched the movie and read the book. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen should not be required school reading, because the morals portrayed in the book are not in accordance with the standard of today’s society and the book contains no real substance

In Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, the main occupation of women is husband hunting, and according to the book, they began hunting around sixteen years old and were considered old maids if they were not married by mid-twenties. This gives the wrong idea to both genders. Young men get the idea that all young women do is look for a spouse. Young women get the idea that if they are not seeking a husband, then they will have failed in their duty to their family. Their mothers throw them in the way of every bachelor who takes notice of them.

This out-of-balance relationship is critical in today’s society, because far too many young women find their security in a relationship with a male. Ideally, this security would come first with the young woman’s father and then with her relationship with God and herself. However, when the foundation is not there, young women often turn to young men for the stability they crave, whereas the men often struggle to grasp this need. Requiring young women to read Pride and Prejudice further reinforces the idea that they need a husband to be complete.

The idea of marriage for money is also a moral issue that is poisoning the minds of those who are forced to read Pride and Prejudice for school. If a man was proposing to a woman today and said, “I have good connections and money, so you should marry me,” the woman could out-earn him and make him regret his words. By placing Pride and Prejudice in front of students and saying “read it,” the school could be perceived as endorsing the idea that the only thing that is important in life is money and the most respectable way to get it is through marriage. According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, the characters are “imprisoned in their wretched conventions of English society, without genius, wit, or knowledge of the world. Never was life so pinched and narrow. . . . All that interests any character: has he (or she) the money to marry with? . . . Suicide is more respectable.”

In today’s society, hard work is respected and a good job is desired. Marrying for money in the 21^st century would seem desperate and foolish and an admirable man or woman would feel cheated and used. A point could be made that women had few other choices in the 19^th century. However, the more money the man inherited, the more attractive he seemed and the more the mothers sought him out for their daughters, oftentimes regardless of his character.

Pride and Prejudice should not be required reading, because it is a book without substance. The book tells the story of the five Bennet sisters who exist to attend balls and drown in drama, while their mother desperately seeks husbands for them. The story contains no obstacles to overcome, no lessons to be learned, no revelation at the end of the book. The only noteworthy situations are the proposals to Elizabeth by both Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy. The long-winded and irksome Mr. Collins’s proposal is more of a business transaction. Elizabeth’s rejection stuns him. He proposes to Elizabeth’s best friend a few days later, and his proposal to Elizabeth is quickly forgotten. In Mr. Darcy’s disrespectful and disgraceful proposal, he insults Elizabeth and then asks for her hand in marriage. When Elizabeth refuses, he, likewise, is stunned and resolves to himself to make her see him for who he is. He hopes that she will one day find him favorable. Although this might seem eventful in one paragraph, spread over three volumes and sixty-one chapters, Pride and Prejudice is mind-numbing. Mark Twain agrees. He said, “[Austen’s] books madden me so that I can’t conceal my frenzy from the reader; and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone.”

An argument could be made that Pride and Prejudice is a perfect picture of 19th-century society and that the book should be required reading for all seniors, because it teaches the students about how life was two centuries ago. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre was published thirty-four years after Pride and Prejudice. She wrote about the original crazy woman in the attic. Jane Eyre is exciting and mysterious. Bronte said that Pride and Prejudice is “An accurate daguerreotyped portrait of a commonplace face; a carefully fenced, highly cultivated garden, physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck.” Bronte basically said that Pride and Prejudice is boring.

One of the reasons Pride and Prejudice is revered by many is because of Austen’s satirization of the 19th century lifestyle. Satire is the use of irony or sarcasm in writing to ridicule human folly. Austen’s work is satirical to the citizens of the 19^th century because, in the 19^th century, it was significant to life. The satire is lost on those born and raised in the 21^st century. If Austen were taken out of the 19^th century and placed into this one, she could not understand a political cartoon about abortion or legalization of gay marriages. Twenty-first century residents can laugh at the humor because it relates to the struggles the world is facing every day, right here, right now. Austen would look at the cartoon, scratch her head, give up trying to understand it, and walk away. Students are not able to walk away; their grade depends on satire that they cannot grasp, no matter how hard they try.

Pride and Prejudice is a tedious book that has no relevance to our 21^st century lives. It does not make us wiser; it does not make us kinder. The imposed requirement of the book usurps the escape from reality that one should experience when reading. My mother read the book of her own free will, and she loves it; I was forced to read it, and I despise it. Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice should not be required school reading, because nothing happens and the morals portrayed are bad influences on today’s society, and today’s society has enough of those.

Conclusion

Abby was denied the 50 bonus points that she worked for. If you have stayed with me this far, will you please “like” this on Facebook, "favorite" it on Twitter, or offer a positive comment on Blabberings? I want her to receive 50 genuine thumbs ups. That’s way better than 50 begrudged points.

Oh, and she made an A in the class anyway.