
Isn't that an interesting picture? I can't stop looking at it.
Anyways: Not a big fan of the holiday season over here. I think it has something to do with...well, just the
math -- I mean, 48
Thanksgivings?
Forty-eight?
And every year I tell myself I'm going to be nice about Christmas, or at least sane, but it's hard when WalMart starts putting out the sweetened condensed milk and tinsel before Halloween. I'm not kidding.
Pre-Halloween this year.
So every year I tell myself I'm not going to get mean about this, and every year I end up frustrated and disbelieving of all my friends who stay happy, bake and distribute homemade cookies, put up decorations outside their homes, AND don't seem to gain any weight over the holidays.
And I hate everything
and get fatter every year. So that's fair.
48.
Robert and Maddie love, and I mean LOVE it. They even hammered nails into our livingroom wall one year so they could put up a star of lights. And another year they went out and bought a giant red velvet bow to put on the front door. I think I might have misplaced that thing last summer when I was cleaning out our storeroom. Whoops!
Anyway, anyway, anyway. What I came here to say was that I really had a nice time yesterday. We went to our Alano Club (building where local 12-step meetings are held) and got together with a mess of people I knew and some I'd never met before. There was tons of food and not much room, and I crammed myself into a seat between an old guy who looked pretty alone, and a couple I haven't spoken with in years. It was absolutely great.
Before Robert and I went to sleep last night we talked about all the people we know who we can't even figure out how they're buying gasoline, much less health insurance (we don't have any either) or making their house payments. A lot of them are single and well over 50, too. With no kids.
We go to sleep every night in a sinfully comfortable bed with a complete set of clean sheets on it, and have way more food around than we can possibly eat. We're healthy and also take for granted the fact that we have heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer. Plus we all like eachother just a heck of a lot around here. And then there's Agatha. Greatest dog ever.
And I feel sorry for myself sometimes because of
what, again?
Oh yeah: because I hate vacuming and some days I have to empty the dishwasher twice. Or I have to drive into town more than twice and I'm
tired! And I can
really get going on this stuff sometimes. You should hear all the weeping and wailing that goes on in my head.
Or not.
There's a little snow on the ground this morning, and Maddie had a friend sleep over last night. She just asked for some breakfast: sausage with french toast. Guess what? We have all the stuff! Lucky us.
After breakfast, I think maybe a little snowball action.