Even My Dogs Smell Like Christmas (but for all the wrong reasons)

I've compiled a list I've found vaguely interesting and very personally informative as I've been preparing for the holiday season. Perhaps you, too, will be intrigued. (Perhaps instead you will be alarmed. I understand completely. If you find you are more disturbed than amused, you should totally find a more relaxing blog with a more sensible writer.)

• We have 8 bins for Halloween decorations, but only 3 for Christmas decorations.
• One of those Halloween bins is labeled "GRAVEYARD" and is an enormous bin on a high shelf so I can't really access it. I'm just saying there may be an actual graveyard in my storage room and I have no way of knowing for sure. Ce la vie.
• One of those Christmas bins is so ridiculously enormous that I usually just grab the items I need and carry those upstairs individually. Did not get that memo to my husband, who hauled the giant bin upstairs and said "whatever is in that bin needs to be separated into two smaller, lighter bins" as he huffed and puffed and grabbed his back. His look of incredulity when I announced there are actual bricks in that bin (cute preschool-painted Christmas bricks) was totally worth the price of admission.
• At least one of our dogs has upgraded from treating the Christmas tree water as vitamin water and gulping it down with wild abandon to actually nibbling on the tree. We assume to freshen his breath. Or maybe for extra protein. We will be keeping the candy canes high up on the tree per the usual this year. Because what the world does not need this holiday season is two naughty Corgis jacked up on sugar.
• Speaking of naughty Corgis, remember that cute frame my niece procured as a cute little hostess gift (actually a "thanks for getting us a place at the beach" gift) back in the summer? She visited again in October and brought the above photographed fabulously-pine-scented soy candle, which if memory serves she procured at the Memphis Farmer's Market. She totally gets MVP in the gift-giving category, because it smells divine.
• I once bumped into Morris Day of Morris Day and the Time at a church. I was reminded of this when thumbing through old preschool Christmas program pictures of the girls. Yep, they went to preschool with Morris's child. And no, I did not go up to him and sing "Ohweeohweeoh!"  while performing the accompanying dance moves, though it was encouraged by one of my dearest friends from college. We were in church, people. It didn't seem appropriate, though it was wildly tempting. (Watch a video of Morris performing Jungle Love here, but serious dancing does not commence until the 3:30 mark.)
• When in need of a tacky Christmas sweater, I would totally rather sew lights onto an old sweater than go to Goodwill to purchase a tacky Christmas sweater. And did so. Evidence below.

XO --


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The Best Cookbook for Thanksgiving Recipes ... or Any Recipe, Really

Last Friday, AKA Halloween, I was full of faux-pity for my fellow parents who were Trick-or-Treating with their youngsters. Why? Because the temps went from long-sleeve-but-no-jacket-necessary weather to freaking freezing cold in a matter of two hours. I was smug in my "my teenage children are at various Halloween parties, thus I remain indoors and toasty warm" stance.

So when karma came back to bite me Saturday morning while spectating at my daughter's cross country race via 40-degree temps and 25-mile-per-hour winds, I really couldn't complain (though I did regularly threaten to set myself on fire to ward off frostbite. Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer is one of my favorite books of all time, yet I shall never visit Mt. Everest due to the way those people talk about frostbite with the same nonchalance a girl from Tennessee might talk about a mosquito bite or spotting a possum. There are other reasons I will not likely ever grace Mt. Everest, like the necessity to walk on a ladder over a massive crevasse, having to tether oneself to multiple others while dangling off particularly treacherous inclines, and highly questionable air transportation, but we shall save that discussion for a different post.)

Once we were home and I thawed my bones, I stayed put by the fire pretty much all day. Making chili. Putting away Halloween decor. Watching football. Drinking chai tea lattes. You know, November whatnot.

November. Sheesh.

Which set me on the path of thinking about Thanksgiving, which is at my brother and sister-in-law's this year (thank you Baby Jesus that it is not my year to host.) But I will bring food. Because I like to cook. And because my husband has a very specific way he enjoys his sweet potato casserole (mostly brown sugar and melted butter with a sweet potato smashed in for good measure.) And I have a specific casserole I make and holiday season cannot commence until I have consumed it. Find the recipe here. But there's also the potential I'll try out a new dish or two.

Perhaps you're thinking along the same Thanksgiving-recipe lines, and if so, I'm going to tell you the first cookbook I grab these days --- and for the last several years since purchasing -- if I'm looking for new recipes: Cook's Illustrated Cookbook.

God Bless America, those recipes are dee-lic-ious. One of my favorite parts of Cook's Illustrated (there's a magazine, too. And it is advertisement-free!) is that if they ask you to do something that seems silly (toss the meat lightly from hand to hand until a loose ball is formed -- what the??), they explain it and it makes total sense. So that's a plus.

I bought the cookbook the same week it came out and happily paid the full-price of $40 (and it has been worth every single penny), but if you click that link above you can purchase it for $22.83. I'm not even kidding. It's a great housewarming or wedding or Christmas or hostess gift (and no, they are not paying me to say these things. See above re: no ads.)

It's just that good. And I like to share hopefully helpful information with people for whom I'm thankful.

And that means y'all.

XOXO--

Disclosure: Some of the links in the post above are affiliate links. So, if you click on the link and purchase the item, I will receive a miniscule affiliate commission. I only review things I have personally used and loved, and think you'll love too.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Show and Tell

I know I've promised not to craft on this blog. Or pressure you into organizing anything, or painting anything, or planting anything. Please do not misconstrue this post as craft-like pressure.



Because heaven knows Back to School season (can we go ahead and call it a season? Because it is. And I swear it pretty much starts before I've gotten the kids home from the last day of the previous school year) is already uber stressful. There's registration, purchasing the right back pack, gathering school supplies, returning school supplies after meeting teachers and discovering they want completely different supplies, and of the utmost importance: procuring the perfect first-day-of-school outfit.



Also, you have to find the perfect lunch box. I suggested my husband might want to upgrade his mode of transportation for his midday meal a few years ago, as perhaps it could be misconstrued as unprofessional to tote one's sammy and banana in a torn Wal-Mart plastic bag to a Fortune 500 company. As a joke I purchased this lovely 1940s era lunch pail at Scott's Antique Market in Atlanta and offered to pack his lunch for him. He said he'd only take his lunch in this when he wanted to catch himself a little tetanus, so we have called this the Tetanus Lunchbox ever since.


The Tetanus Lunchbox is enjoying its day in the sun, y'all.



Anywho, my sister introduced me to this lovely blog called Talk of the House. There are a million kazillion blogs about lovely homes, but this one's my new fave. She does all this fun and creative decorating around the seasons, which inspired my little Back to School entry table. So thanks, Kelly, for the fabulous idea. And giving me the excuse to pull out the Tetanus Lunchbox, along with the girls' elementary school yearbooks and other school-themed books.

Which of course led to digging out pictures of the girls in preschool. Which made me sit in amazement at the many ways they have changed, and the many ways they have stayed the same. Which led to a bizarre mix of exaltation and melancholy, which may or may not have led to me eating some of those Smarties candies. (By the way, my sister suggested mixing in some Dum Dum lollipops to see if anyone caught it. Genius idea which I sadly never implemented.)

The best part is 95 percent of this stuff I had around the house. Which is good, because it left time for me to take care of other Back to School emergencies, like:




XOXO ---

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Closing the Generation Gap, One Odd Odor at a Time

A conversation transcript from last evening with my 14-and-a-half-year-old daughter:

Setting: getting into the family SUV on a mild Southern spring evening, directly after a thunderstorm. 

In unison: "What's that smell?"

41 (that's me): "It's camp."

14 (the kid): "What?"

41: "It smells like camp. That mixture of sunscreen, bug spray and wet grass, with a faint whiff of damp wood and mildew."

14: "THAT'S SO WEIRD! I was just thinking it smelled like the church beach retreat!"

41: "Exactly. No matter what year, what country, whether the beach or mountains, a condo, a cabin or a tent ... whenever more than 5 people under the age of 25 gather away from home -- or really any place lacking a woman armed with bleach, hot water and a laundry room replete with a dryer with various settings -- this is the resulting smell."

14: "That's crazy! So your beach retreat smelled just like mine?!!"

41: "Yup."

14: "That doesn't explain why our car smells like camp."

41: "I was just thinking the same thing. Smelling camp on the way to Starbucks sorta ruins the experience."

14: "We have to stop this smell. How do we end this smell? Right now?!!!"

41: "Let's see if we can rustle up a woman with some hot water and bleach."

Per the usual, turns out that woman was me. I was able to isolate the various odors as follows:

Wet grass -- actual wet grass outside (see above: thunderstorm.) 
Sunscreen -- aerosol sunscreen accidentally sprayed independently while in my tennis bag, which was left in my car overnight. Good news is I have a can of tennis balls and various tennis accoutrements which are now completely safe from sunburn. 
Bug spray -- pretty sure that's a remnant from my husband's fishing trip this weekend. I'm just thankful it isn't the smell of dead and rotting fish. #blessed.
Mildew -- tiny leak in my sunroof. Cured with a pinch of aforementioned bleach.
Damp wood -- this one's a mystery. I suspect a popsicle stick or dowel rod from a science project is loose somewhere in my car. And it's apparently wet. 

If anyone needs a ride, y'all let me know. Because while my car now smells like a freshly scoured murder scene, it no longer smells like camp.

Xo---

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If You've Hot-Glued Anything in the Name of Easter, Please Don't Read This Post

This morning, while taking a break from catching up on the 976 things I didn't do while I was on Spring Break, I hopped (getting the Easter reference there?) onto Feedly to peruse some of my favorite blogs. I have an important takeaway to share:

In the blogosphere there is significant pressure to do a bunch of crafty, awesome stuff and then photograph it in soft lighting before posting with 18 simple steps so you, too, can do something crafty-awesome. 

Are these people for real?

Y'all, there are people right now making moss-covered eggs and attaching them to floral sprigs so their Sunday brunch will look appropriately spring-like and Easterish, and I'm just trying to decide if it's inappropriate to put concert tickets in my kids' baskets. (Last year we put bikinis in their baskets, so I'm not sure why I feel conflicted. I think once you've given lycra for Easter, you've passed the point of any respectable return.)

Don't get me wrong ... I love nicely arranged, tasty food. I love to sew, and enjoy whipping up throw pillows, or window treatments, and even occasionally a baby gift or some such. I have what could be considered a mildly obsessive connection to my label maker, and very much enjoy creating order from chaos in a closet or drawer, then gently bullying my family into following my newly labeled system for world domination. Or junk drawer domination. Whatever.

I'm just saying, if you're ever in a downhill spiral of "who the hell has time to DO all this cute crafty stuff?" and you're pressuring yourself to knit your dog a sweater because CHRISTMAS IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER I BETTER START FREEZING COOKIE MIX RIGHT NOW, I want you stop by right here at the Amy Mac blog where you can relax, knowing you may leave here confused ... but will never, ever leave feeling the need to organize anything, clean or paint anything. Or hot-glue moss to anything, heaven forbid.

So now the question becomes: if my daughters receive concert tickets for Easter, are they then required to wear bunny ears to said concert? I say yes, then I will post the photos here as my craft for the year 2014.

Whew -- I feel a sense of accomplishment already.

XO--

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Fudge, Fudge, Call the Judge

There are a handful of things in life that make me want to self-harm, but two stand out: massive group texts in which nearly all the responses are pointless ("way to go!" and "see you there!" and the like) and baking.

To be clear, there are some group texts in which I relish every single reply. These are mostly amongst my family members and/or college friends. They usually start out innocently enough, then within the fourth text or so devolve to a level that makes me thankful none of us plan to seek political office. I may or may not one day post excerpts of them here.

But anywho, back to the baking. I prefer to cook in a very slap-dash sort of way. Which means I look at a recipe once, get the ingredients, and wing it from there. Forever. I can't tell you the last time I looked at any of my standard recipes. And the meals usually turn out just dandy, if I do say so myself.

It isn't so with baking. It's just so precise with all the "1 cup brown sugar packed" and "mix the dry ingredients first" and "whisk to the left 74 times then to the right 67 times, with one swirl to the left every ninth turn of the slotted spoon." Frankly, it's irritating. Which, combined with my lack of sweet tooth, is why if you turn up at my house for dinner you should plan to bring your own dessert.

The one exception to this rule of "We Don't Bake Here" is fudge. Which isn't exactly baking per se, but since it's sweet I categorize it as such. I found a recipe some years back that is both incredibly easy AND I can remember off the top of my head AND my children can make it themselves which makes it the PERFECT DESSERT AND HOLIDAY TREAT. At least for us.

So yesterday while my children slaved over the stove, I busied myself making these little labels so we could deliver treats to their friends yesterday. (Well, we only made it to half of them because we ran out of a key ingredient, so we will be continuing to deliver over the next several days.)

So, the kids get to sugar up both themselves and their friends, while Mom gets to pretend to be a graphic designer while listening to the Elvis Christmas album, then we all pile into the car together to spread a little Christmas cheer.

Win-win, and .... win.

XOXO---

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It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Less Like Summer

Up until a few days ago, it has been 75 degrees daily in Atlanta. I'm not complaining. I like warmer weather much better than cold. However, I have to agree with my daughter  --- it is a little teeny bit difficult to get into the Christmas spirit when you could slap on some oil and get a nice tan (not that I would dream of such a thing. It would only serve to further line the pockets of my dermatologist, who delights at carving me up every time I visit her office while she yaps about sun damage and the 80s.)

Please come along as I outline a few tactics we are currently utilizing to expedite that Christmas feeling as we usher in slightly cooler temps:

First, we bust out a lovely pine-scented candle to supplement the delightful scent of our live tree. This Thymes Frasier Fir candle is a favorite.


We start lining our kitchen window with the lovely holiday cards we begin receiving in early December. (Alert: if you are one of my dear friends who sends their card wicked early, I refuse on principal to display them until after Dec. 1.)



These guys start terrorizing the household. Speaking of, I have plans for the people who started this elf craze. Said plans will land me on Santa's naughty list, but I'm willing to take the hit for all of us. That's how dedicated I am.


These start blooming. I must say, the holly bushes of my youth were of the sticker variety and would result in multiple puncture wounds should you try to pluck one of the poisonous berries. There are no violent stickers on this bush, so maybe it isn't holly at all. Whatever. Looks Christmasy to me.


Each member of my household will consume a minimum of 5 candy canes a day. Mostly because of convenience as this arrangement sits on a table at the bottom of the stairs.


We find a way to collect ornaments that might otherwise be heading to the great ornament playground in the sky, as a direct result of a serious crash.


Because honestly, it wouldn't be Christmas if our tree didn't hit the deck every couple of years.


The dogs have requested that I state, for the record, they were crated when this incident took place, and thus cannot be held in any way responsible. They wouldn't want their improved behavior to be confused with last year's, um, embarrassing situation. 

Tell me: what does your family do to get in the holiday spirit?

The Real Turkey at Thanksgiving

Northside Woman magazine is still working on its web site. I'll post my articles here until NSW is back up and running. -- Amy

One of my favorite Thanksgiving Day traditions is listening to my loved ones give thanks for good health, a loving family and the plethora of casseroles with the main ingredient of cheddar cheese placed before them. I am thankful, in spades, for those very things and so much more.

So why is it I sometimes must resist the urge spurt out unruly thoughts like “I am thankful Target is open today so while you suckers are walking off the 9,000 calories you are about to consume I can check out their selection of holiday cards”?

And this is before I’ve even had a glass of wine.

All kidding aside, I wonder what we would say if we went beyond the obvious and expressed gratitude for the less significant, yet still important, things we appreciate. The underdogs of our thankfulness repertoire, if you will … because sometimes I wonder if we’re missing the real meaning of being thankful by failing to acknowledge the little things. For example, I am thankful for:

Caller ID. Seriously, I have no idea how I was ever brave enough to pick up the phone without knowing if it was a friend from college calling to share a juicy tidbit or a nosy neighbor asking me to watch her twin Tasmanian devils suffering from croup, the measles, and the ebola virus.

My ability to remember the words to every song ever written. Only my children and husband know how I use this talent, along with rather loud singing, to manipulate the atmosphere during any journey in a car.

The fact that digital cameras and Facebook came long after my college days. I have a feeling there are lots of you out there just like me. Feel free to give thanks at the table this year.

Salt-and-vinegar-flavored potato chips. I can only imagine the offense which would be taken if I offered thanks for chips while seated in the hemisphere with Aunt Betty’s sweet potato pie, but there is no problem in the world I cannot solve with the assistance of a good product from Frito-Lay. Well, perhaps there are some algebraic equations, but that’s for another article.

That in the world of pre-teens, a Pop-Tart will suffice as breakfast until an adult is awake. The day that I woke up to discover my children had advanced to fetching themselves sustenance and maneuvering the remote was better than when they slept through the night for the first time.

My husband’s willingness to do the bulk of the weekly grocery shopping. He was driven to this course of action by complete desperation (either he’d go to the store or we would subsist on 8-day-old celery and peanut butter.) Fifteen years later, I remain extremely grateful.

This season, let’s remember being constantly thankful for things that seem trivial allows us to appreciate our many more substantial blessings more keenly.

That, and drinking a glass of wine before stuffing yourself with turkey has the potential to end with Aunt Betty snatching up her casserole and storming out. If this happens, I suggest consoling yourself with potato chips.

©2010 Amy McCormick Dawson. All Rights Reserved.

Amy Mac and Amazon.com

Now that Daylight Savings Time is officially over and it gets dark at what seems like 3:45 p.m., why not cozy up with a great book? I'll even get ya started. For being a faithful reader of the Amy Mac blog, if you'll share the title of your favorite book ... and it can be a favorite book of all time or just a favorite book for right now .... you'll be entered to win a $25 Amazon.com gift certificate.

Comment, and check back on Monday, Nov. 29 (the day after the Thanksgiving holidays) to see if you're the winner!

XO--Amy Mac

On Being Bookish (Or, how you can use best seller lists as market research in moments of desperation)

First, I should warn you I plan to talk a lot about books and reading this month. In fact, I shall officially declare this Amy Mac Reading Month. Or maybe Amy Mac Book Month. Or maybe Amy Is Procrastinating By Trying To Name A Month After Herself Month. Anywho …

Effective marketing, in its simplest form, is understanding what your target audience wants and communicating how your product fills that need. If we could take a gander at the marketing research budgets for advertising big-spenders like Apple, Amazon, and The Coca-Cola Company, I assure you we’d begin imagining the wonderful things we could do with that massive sum of money (for example, retire to a secluded beach and focus on perfecting our ability to do nearly nothing all day. But I digress….)

Most small businesses and non-profits don’t have an enormous chunk of cash to throw at learning the intricate mental workings of a 30-something stay-at-home mom who decides which detergent to buy, how much to spend at Christmas, and which type of vehicle to purchase to keep her family safe on the road.

Analyzing The New York Times Bestseller lists can be a superior way to home in on general trends. For example, a quick peek at the bestsellers for 2009 tells me:

• We gravitate toward the inspirational (The Last Lecture)
• We’re always searching for the edge for success in business and life (Outliers)
• We’re examining and growing our faith (The Shack, Have a Little Faith)
• Based on the number of zombie and vampire-related books, we like to be spooked (Pride & Prejudice and Zombies)
• We enjoy revisiting our youth by sharing our kids’ books (Harry Potter, Twilight, Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

Pinpointing what an audience is reading and why tells you a lot about what motivates them to buy, and translating a book trend into a marketing opportunity is easier than you think. For example, if I owned a home design boutique, I would load up on inspirational quotes on wall hangings and throw pillows (the non-cheesy kind, of course), I’d lean heavily toward religious symbolism for the holiday season, and I might display a few items that provide a little retro-flashback to when my target audience was growing up.

But only after I’d cleared out all the scary vampire and zombie creatures from Halloween.

Check out what is flying off the shelves at your local bookstore and use what you learn to incorporate a few ideas into your marketing plan. You can thank me later for saving you $8 kazillion on marketing research.

Xo- Amy Mac

PS – Do you subscribe to the Amy Mac Blog? Please do so when I do my giveaways you’ll know when you win!

Going, Going, Gone

I’d like to meet the genius over at Mars, Inc., the company behind M & Ms, who came up with the idea to create holiday-themed colors on the scrumptious candies. Heart-shaped bowls of pink and red candies are an easy, inexpensive way to give a little love (so to speak) to a fun February day.

With St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Spring Break and Memorial Day on the horizon, start thinking of ways to incorporate the holiday angle in your business. Do you have a product that would fit nicely into an Easter basket? Perhaps you have a new line of lush, colorful beach towels that would be perfect for the beach during Spring Break. If you’re a photographer who experiences a lull during March, run a “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling” special for families who book a session during the month of St. Paddy’s.

A holiday-themed marketing angle is a great way to boost sales. Hopefully yours has slightly more staying power than these M & Ms did at my house! XOXO – Amy Mac

I Am Pleased To Announce....

That I completely finished my Christmas decorating since we last talked. Do you like what I've done with my tree?

Obviously I am completely kidding, as evidenced by Martha's moniker at the bottom of the above photo! However, I did get lots of comments from folks who subscribe to my blog ... and therefore respond via email instead of on the comments box. (Not a subscriber? Look on the right-hand side of the page for the "subscribe" button and sign up today!)

I thought you'd enjoy some of the responses I've received ...

Girl, If I could get over this disastrous stomach virus, I would finish putting up all the decorations in the boxes that my lovely 3 year old has opened, looking for his presents from Santa. Ugh!

I actually have completed all decorating except for the tree - which we will get this weekend. Settle down though, you really can't be considered behind the curve b/f December even arrives!!

I dug the Christmas cards out of the closet......I think that can be considered not even started yet!

We never seem to find time to decorate until the last minute, which is why we always have a last minute party!

This year we are hosting a baby shower on dec 13^th, so I guess we have to get cracking!

I have done quite a bit of shopping and wrapping, but I am nowhere near done though.

I figure the people who decorate this early (and this includes the people who send me a Christmas card thanksgiving week) either make Christmas the number one priority in their lives (which I don’t have time or the inclination to do) or they have nothing else to do.

I don’t work, but I have a ton of crap to do-running coach, tennis captain, room mom, football practice taxi, etc!!!!

Hope that all makes you feel better-we aren’t slackers-we have real stuff to do!

Whew - I'm glad there are others out there! XO, my good friends! (and feel better soon, Kel!) Amy Mac

Hey, How Did That Christmas Tree Get In My Living Room?

Today is officially the last day I'll use my "Up 'n' Autumn" coffee cup. I know winter doesn't officially begin until later in December, but once I've turned the November page in my calendar I have to officially get out the Christmas coffee cup. Which should be a challenge, since the festive cup is packed in one of the giant, semi-unpacked bins of assorted Christmas decor in my living room.



Incidentally, I find people posting "my holiday decorating is complete!" on their Facebook status very upsetting. Discovering only four out of 50 lights on my string of lights actually light up is as far as I've gotten in this year's decorating, and the constant reminder that I'm behind the curve and it's only Nov. 30 is ... overwhelming!



Just thought you'd like to know - xo, Amy Mac



PS - Where are you with your holiday to-do list? Done shopping and decorating and just sitting by the fire enjoying hot cocoa, or not even started yet? Please, please - someone respond not even started yet!

Salute

Nearly 20 years ago my older brother was deployed overseas for the first Gulf War. My sister-in-law was pregnant with their first baby, I was in my freshman year at college, one of my sisters had an infant, my other sister was coping with an auto-immune disease while raising her two young girls. It was a tumultuous time – to say the least.

We were overjoyed when he was able to come home from his station in Saudi Arabia for the birth of his daughter Cooper that December. My mom, sisters and I went to the airport in Nashville to greet him as he disembarked from the plane. As we started walking through the airport to get his luggage, we started noticing something interesting. As other travelers noticed Gerald in his Army fatigues, they began standing up and applauding, shaking his hand, and saying “thanks.”

Imagine my surprise when Anheuser-Busch ran a commercial a few years ago depicting a very similar scene: soldiers, wearing fatigues, being applauded and appreciated as they walk through an airport. I got tears in my eyes every time I saw the commercial – and still remember which brand ran the commercial, and it hasn’t been in the advertising cycle in years. (See it here if you missed it.)

If you are going to invest in advertising, whether a major television spot or a tiny print ad in your local circular, you can take a couple of plays out of Anheuser-Busch’s book. First, create an emotional experience. Seriously, I don’t know how anyone can resist getting a little misty-eyed seeing that commercial and thinking about our troops and their sacrifices. Second, strike a chord by expressing appreciation –whether it’s for our troops, or for hardworking stay-at-home moms, or to our pets for being man’s best friend. There’s always a way to appreciate your target audience. Chances are they’ll return the favor by buying your product – and hopefully becoming a repeat customer. Last, don’t make a big play for your brand. There’s not a single beer in the commercial, just an Anheuser-Busch logo at the end of the spot. You’ll be rewarded for your restraint by gaining respect for your brand.

Take a minute to thank our veterans today. They are the reason when we tuck our kids in at night we know they are safe. Lucky us.
Xo-Amy Mac

Speak Softly, or the World According to Peter Rabbit

This past Sunday, my family gathered for the Annual William’s Family Reunion in West Tennessee. It was earlier than usual this year because my Great-Uncle Pete wanted to celebrate his 82nd birthday with about 100 of his closest relatives. I was sad to miss the celebration, but I’ve been thinking lots about him.

Uncle Pete (whose real name isn’t really Pete. It’s Roy, but he really loved Peter Rabbit, so my great-grandparents let him go by Pete. I think that’s what happens when you have 10 kids. As long as they answer, you’ll call ‘um whatever they want) has many outstanding qualities: loving husband, wonderful father and grandfather, and is so nurturing and kind no one can resist running up and giving him a big bear hug the instant they see him.

One of my favorite things about Uncle Pete is he speaks quietly. We know when Uncle Pete talks, it’s important, because this is a man who doesn’t talk to hear the sound of his own voice. He’s over six feet tall and has the stance of a man who has farmed his whole life, so he looks like he’d have a deep, booming voice. He doesn’t. I’m certain he could have a deep, booming voice if he wanted to – but he knows it’s much more effective to speak quietly. Makes people pay attention, really lean in to hear what you’re saying. He knows folks are more likely to remember what you say if you speak simply, softly.

The best marketers take a page out of Uncle Pete’s book. They don’t add to the noise with useless messages. They don’t scream to be heard above the roar of the crowd. They say what they need to say, when their audience needs to hear it, and they speak with authority … no loud, booming voice necessary.

And you lean in and listen closely, every single time.

Happy Birthday, Peter Rabbit! XO - Amy Mac

The Long Shoe Line

If you are wondering if summer has truly begun, there are a few signs to help you solve this ongoing mystery.

Have you paid your respects and said thanks to the military men and women in your life in celebration of Memorial Day?

Is there a faint smell of chlorine wherever you go, but you can’t quite figure out exactly where it’s coming from (maybe it’s that towel drying on the rack? Maybe it’s in her hair?) What about the sunscreen residue that can be located anywhere from the kitchen floor to the seats in your car? Or the shaved ice machine that languishes on the countertop for frequent use?

I remember seeing an article in my husband’s Checkpoints (the U.S. Air Force Academy magazine) about the “Long Blue Line,” referencing the men and women wearing the blue Air Force uniforms. Around here, you can confirm it’s summer when you see our Long Shoe Line. May it only be broken to head to the pool.

Happy Memorial Day!

School's Out For Summer

Today is the last day of school before summer break for my girls. Boy, are we ready for some summer fun around here – sleeping in, endless days at the pool, annual visit to the beach, to Tennessee for visits to aunts and grandparents for a month (just kidding, Mim – a week at most).

The lazy days of summer require some interesting scheduling for the work-from-home mom. I’ll have a sitter come in a couple of days a week, schedule playdates when I have meetings, and I’ll be looking for some sort of water-protecting shield for my laptop so I can hit my deadlines while my kids are swimming practice laps in the pool preparing for their weekly meets.

I’m always ready for the change of scenery (and schedule) when summer vacation rolls around. I’m also ready to change back in August. In the meantime, have a safe, enjoyable, and preferably lazy Memorial Day weekend! I know that’s my plan.

Amy Mac

The Early Bird Catches - Mickey Mouse?

Last week my family and I went to Disney World for a quick two-day visit. Being excited first timers, we were there early – about 45 minutes before the opening of the park. As we were spraying on sunscreen and planning our strategy for which rides we were going to hit first, a nice lady in a Disney uniform came over and asked us if we’d like to be the “Opening Family of the Day.”

“What’s that?” I asked pleasantly (though my husband said I looked at her skeptically. Maybe that was because I was certain I was about to be asked fill out a 72 page survey. Okay, so I said “what’s that?” as I looked at her skeptically.)

Turns out “Opening Family of the Day” gets you a pre-opening tour of Magic Kingdom in a cute little Disney golf cart-type vehicle, a private meet-and-greet with all the Disney characters (for the uninitiated, those autographs are like gold), and a train ride with the characters to the opening ceremony where we threw confetti to the crowds below to officially open the park.
Wow. You can bet my kids won’t forget that day –ever.

Our extremely festive tour guide Barbara told the girls “Remember this – you had to get up really early this morning, and look at the reward! So next time you want to go back to sleep when your mom tells you to get up remember - the early bird catches the worm!”

Funny thing is, my girls both have their dad’s “up and at ‘um” attitude in the morning. I, on the other hand, have never been accused of being an early morning person. Or even a mid-morning person. If it’s happening before lunch, it’s gonna take a lot of caffeine to get me there firing on all cylinders.

So Barbara’s message was probably most effective with me. Next time I want to fling the alarm clock out the window, I’m going to remember my early-morning encounter with a special Mouse. And maybe I’ll only hit the snooze button 3 times instead of 4. Okay 9 instead of 10.

Get Me A Ticket for an Airplane, Ain't Got Time to Take the Fast Train

I think I am one of the few people on earth who actually enjoy the driving part of a road trip. My kids are all about the destination, and my husband would probably prefer to fly (he is a graduate of the Air Force Academy, after all), but for me there’s something fun, simplistic and adventurous about hitting the open road.

There are a few pre-requisites for the perfect road trip. Here’s my list, in no particular order:
· Great music, with the perfect playlist uploaded to my Ipod
· Snacks and cool beverages
· A mindless, entertaining book on CD
· My Blackberry
· A camera (you just never know when you might want to snap a photo)
· A general idea of where I’m going

Those items, along with a full tank of gas (which is what I was doing when I snapped this photo), will make the trip fly (pun intended) – Happy Trails!

Limericks and Love

In general, I love my work. I love the writing, and I love my clients. All of them are fabulous (I have a very strict policy for swiftly striking the difficult to work with from my client roster. Strange how once you make that distinction, the good folks seem to find you.)

But today has been even more fun than usual, and I credit that to the fact that I got to write a limerick for a client today. No joke. I have a new client that is opening an Irish pub in the area, and they asked me to spiff up the copy on their menu. “Make it fun!” they said. “Okay-dokey!” I replied.

So you probably already know there’s a county in Ireland called Limerick. And the good folks at my local pub named one of their sandwiches after said county. The temptation was too great, so this is the copy I’m sending over today:

Limerick Monte Cristo

There once was a man from Limerick.
He could not decide on a meal to pick.
He liked turkey and ham,
And raspberry jam.
He chose Monte Cristo -that’s not a trick.

Honey baked ham, mesquite roasted turkey, Irish Farmhouse Cheeses, and raspberry preserves. Served with hand-cut potato chips.

Now, they may say “Ah, we didn’t know you’d take ‘make it fun’ quite so literally,” and strike it from the copy. I hope not, but even if they do, I got to write a limerick today for the first time since fifth grade.

I’m hungry for a sandwich now, so I’ll sign off. Are you doing something you love today?