The company I work for picked up canned goods at nine area schools last week in the food drive we do in the schools. When it was all said and done we had collected more than 22,000 pounds of food, and I’m proud to say I made it through the whole event this year without bursting into tears once. I don’t think it’s because I’ve gotten control of my emotions. I think it’s just the menopause. I’m low on estrogen. I had to put a lip waxing schedule into my Blackberry.
Except for that kidney stone that Mama J. passed last week, we’ve all managed to stay healthy lately, which is an accomplishment in this family. I did schedule an emergency appointment at the dermatologist for Teen Angel because of this funky leprosy looking rash on her feet and legs. The doctor at the walk in clinic a few weeks ago diagnosed it as Henoch Schonlie Purpura (say that three times fast), which is basically a harmless rash that is caused by a virus and will eventually go away without treatment. Except it hasn’t gone away. It’s worse than ever and now it itches. Initially, I thought she had just gotten into some kind of weed in the yard. Then I got scared that we had bedbugs and frantically searched her mattress for any sign of vermin. All I found were a couple of cereal crumbs and some sock fuzz. We finally ended up at the doctor where his diagnosis relieved us. Until now. So it’s off to the dermatologist tomorrow for Miss Scratches A Lot. Thank goodness it’s not swimsuit season.
Speaking of swimming, the fence around the pool is finished, and the man cave/garage is about 90% complete, with no thanks to some very lazy sheet rock finishers, thank you. Grandma was slow, but she wasn’t as slow as those guys. Geez. I’ll post full pictures of the project soon. We’re down to installing some plumbing and the finishing touches, but we have to wait on the concrete guy to stain the concrete floor, and he can’t get to it for two weeks, so we’re kind of at a lull. They’re going to have to get on the stick ‘cause Hubby and the boys have a poker game scheduled for that room in January. And a certain Hula Girl just might have a sleepover with her Bunco pals soon after that.
My Christmas shopping is done. Praise Jesus! Santa is coming to our house in the form of Amazon this year. Every day a box arrives for me at work from UPS, and I keep stacking them up to wrap.
I’m all for shopping local and supporting the local guy, but I just didn’t have time to trek from store to store this year, so I opted to actually get gifts under the tree and took the easy way out. And holy cow was it wonderful. I could totally shop from home from now on.
My next purchase? Is for me. After a year of saving, I finally have enough for this:
Oh, holy mother of Mabel, I can’t wait. Nothing makes me happier than getting a little gold Nikon box in the mail. Well, except for Matthew McConaughey showing up on my doorstep unannounced. Without his shirt. I’ll pause right here so Hubby can roll his eyes. You know, like he did while waiting for me to finish up Christmas shopping in JC Penney’s the other night.
Hubby gets the prize for the oddest Christmas present this year. He wants this Yeti thing that is attached to the back of a tree and looks from the front as if Bigfoot is peering from behind the tree. He wants to put it on the tree closest to the pool. Yes. He really does. I’m not even joking. This one is even worse than that big John Wayne statue he had when we first got married. Or the phone that quacked like a duck. Teen Angel is on board with this, too, so being outnumbered I gave in. It’s gonna look reeeal nice out there in the backyard. Every time I look at its picture in the catalog the leg lamp scene from A Christmas Story rolls through my head. Fra-gee-lay! If anyone asks what that thing is, I’m going to tell them it’s Italian.