Christmas - Articles - Zimbio

Mele Kalikimaka Aloha from Across the Pacific

Tue, 28 May 2008 12:20:00 GMT

posted by Going2Oahu

You know how the song goes...

Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawian Christmas Day
That's the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you

Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you

Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawian Christmas Day
Thats the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night
Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry christmas a
very merry christmas , a very, very, merry,merry Chistmas to youuuuuuuuuu

Ahhh... Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters...

It's not Christmas time yet, but I did figure out what I'm going to do about Christmas Cards this year - found a website that will personalize photo Cards for me so that I can send my Aloha with some custom text and a photo of my Shih-Tzus on the inside. I plan to use the one that's pictured above, but they have over 1100 others too - hard to decide.

I'm kind of a Christmas nut, not sure if I have ever told you that before, so I have a huge list of people that I send Christmas cards to. I figure that about everyone I know is worth the 42 cents it costs for a stamp so I go a little... er... card crazy during the season. The CardsDirect website lets me order online cards with my own message and my photo choice on the inside.

Would you like to be on my Christmas card list? The first 10 e-mails will make my Christmas card list, and will receive a 2008 Hawaiian greeting. Send e-mails to aloha@going2oahu.com.

Aloha ~

Ali

Cheap Christmas Stocking Stuffers For A Man With An iPod.

Sat, 18 Nov 2007 23:57:21 GMT

posted by peter1

iPods are hot at the moment, both as Christmas gifts and generally. If he hasn't got an iPod then buy him an iPod for Christmas.

But if he does already have an iPod then you've got all your Christmas gift ideas for him right there. iPod accessories.

There's so many great iPod accessories available, any one of them would make a nice (and cheap) Christmas gift idea.

Here's some great iPod accessories at surprisingly good prices. Some are quite cheap so they would make some cheap Christmas stocking stuffers if you're going to make a Christmas stocking for him.So why not get him a complete suite of iPod accessories?

iPod nano tubes. 5 great colors. Yes you get all 5, and they are good cases, giving him full click wheel control from outside the case. $8.77

An iPod dock. Allows him to charge and sync to his computer and connect to his home audio system. $8.99An iPod armband. For the seriously fitness obsessed man. Allows him to jog or workout and listen all at the same time. $9.77

An iPod belt clip. Allows him to keep his iPod on his belt at work rather than throwing it in his bag, so he doesn't run the risk of losing it. 99 cents

All are available at Macmall, the number 1 Apple direct reseller.

Now if you're a little surprised at how cheap those prices are don't be. They are about as cheap as you can get for Apple products, and if you're looking for inexpensive Christmas gifts and considering any Apple products, or accessories for Apple products, then Macmall is a great place to start. Just start by comparing their prices with any other prices you have found.

They have extremely competitive prices, that's probably why they are number 1. And their prices aren't just good for accessories, if you're thinking of getting him an iPod for Christmas then you can't do better than Macmall.

Or for iPhones or any other Apple products either.

And if you're looking for Christmas gifts then why not check out some of my other suggestions for mens Christmas gifts.

A Christmas Miracle in Colombia

Fri, 22 Dec 2007 07:46:00 GMT

posted by beckychr007

This is my Christmas gift to my readers and friends. I am sorry it is so long. I generally value brevity, but could not edit this one any more. I know it sounds pretentious, but I hope by sharing this, I can give each of you a little of what God gave me that Christmas in the Andes.

It all started when I decided to take a year off from my post-graduate studies and went down with some friends to do a little climbing in the Andes. It had been a good trip.

At the time, for a number of reasons, I was kind of estranged from my family. Besides my deep love for these mountains, this was my reason for being there.

Christmas was just a few days away. My friends had left. I could have flown home in time, but I had already missed the two-month buildup to Christmas. Arriving now, with the holiday peaking, might give me the Christmas equivalent of the bends. I’d be coming up way too fast. So I drifted into the mountains of Colombia instead.

Overseas travel at Christmastime is an excellent way of forgetting yourself .I opened a map of Colombia and picked a tiny village on the shores of Lake Gumues (also known as Laguna de la Cocha). I decided that whatever Christmas was at this little place, that’s what Christmas would be for me,. There would probably not be any American expatriates around this time of year. Just me and whatever.

In Bogotá I rented a car and scored some real cheap coke.

Then headed off for the village.

It was December 23. The Indian innkeeper asked me if I planned on staying through Christmas. And then, looking over my shoulder, he inquired how many were in the party. I am quite certain it was more than unusual for a young American girl to show up alone in this remote place.

“You are our only guest,” the innkeeper, whose name was Guillermo, told me. As he took me down the hallway to my room, I passed a little fire in the stone fireplace and wooden Christmas ornaments on the mantle. I saw unlit Christmas candles, thick and red and half-used, scattered throughout the inn.

Once in my room I unpacked and did a couple of lines, which helped take away a bit of the loneliness and guilt. Through the window, a liquid flaming sun was sinking toward the surrounding mountain peaks.

So I headed outside and followed a short path from the inn to the edge of the lake. The dark blue surface was cradled by forested mountains, which looked blond in the waning light. I passed ponchoed Indians in bowler hats. A young boy with braided hair carried a panpipe as he herded llamas along the shore.

I took a seat and watched as a series of final, awesome sunbeams fell to earth.

I'd read how a powerful medicine man had created this lake and these mountains from the bodies of a feuding husband and wife . The result is absolute peace for all who live there. I could feel it.

A stillness spread through my body. Nearby, a farmer was harvesting potatoes from the black earth and humming a familiar tune. I listened. I recognized the song. Noche de Paz. (Silent Night).

Walking back to my room I decided I was not hungry. But I had my usual stash of Coca Cola. So I spent the evening in my room sipping it and imbibing in Colombia’s national product, while attempting to read some old Spanish language magazines.

The morning before Christmas I awoke to the sound of cows being milked outside my room. From my bed, I looked outdoors through a badly cracked window. Through an explosion of sunlight I saw Guillermo.

He was sitting in the distance on a stool, humming, milking a cow right into a metal bucket. I had never seen that before—except at the county fair. He wore the same clothes he had on the night before -- old canvas pants and a llama-wool sweater. These are the only clothes he ever wore during my entire stay.

I went out and Guillermo handed me a steaming cup of just-made Colombian coffee. He added cream straight from the cow and the result was heavenly.

Outside, the weather had warmed quickly in the dreamlike sunshine. The lake below us was a giant mirage of reflected light. Most striking were the flowers. They grow wild. They grow everywhere. They climb along the stone walls of the inn and up toward the Spanish tile roof, offering their nectar to dozens of red and green hummingbirds.

December is the start of summer in that part of the world.

I told him I was going for a long walk along the lake. But before I left, he told me again that I was the inn’s only guest. In fact, he said, there had never been a guest at Christmastime in the 25-year history of the establishment.

For hours I wandered along the grassy bluffs beside the lake. I saw more llamas and several herons. I stumbled across a shrine beside the lake. It was devoted to the region’s patron saint, Nuestra Senora de Lourdes. It was completely deserted. I sat for a long time just thinking. And then I tried to pray. For some reason all I could do was recite Hail Marys and other similar prayers that I could, and probably do, recite in my sleep. But, that day I felt an obligation and need to pray, and I said countless decades of the Rosary—counting them off on my fingers.

It was getting dark when I returned to the inn. For the first time I met Guillermo’s kids. They came into the inn carrying eggs and milk from a barn out back. There was a young girl around the age of seven or eight, an adolescent girl, and a boy that looked to be 16 or 17.

My boots and socks were wet from my hike, so I placed them by the fire to dry. I joined Guillermo on a long bench and pulled up close to thaw myself in the warmth of the flames. But seeing my socks hanging down from the mantel, I felt a deep stab of homesickness. My eyes welled up as I described for Guillermo the tradition of stockings being filled by Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

He told me that no such stocking tradition existed in Colombia. Then he gave me a fatherly look. “Why are you not home now?” he said. “Home with people you know? Then you could have this tradition.”

The truth was I was not completely sure, and my Spanish was inadequate to explain it anyway. So I basically told him I was very very happy to be there. He seemed to accept this and told me how his family was Catholic and Christmas was very special to them. He was pleased to find out I was Catholic as well. He told me they did have Santa Claus in Colombia, but that he did not come to their house.

Now I was feeling sad, for someone besides myself.

He explained that Colombia was a poor country. And that he, even though he owned an inn, was still a poor man. When his children had been young he had been unable to buy them Christmas gifts. So his children apparently knew of Santaclós . They just thought he never stopped at their house.

So, giving him the same respect he did me, I did not say anything more about it.

I could hear and smell cooking from the kitchen. I asked if I could order something. This seemed to strike him as funny. He told me there was no menu tonight—for I was a guest of the family.

It had grown completely dark and I slipped out to get a little air along with a bit of coke. The Andean sky was beautiful. Christmas Eve had arrived in full with billions of bright stars, illuminated as they only can be in Alpine places.

Around 9 p.m., at a table set up by the fireplace, we sat down to eat. Guillermo’s oldest daughter had been doing all the cooking. I still had not seen Guillermo’s wife, and there was no place set for her. I sensed a sad story behind this and decided to keep my mouth shut.

I surveyed the table and am incredulous. Each plate was covered with a thick bed of yellow rice and a large, roasted chicken breast covered with a sticky sweet sauce. It is a fantastic feast by this family’s meager means. It crossed my mind that perhaps I had never been offered a more valuable gift.

Guillermo said a short prayer, and we began eating. The chicken was wondrous, and the accompanying red wine was decent. Dessert was a bowl of very sweet white-bean soup eaten only at Christmastime in Colombia. When I compliment Guillermo’s daughter on her cooking, she shrugged modestly. “These are recipes our mother taught me many years ago.”
There was sadness in her voice. And again, I said nothing.

After the dinner the little girl asked me to tell a Christmas story from America. Most of the ones I know end with a big avalanche of gift giving. I had pretty much figured out that was not going to happen around there—so I wanted to stay clear of those kind of tales.

Instead I told her a lame story from my childhood. It hardly ever snows in the lowlands of Western Washington, where I grew up. One year my sister became convinced that an angel had promised her that this Christmas Eve it would snow. Everyone tried to dissuade or prepare her for disappointment. But she was convinced this angel had made the promise. Well—it did snow on Seattle and surrounding areas that Christmas Eve—the first time in fifty years or something like that.

The little girl told me the unusual snowfall was un milagro—a miracle. I agreed and opined un milagro happened because my sister really wanted snow. She told me that miracles do happen at Christmastime if you really want them to—this is what her father had told her.

Guillermo interrupted her and said “No, I only said that a miracle did happen to me once because I wished for it.”

I looked at Guillermo quizzically. “Come,” he said “The children know this story. I will tell you outside while they clear the table.”

We went out into the sparkling night air, and the stars were even more lustrous than before. Whole galaxies were visible, cloudlike and full of mystery. As we walked toward the lake I felt happily full of food, cocaine and wine—and enjoyed listening while he talked.

“I tell you this story because, without it, you would have no place to stay tonight,” he began. “Twenty-five years ago I had nothing. No money. No job. In these mountains, it’s hard to find work. My dream was humble: to have a little farm and a place for travelers to stay.”

He told me how twenty-five years ago on Christmas Eve they were visiting his wife’s family in Bogotá:

Her brother was very drunk and he was helping walk him home. As he was doing so he saw, a pile of money off to the side of a road. It was a huge amount of money to Guillermo—around 10,000 pesos (which I think is around $500). He told me he took it. He had never seen so much money and that for three days he watched the place to see if anyone would come looking for it.

As we walked back toward the inn I could see that the fire had died down to embers. Guillermo told me that with the money he bought a cow and the materials to build the inn.

This was his Christmas miracle.

The story left me strangely bewitched. But, I was getting tired so we both wished each other Feliz Navidad.

The next morning I arose very early. I could not resist going down and skinny-dipping underneath the stars. When I got back a fire had been started and I heard noises coming from the kitchen. They served me a Christmas breakfast of coffee and a sweet, fried bread called bunuelo.

Later, Guillermo brought in an old transistor radio and tuned in a Christmas Mass. We sat around and went through the gestures, even genuflecting at the appropriate points. I did the best I could to mouth the Spanish liturgy.

There was no Christmas tree present and no sign of gift giving. Nor was there the inevitable Christmas Day let down that I was so used to.

The day was a leisurely one and I spent it with the family. I helped the older daughter in the kitchen, and played with her little sister. I talked some more with Gulliermo as he chopped wood and tried to help his son with homework. Later there was another fabulous meal. The family was happy that day. I was thinking how perhaps less was really more—Christmas stripped to its core. I actually felt fully present for the holiday for the first time in a while.

But I couldn’t shake old habits. I’d never gone through a Christmas without giving gifts. But I had already shipped most of my stuff home, and was traveling light. The only thing I really had was some cash in my wallet. And there was no mall around.

The next morning I went to settle my bill. Guillermo gave me a bill for approximately $20. None of the food had been included. I gave him the equivalent of $100, intending that as my gift. But he promptly returned it. I told him to please take it—it was a gift and a tradition in my country.

Before I could protest more, Guillermo commented that I had probably noticed his wife wasn’t there. He told me that she had to take a job in a distant village and could not get home for Christmas. And then he explained how since I was also away from home and they took care of me, perhaps that meant someone took care of her as well.

I was saying goodbye to the kids, when he interrupted again.

“Don’t you see? We weren’t expecting you. You were our Christmas miracle.”

My head turned away, so he could not see the tears streaming down my face.

I was ready to go home.

How To Choose Corporate Christmas Gifts

Wed, 15 Nov 2007 07:59:18 GMT

posted by pkmcr

Gift are given according to occasions. When you want to buy a gift, you take into consideration the person you are gifting, your relationship with the person and the appropriateness of the gift according to the celebration. Especially when the receiver is not very close to you or has only non-personal links with you, you have to be careful. Gifts such as corporate Christmas gifts have to be thought about to make the proper impact. With little effort you can give a good impression as well as please the other person.

Most common corporate Christmas gifts are Gift baskets. You have a variety of baskets to choose from ranging from cookie bouquets, gourmet baskets or gift boxes. With careful attention to wrapping, the baskets can be given a festive yet formal look. There are many retailers in the market that provide such facilities and can even deliver your baskets as per your requirements. Sometimes, the baskets may follow themes or color schemes to make them more lively looking. Keeping in mind your client or employer, a good branded bottle of fruit wine with other treats like Christmas pudding, tarts and chutneys make a good option. Branded baskets like those with Royal Champagne, wine classics or vintage wine are stylish and impressive and can be given to corporate partners or employers to make an impression.

Very Virginia Christmas Basket - One Size

There are a lot of options for corporate Christmas gifts for promotional purposes. Christmas gifts can be used effectively with the corporate logo to promote advertising and marketing of the firm. Firms gift Crystal Glassware items, leather products, Golf tournament gifts or promotional flags and banners with the firm logo printed on it. Pen sets also give a good impression. They are easy to afford and can be given to all the office members.

For your employees, online gift certificates are the best deal. They make the prefect corporate gift. Send them their gift certificates and allow them to choose for themselves. Freedom vouchers can never go wrong. Money Vouchers can be given according to the post and seniority level of the employee.

Building good relationships with customers, clients and employees is a must for enhancing corporate prospects. The easiest way is to show some consideration and demonstrate to your customers that they are valuable to you. corporate Christmas gift are the easiest and best ways to make relationships stronger. Simply with special attention to a corporate gift, a lasting impression can be made and make your corporate do better.

Christmas Morning Breakfast Basket - One Size

Business Christmas Gifts, Corporate Christmas Gift, Father Christmas

Sexy Shorts For Christmas

Thu, 21 Dec 2007 08:42:00 GMT

posted by beckychr007
I
I've had a lot of time to blog the last few days. School is out. I don’t have any shopping to do, since everyone in my family has been naughty.

However, I'm afraid I may have been a bit naughty. I was going through my digital clutter and found out I may have been tagged for some Christmas memes, which I blew off. I know Sudie Girl sent me one, but now I can't figure out what I was suppose to do. Please let me know before Santa does the final draft of his list.

I've been composing a tearjerker about the Christmas I spent in Columbia. It is LONG, but I may post it this weekend. The post will be well worth your time, if you like those sappy sweet Yuletide tales. If you have a good one on your blog let me know. If you are too chicken to post it, send it to me. It will be posted here (anonymity assured under fear of a lawsuit).

I bring all this up cos I may not have all that much time to blog during the next few days. You see my mother is arriving. This means I will begin drinking now to remain calm during the visit. But it should be a good time. At least my kids will be able to score some Christmas presents that way.

However, now that I think about it, I may actually be spending more time on the puter. You see my parents are kinda like the Cleavers on acid. Frequent breaks are recommended.

One of the nice things about this is I will not be the center of my sister’s attention. This girl has dedicated her life to annoying me on a personal and regular basis. And she will follow me to the ends of the earth in pursuit of this dream. Now, if I was married to a dork like she is, I would need a diversion as well. But, somehow it just doesn’t seem normal. I think I will ask Mom to talk with her. She loves doing stuff like that.

I should have posted this a little earlier—but I have a couple of last minute Christmas Shopping ideas—in case your loved one has not been naughty—or perhaps for that very reason.

In keeping with the general theme of the blog I recommend Sexy Shorts for Christmas.

This is a piece of vanilla erotica written for women. Of course, I like the name and the claim that the author donates a portion of the profits to breast cancer research.

It is part of a whole series of “Sexy Shorts” books.

There is Sexy Shorts for Summer .

Sexy Shorts for Lovers .

And Sexy Shorts for the Beach.

What they are is a collection of dirty stories. The target audience is girls with dirty minds. I can guarantee you won’t like every one. But the nice thing is they are short and you can just skip around. I'd say there were about 20% stories I didn't care much for, 50% I enjoyed, and 30% I absolutely adored. There's a brilliant mix of styles and feels to the stories, some are amusing, some are poignant and some are downright romantic. There are ones that really suck and others that can make a girl down right juicy, and you will read again and again.

The nice thing about them being chick porn is that many have sappy romance as a dominant theme. When I finish reading these I have a great big smile on my face.

Anyway, its not often you find good dirty books for girls—and it is especially nice knowing that by reading this series you can help out a good cause.

Hope everyone is having a good time.

And may your eggnog be strong.