The problem I ran into was that if I started this diet in mid-October I would be on it through the first of the year. This would mean that I would be on a strict meal regime and exercise program through the holiday season. It would mean I would not be able to sneak into the kids’ Halloween candy; I wouldn’t be able to partake in the luscious Thanksgiving feast; and I would miss out on all of the delicious treats that are only available at Christmas.

Yeah, I know it’s a pretty weak reason for why not to start a diet. It was those foods during the holiday season that were a big part of the reason why I needed to go on the diet in the first place. I wanted to be successful and looking at the stacked deck of the holiday parties I was not confident that would occur if I chose to start then.

Instead I waited until after the first of the year. I even gave myself a couple of weeks after New Years so that I could finish up those last leftovers and treats before I stopped cold turkey (no pun intended). Starting the first of the year seemed like a good “fresh year/fresh start” message that I could live with. Besides, there really weren’t a lot of special occasions or holidays I would have to work around.

That last sentence has come back to haunt me. I had forgotten about Super Bowl Sunday and the tradition of finger foods and special dishes that are made during that time. I was able to successfully navigate through that day but not without a lot of determination and will power. With that behind me I thought I was home free. Unfortunately that wasn’t quite right.

As February began I was reminded that Valentine’s Day would soon be upon us. I am not really a romantic kind of guy so Valentine’s Day is a rather minor holiday in my mind. I thought that would work to my advantage but I began to feel slightly guilty and decided I really needed to do something for Trina.

At first I thought flowers. After all, what woman would not want flowers and I would not be tempted to eat a few rose buds; it was perfect. The problem was that flowers didn’t seem to be enough. The kids had some expectations that there would be some chocolates involved. As a result Trina decided we probably needed to get each of the kids a heart shaped box of chocolates.

Yeah ok I can deal with this I guess. The problem became that Trina wanted me involved in deciding which chocolates we should get. Soon I found myself standing in the Valentine’s Day candy aisle gazing at all of the chocolate and sugar gifts that just begged to be purchased.

It wasn’t just the kids though. I was also getting a few not so subtle hints that chocolates would be a great gift for a wife too. Usually Trina and I will split a box and reward ourselves for surviving another year of marriage (to be honest it wasn’t really that hard to survive but we seemed to feel like we needed an excuse to dip into the box of chocolate).

At the end of the shopping excursion I walked out with five boxes of chocolates for the kids along with three packages of Hershey’s Kisses and hearts for Trina. While everyone was at school and work I placed the chocolates and flowers around the house for each member of the family.

I won’t lie; it was more than a little tempting to have just one chocolate but a reminder of the success I have had so far on this diet kept me strong. I did get a little help from my daughter Mallorie who brought treats over for the family. For me she brought a small container of radishes along with a note telling me how proud she is for what I am doing.

Yeah I have a pretty great family who are a wonderful support system that will help me to be successful. It’s love like that that will help me to be successful.

I never have understood how a furry rodent suffering from Sciophobia (a fear of shadows) was able to score not only a cool holiday like Groundhog Day but also a classic movie. And don’t even get me started on Columbus Day where we celebrate men who get lost and don’t stop and ask for directions. Seriously, who comes up with these?

Sorry I think I took a severe left turn on the off-topic turnpike there. Where was I? Oh yes, New Year’s. So basically we have a holiday where people stay up late and stare at the clock then count down the minutes and seconds until the calendar expires requiring us to go to Barnes & Noble and buy a new one.

Let’s not forget that participants are to ingest large amounts alcohol, wear funky little hats, sing songs that make absolutely no sense what so ever. Exactly what IS an Auld Lang Syne? I swear those are not even real words. Then at the stroke of midnight you are supposed to kiss complete strangers. Yeah this has bad news written all over it.

The weirdness of this holiday doesn’t stop there though. There’s the whole New Year’s resolution tradition. Can’t you just see some guy standing in the middle of Time Square in New York City as the ball is falling and he starts to scream, “This year I am going to lose weight, be nicer to my neighbors, and learn to speak a foreign language!”

Maybe I have an issue with this holiday because I didn’t think of it. I’m sure I would feel differently if it was my idea. So rather than just sitting around complaining I’ll just go with the flow. I’ll wear the goofy hat, blow the cheesy horn, and kiss the complete stranger at midnight. Ok I’ll probably skip that last one and just kiss my wife.

As for New Year’s resolutions, I’ll try to start one item on Trina’s “honey-do” list. I’ll call all my kids by their given name instead of “hey you little person”. Oh and I resolve to go to every Arizona Diamondbacks home game. Hey, a guy has to have one thing that he can accomplish during the year.

Shortly after finishing the decorating, Trina will make a batch of her wonderful hot chocolate and we will stand back and observe all of the work. It is a wonderful time that fills your heart with joy and happiness.

Like any horror movie, this is the point where the characters feel the safest only to be ripped from the shoes by some horribly monster chasing you around with a family-sized kitchen knife or a chain saw.

In my case it is a wife with a stack of Christmas cards. The cards themselves are not too bad. Trina usually has great taste and has purchased something that captures the season. Granted, there will be a “discussion” as I inquire why the cards a) are not Sedona Red and b) do not include the Arizona Diamondbacks logo but that would hardly classify as horror (according to my wife).

The appearance of the Christmas cards can mean only one thing. I will have to write the family Christmas newsletter. I am not sure how it all began. Somewhere in the distant past my wife thought it would be a great idea to provide a newsletter with the cards to let everyone know what is going on in our lives.

I vaguely remember protesting suggesting that the last thing anyone wanted was a newsletter chronicling the zany escapades of our family. While I thought I had a logical and well thought out argument; I somehow lost the argument and was tied to a computer until I completed the task.

I thought that if I made the newsletter crazy enough that Trina would gladly remove that task from my to-do list. That first year I wrote of all the insanity that had gone on in our house the past 12 months.

Much to my chagrin, the recipients did not recoil in terror. Instead we received countless comments saying how much they loved the newsletter and the humor. My plan had definitely backfired.

From that point forward I was the only one who could write the Christmas newsletter. Our card list continued to grow as the legend of the newsletter spread far and wide. It was like my worst nightmare.

This year marks the 16th year of the newsletter. We have heard from family and friends that they have saved copies from year to year. It really makes me stop and wonder exactly what kind of people are we sending this newsletter to that they would save it?

So now as the family is off gallivanting around the countryside enjoying themselves I’ll be sitting at home staring at a blank piece of paper trying to remember what has happened over the past 12 months and melding that into some kind of story.

The first Christmas after our second daughter was born I decided what we really needed was a train to go around the Christmas tree. I had always wanted a model train and this seemed to give me the perfect excuse.

The problem is, whenever I get these types of ideas I tend to take it to an extreme. Rather than settle for a small train that goes in circles on a tiny track, I somehow justify in my mind that what we really need is our own railroad with switches, crossings, and of course cars filled with Christmas gifts.

When you start thinking in that way you quickly realize that a small HO scale train just won’t do. I mean it would look puny and insignificant putting a little train around a nine foot Christmas tree.

So while we were out shopping I went to a train and hobby store looking for something that fit with my vision of what a Christmas train would look like. I came home with a trunk full of track and equipment and began laying out the railway that would become a family tradition.

I began with an LGB train set from Germany. This is an indoor/outdoor train in the “G” Scale making it quite large when compared to typical model railroads. I loved the “G” Scale as it gave the train and its cars a lot more detail.

The engine is an old wood burning steam engine patterned after the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad that graced the Rocky Mountain region in the early years of the western expansion.

Besides the engine and tender the train also came with an open boxcar and a caboose. The boxcar was a dark red color and we filled it with small wrapped gifts for the train to carry to children throughout the rail line.

That didn’t seem like quite enough having only one car so I added a second rail car. This one is an automobile carrier that would hold two automobiles. And if you are going to get a car for Christmas it better be a good one so my automobile carrier holds two brand new Mercedes Benz sedans.

Now with the train set it was a matter of setting up the track. I could have just used the circular pattern that comes with the train set but who wants a train that just goes around and around?

I added three track switches and a couple of different sidecar routes to add some variation to the train’s route. I also added a stop point to back the train off the tracks or unload cars if I felt the need.

By the time Trina came home the living room was filled with train tracks with lights and crossings. When our family came over to visit and saw the massive train display that had overtaken the house and tree they simply shook their heads.

Well everyone except my grandmother. She thought it was wonderful and the next year for Christmas she gave me an entire Christmas village that she made from yarn and plastic canvas. It was perfect and included Santa’s workshop and even a barn for the reindeer.

Through the years as we have moved I have changed the track layout slightly and compromised to only take up part of the living room. The train and the village remain an annual tradition that the family looks forward to every year.

As the gifts are placed under the tree there are soon tunnels and bridges for the train to move in and out of adding excitement and fun to our little railroad. So while Trina still wonders aloud whether we really needed such an extensive railroad no one in the family can imagine our tree not having the Christmas engine carrying the boxcar of gifts and automobiles.

In a sense we have created our own Polar Express that keeps us centered on the magic of Christmas and the memories of our childhood.

His goal was to have the best and most decorated house in the neighborhood. It was not that he had a lot of decorations, it was the meaning he put into the decorations. His decorations started to get a little out of hand and grandma would have to reel him back in.

Grandpa was responsible for decorating the outside of the house while grandma tackled the interior. The perimeter of the house was decorated with colorful lights making it very festive.

The most important part though was the decorations on top of the roof. My grandfather had purchased a plastic Santa Claus with a light bulb inside that would illuminate Santa. He also had a plastic sleigh with two elves riding inside.

In front of the sleigh was three plastic reindeer that stood in single file connected by a plastic ribbon rein. The front most reindeer was of course Rudolph and had a red light bulb for a nose. The Christmas season was officially underway when grandpa set up his decorations.

As a young child I was responsible for helping grandpa retrieve all of the decorations and checking all of the parts to make sure they were working. As I got older I graduated to actually helping carry the decorations to the roof.

As my grandparents got older, it became harder and harder for them to put up the decorations. Rather than see this tradition subside, I would go over every weekend after Thanksgiving and dutifully put up the decorations and especially Santa and the reindeer.

After my grandmother passed away I still went over and helped grandpa and made sure that his Christmas decoration tradition lived on. Finally one year after Christmas as I was taking down the decorations grandpa took me aside and told me that would be the last year for his decorations.

It was sad to think this was the last time these decorations would adorn his house. Rather than let the tradition die though, grandpa gave me all of his decorations and asked if I would please continue to put them up and to remember all of the times we spent together.

Since that day I have been the keeper of the Christmas decorations. The plastic Santa has been cracked and mended, the sleigh and the reindeer too have been repaired more times than I care to remember.

But each year the box is removed from the garage and each season Santa and his reindeer are placed upon the roof of the house signifying the beginning of another Christmas season.

Now my children are there to help me as we remove each piece and check for wear and tear making whatever fixes are necessary. We gingerly place each piece on the roof and stand at the edge of the driveway and watch as the decorations come to life.

The decorations have withstood a lot of years of use and are old and fragile. In a sense so am I. It’s not as easy as it once was to hoist them onto the roof and at some point I like my grandfather will finally decide that the years and the labor are just too much.

Hopefully my children and perhaps even my grandchildren will remember the times they helped putting Santa and his reindeer out on the roof. Then they will remember the care and the love they had making an old man happy and perhaps bringing joy to a passerby.

It is not about having the biggest Christmas display or the largest number of lights. It is about having decorations and traditions that have meaning and bring joy to those around you.

So as I light Santa there on the garage roof I fondly remember my grandfather and all the years that he brought joy and laughter to those who passed by his house with just a simple display and a lot of love.

With Thanksgiving quickly becoming a memory it is now time to turn our sights squarely onto the next holiday, which of course is Christmas. This weekend is typically when the Thanksgiving decorations come down to be replaced by the never-ending Christmas decorations.

Christmas has always held a special place in my heart. It is equal parts a religious holiday and a celebration of life. Ever since I was a kid I have looked forward to Christmas and especially for the decorations.

When we were first married we had a small tree that could have been a long lost twin of the tree Charlie Brown found forlorn on the tree lot. It was more like a stump with a branch but it was the greatest tree in the world as far as I was concerned.

That ragged tree was replaced along the way with a beautiful flocked tree that we had for years. When we moved to Arizona we found that the flocking turned an ugly shade of yellow due to the heat of the Arizona summers.

The flocked tree was replaced by an amazing nine-foot tree that stood proudly in our living room. I was never content with just a few lights insisting on wrapping each branch of the tree with the light total somewhere in the 1,500 light vicinity.

It would literally take us three weeks to fully decorate that tree. Finally it just got to be too much work and Trina gave the tree to our oldest daughter when she got married. That is still a sore spot in our marriage since my daughter gave the tree to Goodwill and we were without a tree.

After a year’s hiatus I bought a new artificial tree. This one was 9.5 feet high and came “pre-lit”. I’m not exactly sure what I thought “pre-lit” meant but it wasn’t this. The tree does have lights but I think we spend more time troubleshooting the existing lights than we did wrapping the old tree.

Every year I swear this will be the last year for this tree and that next year I will get a new tree with energy efficient LED lights. And every year after Christmas I put this tree away along with a list of things to do when I get it out next year.

It is not just the tree though. Every year Trina makes a new craft item and it becomes part of the Christmas decorations. Our house when decorated is like a museum that chronicles the evolution of crafts.

There is the nylon era followed by the hot glue era. Then there is the beading dark ages and the plush era. Everywhere you turn there is a Christmas decoration and each of them has a story to tell.

When finished, the house sings of the times we have spent as a family and the countless hours Trina and the kids volunteered to create the special decorations.

Perhaps that is why I love Christmas so much. Each year as we pull the boxes of decorations out of the garage and transform our house we are reminded of all the wonderful times that have been spent throughout our lives. Those memories are brighter than the lights of the tree and beacon us all to the wonderful times we shared together.

The Thanksgiving newspaper was plopped onto the table; it’s contents spilling in every direction. Trina brought out “the notebook” and put on her game face. The newspaper was divided and it’s contents were examined at every inch.

The advertisements were divided not by store but by opening time. Each ad was then carefully examined and notes were taken. After what seemed like several hours of close scrutiny and several pens and sheets of paper, the preliminary work was complete.

The notebook was less a shopping list and more a battle plan. It contained the logistics and coordinates to successfully navigate what is commonly referred to as “Black Friday”.

The day after Thanksgiving when stores open early and hope to lure consumers in with terms such as “door buster” and “early bird”. For many this is shopping nirvana. A day when not only are you allowed to shop but expected to buy massive amounts of products in the name of holiday gifts.

It is a day I approach with equal amounts of anticipation and dread. During our wedding vows when they mentioned the part about richer and poorer and good times and bad times, I never would have imagined that would mean the day after Thanksgiving but in reality that’s exactly what they meant.

After we were married I promised myself I would go shopping with Trina on these days after Thanksgiving. Part of it was a sense of fear not wanting my wife to go out alone in the early morning hours. Part of it was self-preservation for not wanting my checkbook to go out alone in the early morning hours.

All of this sounds great when you are sitting around a kitchen table at five in the afternoon but it is an entirely different story when the alarm goes off at three in the morning and you have to get up to go out in the cold standing there with thousands of crazed women waiting for the doors to open so you can rush some kid making minimum wage for the last toy in town.

So as I get ready to head out the door I am again wondering what exactly was I thinking when I volunteered for this? While the rest of the civilized world is lying in bed dreaming of leftover turkey and college football I will be standing outside a Target praying that when I finally get through the door I won’t be run over by a lunatic with a shopping cart looking for a Barbie.

After everyone has had a turn, we say grace and thank our Heavenly Father for all that he has provided for us in our lives. It is a small and simple tradition but one that has become very important in our family.

It provides each person an opportunity to look back over all that they have been given. It humbling to think of all the greatness we are given each and every day.

It is not just the good things for which we should be grateful but also for the challenges and trials, which we face in our lives. Through these trials we learn much about our character and our strength.

At the time it is hard to imagine being grateful for the tough times and challenges but if we are able to endure them and overcome them we find we have strength we never knew we had.

For each depth I have had to endure in my life I have found there is a peak that is as high or higher that I have experienced. While my life has been like a roller coaster with the valleys and the hills of bad and good I have thoroughly enjoyed the ride.

There have been times when the dips and drops have turned my stomach and I just knew I was going to lose it once the ride was finished. But at the same time I have felt the excitement that the rapid ascent after a fall has brought.

Overall my life has definitely been an E-Ticket ride and one I wouldn’t change for anything in the world. So I am looking forward to sitting down with my family for Thanksgiving later today and expressing my gratitude for all I have been given.

It will also give me an opportunity to tell each of these people how much they have meant to me and how much I appreciate them being on this rollercoaster with me.

The people you meet and the experiences you share are what I am most grateful for. Well that and season tickets to the Arizona Diamondbacks.

Somehow my grandmother was able to comfortably fit all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins in this house on Thanksgiving. As a small child it seemed comfortable. When I visit now I have to wonder if it was just my imagination that there were really that many people in this small house.

Not only did grandma have all the people there for dinner but she also prepared all of the food herself. Since I was old enough to remember my grandmother was always cooking not just for her family but for everyone.

I spent a lot of time with my grandparents spending the summer with them as they travelled and camping with them every chance I could get. Every morning I remember my grandmother in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

First my grandfather would eat then there seemed to be a never ending stream of family, friends, and people we just met that would come through her kitchen. Grandma happily stood at the stove serving food to everyone.

On Thanksgiving it was extra special. We would have the traditional turkey of course but there would be tables and tables of side dishes. Everyone had their favorite and grandma made sure she made it on this special day.

Besides all of the entrees and other side dishes my grandmother also made desserts. Her specialty was pie. My grandmother made mountains and mountains of pies. There were pies of every shape and kind that would line the counter waiting to be served after the meal.

From a very early age I gained an appreciation of grandma’s pies. They all tasted so wonderfully. My mother is a fantastic cook but the one thing she did not make was pie. Mom was always frustrated by the pie dough and after repeated failures she gave up.

This meant that the only time we ever got pie was at Thanksgiving when we went to grandmas. It became an extra special treat. My grandmother went to great lengths to make her pies and was very proud of how they always turned out.

One Thanksgiving when I was probably four years old, we went to grandma’s house as we always did. While the women were busy around the kitchen the kids were left to play. I would wander in and out of the kitchen and usually was rewarded with an olive for my finger just to get out of the way.

That was all well and good but what I really wanted was some of grandma’s pie. It was well before dinner though so the pie was off limits. I was not to be deterred; I would sneak into the kitchen and just take a small chunk of the outside crust.

The crust was always my favorite. It was so flaky and rich and tasted just perfect especially with a light dusting of cinnamon and sugar. That little chunk of piecrust was awesome and I just had to have another.

I was careful not to take from the same pie so as not to raise suspicion. I would take a small nibble then scamper out of the kitchen. It seemed like the perfect crime.

My problem was, at four I was very bad at time management. My trips in to sneak a sampling of pie crust were too frequent so that by the time dinner arrived I had actually removed all the outside pie crusts on every one of grandma’s pies.

When the time came to serve the pies, there came a horrified scream from the kitchen, “What happened to my pies!” The problem with being the oldest grandchild is the other kids were too small to successfully blame.

After her initial shock grandma laughed and it became a tradition that she would serve one pie without an outside edge of crust. I promised to leave the other piecrusts alone and she allowed me to pick at one.

Soon it became a tradition and grandma would bake an extra piecrust just for me. It became a special bond that we have shared my whole life.

When Trina and I got married she volunteered to make a pie for Thanksgiving. Trina is the only woman I have ever met who could bake pies as good as my grandmothers. I eagerly awaited the pie.

Trina made an amazing lemon meringue pie. Shortly before we left to attend Thanksgiving dinner I did what I do every Thanksgiving; I ate the outside ring of crust off the pie. Unfortunately no one warned Trina of this tradition and as she went to pack the pie she was horrified to see all the crust gone.

She immediately became emotional telling me I ruined Thanksgiving. She couldn’t possibly serve a pie with all the outside crust gone. Somehow I talked her into taking the pie anyway assuring her it was completely normal.

That afternoon as she brought out her pie sans crust apologizing; my grandmother took her aside and told the stories of how she never was able to serve a pie with crust because of me. They laughed and developed a bond that will never be broken.

So today as Trina prepares for Thanksgiving tomorrow she is in the kitchen baking pies. In the oven there are two piecrusts. One will become a pie that will be served to family and friends. The other will receive a nice dusting of cinnamon and sugar and will be reserved.

I’ll be allowed to nibble on that second piecrust and be reminded of the two women in my life that have made such a profound impact. Piecrust never tasted so good as when it is made with love.

My family is addicted to The Food Network. Alton Brown, Bobby Flay, and Paula Dean are all deities around our house. There is probably not a day go by that The Food Network is tuned in. It is not just my wife who is addicted; all of the kids also have their favorite personalities and shows.

It’s not just the shows and the personalities; we have also collected a fair amount of recipes that have become staples on our dinner table. One of the most popular has been the turkey recipe that we found from Good Eats.

Alton Brown is a big proponent of brining the turkey to maintain moisture and give it flavor. The recipe is fairly simple with vegetable stock, herbs, spices, and of course lots of Kosher salt.

These ingredients are combined and simmered then chilled. The turkey is placed in a container along with the brine, ice, and water where it sits overnight before cooking.

Because of the size of the turkey and the brine solution it requires us to use a 5-gallon container. The problem is that we have nowhere to store the turkey while it is soaking.

Our refrigerator is not large enough to keep the bird and the container but it must be kept cool. Well I’m a problem solver so I found a unique solution.

By November our swimming pool water hovers around 45 degrees which coincidentally is the same temperature to maintain a chilled bird. So after putting the bird in the container and starting it to soak we place the 5-gallon bucket in the swimming pool with a brick on the top.

The bird stays in the pool overnight. Sometime in the middle of the night I will get up and flip the bird (yet another great phrase that Trina freaks out about when I use it). The next day we’ll remove the turkey from the brine and let it sit before starting it roasting.

I swear, stories like this are just too crazy to make these things up. So the next time you think you are strange and unusual Thanksgiving traditions ask yourself, do you have a Jewish turkey floating in your swimming bird?