This weekend saw the girls’ old doll house sitting a top of the burn pile ready for the next bonfire. I admit that I cried when I saw it in the burn pile and today, my eldest, on her dog walk, saw it and it brought her to tears as well. What the hell is the matter with this family? Must we all be full of good memories? Is there no dysfunction, or enough of it,  to move us along to our next stage of life without grasping at the past and crying over it’s passing? What did I do wrong?

Seriously, I wonder what it would be like to be happy to toss out the toys from the past and be happy to have some new room or extra storage space without seeing the ghosts of what used to be there. Will I ever get to such a place?Will the piles of memorabilia the kids have around my house that they won’t throw away so I have to, and then listen to them complain that I did, ever dwindle down to nothing? Perhaps that would be “the greatest miracle of all” , to have nothing left to remind us of the days gone by? I am not sure.

Then I took a gander over at the pile of photos from the past 30 years I started sorting during football season last year. Let’s just say it’s still a big job to tackle. Yeah. It’ll take a miracle.

—–

“Why shouldn’t I look at my dearest treasure? – at all the beauty that is mine, all my very own.” ~ Helmer from A Doll’s House

I was asked to watch two little ones, ages 6 and 3, for an overnight and suddenly, all my energy has been drained, mysteriously zapped at the very thought of chasing someone in single digits (but thankfully not diapers) around.

The good news is that they will be here in the late afternoon and bedtime is 8:30. We have the pool and trampoline up as I intend to wear them out with all kinds of strenuous physical activity that I can watch them perform. Then I will plop them in front of the TV and let Disney do its magic. Yep, that’s how I plan to rule my kingdom this weekend. And no sugary foods until about 10 AM the next morning as they are getting picked up at 11.

The girls will be attending church with us so I will have to pack up some entertainment. I think my iTouch with a dual headset playing Dora the Explorer or some Hannah Montana out to do. (I just need to keep them away from my episodes of The Family Guy.) I was a tad worried that someone would think electronics in church would be in bad taste, so I am contemplating a wireless headphone purchase. I may decide to go the Cheerios, raisins, book, crayons and Saint of the Day coloring book – who knows.

It should be fun. And a good reminder that I am not of childbearing age anymore. As if I needed one.

—–

“Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky.”  ~Fran Lebowitz

Did you know that the true end to the Christmas season is February 2 or Candlemas Day? ( I think that’s how Groundhod Day started. The little guy was just coming out of his hole to get rid of his tree that he’d just taken down.)

So Sunday night, I kept smelling this funny smell.  Kind of a burned and musty smell. The men in the house couldn’t smell a thing but that is because they are genetically programed to smell only hops and barley from birth.

Of course I blamed my son first. After inspection, I let him off the hook but was still nagged by that lingering odor.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was my Christmas tree. Never has this happened before, but it was turning brown in places so I suppose it’s possible.

It’s gone now and so is the odor. The kids’ pile of gifts under the tree still remains. They are as bad as I am at wanting the season to last forever.

Either that or they are as physically lazy as I am.

—–

“Nothing irritates me more than chronic laziness in others. Mind you, it’s only mental sloth I object to. Physical sloth can be heavenly.”  ~ Elizabeth Hurley

Ah, if it were just as easy to fix some other droopy things…

But onward to make more items to archive on my blog. (Don’t think I have the nerve for the type of cosmetic enhancements these ladies opted for.)

Picked my son up at school and found out my daughter passed the second of four tests required for her CPA exam. This will truly be a good Thanksgiving in that regard because if she would not have passed, well. It wouldn’t have been pretty. Maybe there is a God.

Son has a full Jesus beard. I scheduled an electrolysis appointment for myself for this afternoon so there will be no mistaking us over the candle light at dinner.

Daughter #1 will be home later today, complete with her cat that she can’t seem to be able to leave alone. I shudder to think about the overprotective genes I passed on to her, and how they will exhibit themselves when she has a human child.

Today, in addition to my hair removal experience, I plan to be/look very busy so they will clean the house for me. The only downside to that is how much I will hear about the size of the cobwebs, thickness of dust, degree of bathtub scum incrustation, etc. Perhaps my busyness should involve trips to the store?

Happy Thanksgiving to all and may my turkey be all defrosted when it’s time to take the innards out of the cavity. Can anyone tell me why in the heck they put them in there? Does anyone use them for anything anymore?

—-

“A woman voting for divorce is like a turkey voting for Christmas.”  ~ Alice Glynn

See what happens when your child goes off to college? All the foods they like , but you don’t , go uneaten and before you know it, you are growing penicillin. And family members show the world what’s in your kitchen – growing mold – on Facebook.

And she tagged it with my name too. Lovely child.

It motivated me to check the rest of the stuff in my refrigerator, which is when I discovered that orange juice can actually get chunky,  with curdles like milk. I was always fascinated with science.  Not  so much with housekeeping.

Being the health-conscious type, I don’t eat white bread and I eat whole fruits rather than juice so the stuff my son likes, aged a bit. I hate to throw good food away, so I wait until it’s not good  anymore. Then I have no problem tossing it.

I think I have removed all specimens from the fridge now. Just in time for my  son to be home for Thanksgiving. I put white bread and OJ on my list.

—-

“When nature made you, they broke the mold. Rumor has it they beat the hell out of the mold-maker too.”

While I love Christmas because everyone is home, and warm and happy, I think that Thanksgiving is a close second. If you begin celebrating Christmas before that, it takes away from the only holiday that is strictly about giving thanks. There are no gifts given but those from the heart (and to the stomach). Why dilute it?

Obviously, this household did not have any young children living in it to become crazed and excitable at the sight of a decorated tree for such a prolonged period of time. I couldn’t even use pine cleaner at my house for years for the same reason. Mass hysteria.

And besides that, if you start that early, your tree turns into a dry, crumbly mess that drops brown needles from a simple breeze when you walk by that are hard to vacuum up. And I am all about making housekeeping easier. Just ask the pine needles from last year still stuck in my rug.

—–

“The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree:  the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.”  ~ Burton Hills