It is a wonderful whirlwind of activity this holiday season on the homestead. With a constant flow of family coming and going, wrapping paper flying, happy faces of Grandchildren and cooking meals to feed the masses, it may take a day or two before I’m able to relax at my computer..
So I would like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and hope that your holiday is full of as much joy as mine is!
I had a dream. Actually, it was more of a goal, and a lofty goal at that.
And then Thursday happened.
I was at work, minding my own business, heading up to the front of the college to deliver some paperwork and I noticed a familiar face enter the building. Being the ever-so-kind person that I am, I hollered “Hello Bill ” as he made his way through the doors, And as I rounded a corner I was immediately attacked.
The villain was no more than 12 inches tall, but its intent was deadly as it reached an arm out into my path. Unaware of the vicious plans of this unknown enemy, I was quickly taken down.
In one split second I went tumbling* over my enemy and with outstretched hands prepared to meet the hard tile floor that awaited me.
Thwump !
For a moment I layed motionless as I tried to determine if I had come through the attack unscathed. As voices spoke to me and strong arms reached down to me offering assistance, I realized that I was in fact, not OK. There was a terrible pain in my left knee and my right hand had the searing sensation of a 100 fires in it.
Trying to bring my brain to a complete halt after the free-fall my attacker had launched me on, I allowed myself to be seated into a chair as a crowd of colleagues gathered around me.
…..
…..
OK, let’s just cut to the chase here: I tripped over a box that someone had left outside their door and took a digger. (The prologue is completely true albeit slightly glamorous for effect.)
Needless to say I endured 3 hours in the emergency room and came away with the diagnosis that I f’d up my knee pretty good and sprained a ligament in my hand.
As of the time of this post I feel like I have been hit by a Mack Truck. OK, maybe not a Mack Truck, possibly a Pinto Wagon. The bruises are starting to form and every muscle in my upper body feels like they have been used as a punching bag.
This is how my co-workers let me know that they care about me and hope I get better soon.
I wouldn’t expect anything different.
*Actually, I was told later that it was probably the most graceful fall that anyone had ever seen. I’m surprised it hasn’t been posted on YouTube yet.
Remember those days when you were young and you always kept your house clean? How you would designate a certain weekend day and do your dusting, vacuuming, sweeping… you know, the normal maintenance stuff?
And you didn’t hem and haw and swear under your breath about what a CHORE it was.
So riddle me this: Where the hell did those days go? I mean, I’m at the point in my life where I’ll look at the shower and go “Well, it’s a a little dirty, and if I don’t look at the creepy stuff growing in the corner, it can wait to be cleaned for a while.” And by a while I mean, when the kids come up to visit. “They won’t be up for 3 months? COOL! Maybe the creepy stuff will grow bigger and I can just break it off! ”
But before you know it 3 months is over and you have 3 days to get the whole house clean for the arrival of family for the holidays. And those are not weekend days either. Those are plan-to-fit-all-the-scrubbing-mopping-vacuuming-sweeping-dusting-in-after-a-nine-hour-work-day-frenzy-fest.
Which is what I am trying to pull off before Friday evening.
Actually, I’m not that bad, but I do tend to go a couple weeks without vacuuming and dusting. And as far as the bathroom from hell goes, that can stay in the 3 month category, because I still haven’t found anything to break through that damn hard water deposit that has plagued my shower for years (and I did use a Magic Eraser this time as someone suggested… fail! ).
And I swear that the toilet is now in cahoots with the shower because it has decided to join the Drive Sandy Crazy party.
So if I seem a little sparse on the posts this week, you know what’s up and won’t send the posse out looking for me.
Not unless the posse can get my shower sparkling clean again.
For the last few years I haven’t made any Christmas goodies to spread around to my family and friends.
Perhaps it’s because I’m always baking bread or sweets for our home use all the time that I just can’t get into the mood.
Or perhaps I’m just too lazy.
Don’t get me wrong, I would love to get back that seasonal passion of spending 20 hours of doing nothing but bake up some wonderful holiday morsels and then collapse in a baking coma for 3 days.
Did that come out a little harsh?
Sorry.
Actually, we have some wonderful friends that stop by each year with calorie-laden trays of cookies, breads and cheese, enough to pack on the Christmas pounds for a couple of weeks.
I love those people.
And some day I hope to be able to return that favor. Maybe that will be my New Year’s Resolution: Bake Christmas delights for those that have been so kind to us over all these years.
And I wont have to worry about breaking it fulfilling it for 11 months!
* Peanut Butter Blossoms from Betty Crocker.com
I’ve been hearing a lot about this Elf on the Shelf thing.
Now you have to remember that my daughters are grown, and I’m thinking that the grandkids might just be too old for something like this, but since I like to be “in the know” on crap stuff like this, I thought I’d do a little investigating.
So let me get this straight: it’s a little creepy doll that is used by parents at Christmas time to put the fear of god in them to be good or else Santa won’t bring them anything?
Seriously?!? Parents have resorted to using dolls to do that sort of thing now?
Wow, I guess I must be out of touch. Back in the day, all it took was a good threat. And boy, did it work! And. It. Didn’t. Cost. A Dime.
Here’s my suggestion to all those parent’s that choose to resort to this sort of blackmail: If you’re gonna shell out your hard earned dough on a doll to instill fear in your kid to be good, spend your money wisely and have something that will work all year long.
Furbie is all you need. Sure, it costs $50, but that’s only a few more dollars than you shelled out for fairyboy on the shelf. AND, this thing can terrorize be used all year long!
The best part is you really don’t have to do any training to get it to spontaneously “wake up” in the middle of the night and scare the crap out of your kid*. You can tell them that they must have been bad and if they’re good, it won’t happen again. Hey, it’s no bigger lie than what’s happening with that little doll.
And if you feel that you still have to move him around or hide him like the elf, go ahead and knock yourself out. Just make sure you check your trash often, because you just might discover it “hiding” there often.
*I had one of these things 15 years ago and it did wake my daughter up in the middle of the night. Scared the crap out of her (and it still gives her the heebie jeebies to this day). Suffice it to say, she won’t let me get one for the grandkids. Bummer.