On Saturday morning I woke up and went to brush my teeth. There was a high-pitched sort of electronic buzzing sound in the house, similar to the sort you get when you have an auxilary cable plugged into a stereo on one end and dangling loose on the other with the volume cranked. At first I thought my ears were still ringing from the night before (the band at the company Christmas party was Awesome) but as I moved about the house I found the sound had a directionality to it and it pulled me to a corner of the house where we keep our server cabinet.
Christmas crafting with the youngling:
"Mommy, your reindeer isn't very accurate. Reindeer aren't predators. They're prey so their eyes are on the sides, not in the front."
What I didn't say: "Except for Santa's reindeer. They are carnivores. Hmmm, I wonder what they eat...."
What I actually said: "That's a fine point, kiddo. So the fact that these specimens are red and white striped and one-legged doesn't trouble you?"
"No, I'm using my imagination."
Knock on gingerbread, but I feel like I've got the Christmas scene pretty well in hand this year. Tree's up. We've made cookies. My husband brought home a mistletoe clump the size of a tumbleweed. I've got a few minor shopping things to do, but mostly it's all wrapped up and in the bag, so to speak. Aside from rooting around in the back of my closet for something passable to wear to the company Christmas party, I'm set. Often I'm starting to feel a little harried at this stage in December. I don't know exactly how it happened, but this mellow season of waiting has been quite pleasant.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Hope your mashed potatoes were merry and bright. We had a thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat and sang a few bars of Alice's Restaurant, with four part harmony and feeling. As you do.
And now we're out the other side of turkey day and it's December. The leftovers are pretty much gone, which means I'm going to have to start cooking again. Crap.
As I've mentioned, I undertook a big steampunk project effort Halloween this year, which I'd love to show you but only finished it by the skin of my teeth (weird expression) and I haven't properly photographed it yet.
I wore it to a friend's Halloween party last weekend and I was grateful for the opportunity to take it for a test drive, but it's a bit of an ordeal to put on, and long experience gained over many Halloweens has taught me that doing my regular job at a desk for eight hours in a corset makes me cranky by day's end.
Halloween has arrived, and with it, one of my favorite traditions: All Hallow's Read. And so, dear friends, I give you two stories for your contemplation on this dark and stormy end-of-October day. I read these both in the last couple of weeks, to get into the spirit of things. I offer you the same spirits.
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Washington Irving
My husband chose the worthy character of J. Thaddeus Toad for his Halloween costume.
"J. Thaddeus Toad, Esquire."
"Ah, my mistake."
He chose the worthy character of J. Thaddeus Toad, Esq. for his Halloween costume.
One of my co-workers has a sister who was in labor this morning. She came to the office announcing the imminent baby, periodically checking her phone for news. I smiled. Eight years ago today, I was at the hospital laboring myself.
A couple of nights ago, I got into bed, closed my eyes, and cuddled up next to my husband... who had eight more legs than I was expecting.