I looked up and suddenly it was Monday morning. And I wasn't sure how I got there. Seriously. I had a three day weekend, but I ran the entire time, starting at 8am last Friday. I finally sat down last night around 9:30am and said, "Self, what was the name of that hurricane that just rolled over my fanny?" Just for fun I decided to name him Phillip 'cause that was the name of the ex-boyfriend that was the biggest pain in my backside way back before Hubby and marriage. He was about a category 4 and left my heart in quite a shambles. I stumbled across a picture of him on Facebook not too long ago, and he looked old and haggard, so I was pleased that the hex I put on him on 1986 must have worked. That noise you just heard was Jesus smacking me up the side of the head. He's probably starting to think I'm slow.
Try as I might, the feeling that the next month and a half is going to overwhelm me is starting to creep into the recesses of my feeble brain. I'm trying to pace myself but Lord have mercy, that train called the Holiday Express is picking up speed. I have several big projects at work involving multiple volunteers which will all culminate during the holidays, and when you combine that with the family Christmas festivities and a dose of what the heck do we do about Papa T. in the midst of everything, it is enough to make me want to curl up in the corner with a 2 liter of Coke Zero, a Pall Mall and reruns of Gene Simmons' Family Jewels. And I don't even smoke. Did I mention I have a droopy bra strap today, too? Somebody remind me to buy new underwear after Christmas.
As I type this I'm baking cornbread so I can dry it out in time to make dressing for our Thanksgiving meal. We have decided the time has come to relieve mama of having to do most of the work. We've been dividing up the dishes over the last several years, but she ends up being the one who does the most cleaning and baking so we told her this year to just show up at SuperCop's house with a ham, and we'd do the rest. I'm on dressing, cranberry relish and pie detail while Mrs. Scrubs, SuperCop, HandyMan and his girlfriend are doing the rest. SuperCop is frying a turkey breast in that new fryer of his, so y'all say a prayer that he doesn't burn down his garage in the process. Nothing puts a damper on a holiday meal like having to call State Farm. Mama tried to downplay the relief in her voice when I told her we were taking the reins this year, which told me we should have probably done it sooner. Oh, she pretended to be a little let down that she wouldn't have to clean up a kitchen, set the table, peel sixteen taters and roll out a gallon sized pot of chicken and dumplin's, but I could hear her humming the Hallelujah Chorus under her breath. We didn't let her completely off the hook, though 'cause it is not a holiday meal in our family without her ham. We cook a turkey at Thanksgiving but that's really just for looks. We nibble on it, but we're pork people through and through, and Mama is queen of the hams. I mean that in the best way possible.
We will gather with Mama and Daddy Wednesday night because of everyone's work schedules, and then we'll take Papa T. to my brother in law's house Thursday. That's two more pies to bake. Just call me Mrs. Smith. I actually love Thanksgiving. It's like Christmas without all the pressure and hoopla. You don't have to worry about gifts, you don't have to spend and arm and a leg (unless you're traveling) and you get to wear your stretchy pants without shame. Can I get an amen on the stretchy pants?
After Thursday, things will get really crazy for me at work, and somewhere in the next few weeks I'll have to do some Christmas shopping. Amazon here it come! I am not a Black Friday shop 'til you drop person. There is nothing at the mall I want that won't wait until 10am. Frankly, there's nothing at the mall I want, but my family does like a couple of presents under the tree, so I'll make an effort at some point. But it won't be on Friday morning. Teen Angel will be there at some ungodly hour with bells on while I will snooze in my bed until the dog wakes me up.
I'll put up the Christmas tree Friday and do my best to keep up with the crazy mishmash of events that will unfold in the next few weeks whether I'm ready for them or not. Somewhere in the midst of all the fanfare and busy- ness I will try to find some quiet time to reflect on the season and to look ahead to next year. I doubt things will slow down much after the first of the year as Papa T's care is still pretty intense, and I don't see that changing any time soon (another post for another day), but it should get a little better once January arrives. We have a little vacation planned then, and we're sure to need it. In the meantime, I'm battening down the hatches and hunkering down for this wave of craziness. My blogging may be a little erratic in the next few weeks, but if you miss me, check the cellar. I'm probably riding out the storm down there in my stretchy pants.
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