good grief, isn't it over yet??
(how many posts do I start this way?)
I've been a very very lazy blogger.
I really don't know why I have a rough time at the holidays....OK--I guess I can't really claim to have a rough time--compared to the fork stabbing types of holiday wrecks, I'm a creampuff... I can't quite figure it out, I start out fine, and then by Christmas Eve I'm usually ready for it all to be over and the cranky bus has arrived. In the past I would stress out over throwing my son and my ex birthday parties the week before Xmas, along with all my holiday work busy-ness. Now I only throw a party for my boy--and at age 12 that means getting pizzas, cake and soda and keeping the troops from injuring themselves or igniting the furniture for about 6 hours. Maybe, as B says, it's my letdown time of the year. Everything ramps up and up through my busy Fall season and holiday sales and I know it's about to deflate. Kinda like when you have to pee really really bad on a car trip, but you're hanging on longer than you thought possible, and you finally get to the gas station and those last few steps thru the bathroom door nearly kill you? Yeah, that's it. This is those last few steps thru the bathroom door. Maybe I should write a song about it. ok, nevermind.
So we had a low key Christmas. The boys (mine 12 & his 20) got prezzies. Me and B dedicated our gifts to each other toward funding a new couch, which has yet to be chosen. (but just let me tell you, people, the (no shit) hunter green damask shabby chic piled with pillows with bright white plastic zippers that he let his ex bring home about 10 years ago just isn't doin it for me anymore) Somebody made that couch and then beat it with an ugly stick. If his ex loved it so much how come he got it in the divorce and she went shopping for new furniture from the current century? B always claimed what it lacked in looks it made up in comfort. He was rationalizing just a wee bit, if you ask me. The kicker came at Thanksgiving when his son home from college won't even sleep on it anymore due to back and neck pains it gives him... I, on the other hand, moved in here with my black leather couch that still claims the best night's sleep a couch can claim, but B hateshateshates leather couches, so (since its his house) it will remain in the 'backroom' and we have to utilize the pukey green with white zippers monster couch til we find a new one.
The things one does for love.
Ok, the man is a gem, but really, I've had it with that freakin couch, and I think he's finally seeing the light. Oh, did I mention it has matching loveseat?? The entire livingroom is consumed by hunter green damask. I'd rather sit on milk crates at this point.
Alrightythen, got that off my chest....
Back to Christmas. I cooked up some Tyler Florence chicken marsala and made Jaques Pepin's Pound Cake (see photo below with lazer tag gun in background)
which we drowned in blueberries and icecream, just like the 4th of July. Seriously good, but kinda out of season...(what is WRONG with me?)
oh, and rum balls. dayum. That is one good Christmas cookie. Don't even have to bake em, (keeps the booze in) and nothing says Christmas like a drunk 12 year old...
just kidding! I didn't let him eat more than 20 over 2 days.
B and I strung some lights on the 8' tall ficus. I gave up on the ornaments after putting 4 little glass birdies up.
It was elegant.
There wasn't even much to clean up. Our garbage can wasn't even full. We're the only house on the block with a garbage can lid totally closed.
Well that about wraps it up, now on to hassling my kid to get his ass off the *&^($#$%#^ play station and maybe I'll hit the gym.