Tuesday morning. 5 a.m. Airport coffee and a plastic chair. Tinsel on the airport art. Fa-la-la-la-la.
Life's been a blur of work and Christmas. Throw in a new hockey bruise and you're up to speed.
Every time I switch on the news, my stomach turns over. I keep switching it on though. I'm starting to wonder if I do it out of social responsibility or as a rubbernecker watching a slow-motion car wreck crash into Washington.
The best I can do is take a deep breath, resist the urge to panic, and look to my local community for ways to help.
Happy Stars Wars Day, folks. I've been ultra busy lately, but nothing but the most important intergalactic business could keep from wishing you a happy May the Fourth. So here's a vaguely Star Wars-ish post for you.
After the close of every league season at the local hockey rink, they hold an Iron Man Tournament.
I always feel like I need to qualify this one to my friends who run. This is not like an Iron Man Triathalon where you run/bike/swim 140+ miles (despite the fact that no zombies are chasing you). Nor is it an I-must-train-for-ten-years-to-do-this-and-not-die-in-the-process kind of deal.
It's also not an I'm-a-super-genius-with-personality-issues-and-I-built-my-own-robot-super-suit kind of deal, though that would be cool too.
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.
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.
I looked outside last night at 7pm and it was well past dusk and moving on to full dark. I guess it's fall.
My summer hopes for a glorious pumpkin patch in my front yard fell short. The dry crunchy pumpkin vines out there have yielded one softball sized lumina and nothing else thus far. I did get some lovely pumpkin flowers anyway. And I can console myself that we're sticking to our advised water rationing guidelines, and also supporting my local farmers at the pumpkin patch down the road.
Last Monday, I went to a movie with a friend. Having sort of skipped dinner, I did something uncharacteristic and actually bought food (or the closest approximation thereof) at the theater. My hotdog came with a medium drink. When the clerk hoisted the beverage onto the counter, the resounding thump was followed by a beat of total silence, before my friend and I burst out laughing. The receptical before me was a 44 ounce trough. I would only be exagerating slightly if I said I could fit my cat Weasley in that cup. And Weasley? Not small.