Partridge in a Pear Wee

 Fruit Basket Bounty Necklace

Punchy Produce Charm Bracelet

Top: Lily Star, Target

Skirt: Hollister, Marshalls

Shoes: Zulily

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Amazon

Belt: Marshalls

Yellow bracelet: Amrita Singh, Zulily

Barrette: The Tote Trove

It may not be the first day of Christmas.  Or even the second.  But I won't let that stop me from posting 1) my Christmas Day and two-days-after-Christmas-lunch-with-the-husband's-grandmother outfits or 2) my new fruit-themed jewelry.  Also, in case you hadn't noticed, in the first photo, I'm standing by a picture of -- yes, you see it -- fruit.

And now for something that doesn't involve actual fruit but is the color of a cartoon watermelon: this here elf.

I got him at Michaels for 70% off yesterday.  I'd been eyeing him up all season, trying to decide if he was cute or grotesque or somewhere in between.  For a supposed wee one, he made for a very large ornament.  "He's weird," I observed, turning him over in my hands, "but he's only $3."  "Well, then that's $3 worth of weird," said the husband.  As you know, weird always wins out with me.  I plunked him into my basket.

Now, you may be thinking that this is especially weird because my last post was about the (fictional) murder of the Elf on the Shelf.  But I assure you that this merry not-quite mite is in no such danger and is much safer at my house than he would be at Michaels (who knows what miscreants roam those aisles?).  Even if earlier today I noticed that the husband had moved him from his spot at the base of the fireplace to a new perch on the steps.  Then I moved him to the love seat to photograph him.  He's still there.  Let's see if the husband says anything.   

Aw, too late.  He came in not a minute ago with his knowledge all over his face.  And then, obvi, he saw me writing this.  Guess this kidnap-and-go-seek of a melony felony's over.  Wait.  Felony Melanie.  That was Reese Witherspoon's character's nickname in Sweet Home Alabama.  Which has nothing to do with anything.

Except . . . Melanie/Reese stealing from Michaels might make for a good movie.  I can see it now: Craft Crimes: When Bitches Get Stitches.  Only it would be "bitches" in an empowering way because Melanie/Reese would be lifting yarn and paint for creative geniuses in a women's shelter.  Get ready for a montage starring graffiti.  Also, a cameo from Bad Seed.

That's going to be my elf's stage name.   

Rhyme Time Crime: Merry Christmas

Well, it's Christmas again.  Which means that it's time for revelry and reflection.  Also, murder mysteries.  Because what's cozier than a good, old-fashioned tale of who bludgeoned old St. Nick with a candlestick?  It turns out, not much.  Just yesterday, I finished reading Murder for Christmas by Francis Duncan, and earlier this month, the husband and I saw the play "Murder for Two -- The Holiday Edition" in Cape May (hence these lovely outdoor house pics).  I guess that this tradition of festive foul play started the December I got my first period.  My mom went to the library and got me a book called Mistletoe Mysteries: Tales of Yuletide Murder to read while I was in bed with cramps (insert Krampus joke here?  Nah, skip it).  Since then, Christmas and crime -- and yuletide and the crimson tide -- have been, for me, intertwined. 

As they (sort of) say down at the precinct, if you can't do the time, don't do the rhyme.  Fortunately, I always have the time.  So here's a rhyme in the form of a poem that I call Christmas with Earl.

Christmas is colorful

Christmas is bold

Christmas distracts us 

From winter's dark cold.

That's why we send cards

And buy lots of things

And smile and join in

When tone-deaf Earl sings.

It's why we drink eggnog 

And choke down fruitcake

And re-gift a Snuggie

To Earl "by mistake."

It's why we go big

Or go home with our trees

And carol for strangers

In zero degrees.

The brighter the lights,

The lighter our hearts,

The richer the cheese ball,

The louder Earl's farts.

It's all about family

And friends far and near

And spending some time

With the the ones we hold dear.

So ignite the yule log 

And give Earl a hug

And say Merry Christmas,

You batty old lug. 

Afterword: The next morning, when the family gathered for breakfast, they discovered that Earl had strangled their Elf on the Shelf with his Snuggie.  The moral of this story?  Holidays or not, just say no to unwanted house guests.  

Also, don't ever give Snuggies.  

Have a very merry -- and very Earl free -- Christmas.