That boy of mine...he's going to be the death of me yet. (AKA - don't allow your child to go to a college more than ten minutes away)

On Sunday, I took that sweet boy of mine back to school.  And, for once, he actually stayed awake and conversed during the trip.  A miracle, I tell ya...a pure miracle.

Upon arriving home, I puttered around for a bit, put on my jammies and settled in to read for a while.  And then I received a text that said....

And thus started a barrage of texts back and forth about his need to see a doctor and how soon.  Being that the child is two hours away, puts me at a distinct disadvantage.  Just so you know.

Finally, I pulled his father into the mix - hoping for better results.  Didn't work.

Man-Child claimed that he didn't NEED to search out an Urgent Care facility.  That he could wait until the next day.  AFTER he attended his classes that he claimed he absolutely, could NOT miss (yeah...like he's been this diligent about all his classes!  Need I remind you that this is the same child who gladly skipped his Monday classes to attend a concert with me?  Now, all of a sudden, he HAS to attend these classes or FAIL?  Give me a break.).

Apparently, not long after I dropped him off, he went to play basketball.  He jumped up to catch the ball, landed, heard a *pop* and dropped to the ground.  He couldn't put any weight on it and, as you saw, it was very swollen.  But no.  He didn't NEED to go to a doctor immediately.  Silly mom...

Finally, finally yesterday I heard from him (WELL after lunch, I might add) after seeing the doctor on campus.  He has badly sprained it (no fractures, as I had feared) and will be wearing a boot and crutches for the next week or so.

This, coupled with a co-worker sharing a picture her son sent her of his sliced up finger that he insisted only needed a band-aid, has us convinced that these boys of ours delight in riling us up by showing how "manly" they are.

It has also convinced me that we need to figure out where to buy these shirts...

Source

No really.  I need to know.  We figure this covers their birthday presents this year.

And I wonder why I have to dye my hair so often....

"...but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird." - Atticus Finch

Today a friend and I went to the local community theater to see To Kill A Mockingbird.

And, as usual, it was a comedy of errors to get there.

I had read about the play in the paper about a week or so ago and immediately sent her a text to see if she wanted to go.  She immediately responded with, "It's a date."  And then I never heard from her again.  I did know that her husband was going out of town so that last weekend was out of the question.

She finally called me on Friday to see if we could try to catch one of the last shows this weekend.  Unfortunately, Man-Child was coming home and needed a ride to Raleigh.  Or so I thought.  So we decided to hit the Friday or Saturday evening show.  Until I went online to buy tickets and discovered that both shows were sold out.  And I was depressed because I really wanted to see the show.  I loved the book.  I loved the movie.  And I was prepared to love this play.  And now, I wouldn't get to see it.

Until I got up this morning.  Whereupon Hubby informed me that Man-Child (who had come home after I went to bed last night) had come home on the wrong weekend.  It's NEXT weekend when he needs me to drive him all over the damn state.  It's a long story...maybe I'll post about it next weekend; after I drive him all over the damn state.

So I called my friend and we made plans again to hit the matinee today.  Until I got online to buy tickets.  There were very few seats left and I spent a good ten minutes trying to purchase them.  But nowhere on the page could I find the "BUY" button.  Finally, I decided to close the browser and try another one - I was getting desperate - there were only about four or five seats left.  Using a different browser was the key and I was able to snag the last two seats together.  HUGE sigh of relief!
 
We decided to meet at a local restaurant for lunch prior to the show.  Big mistake.  I should have known better - she is a slow eater, bless her heart.  We rushed out the door and flew to the theater.  She was following me in her car, or so I thought.  When I saw that she got caught at a light a few blocks from the theater, I called her to tell her how to get where we were going - only for her to say to me, "You aren't in front of me?  In the silver Corolla?"  *face palm* I drive a BLUE Corolla.  It was by the grace of God I suppose that the silver car she'd been following had been following ME!

We finally arrived with about three minutes to spare only to discover that parking was scarce and had to park a few blocks away and practically run back to the theater - shouting "WAIT!" as they were beginning to close the doors.

How we made it, I will never know.  But I'm so glad we did.  The play was perfect.

Well....*spoiler alert - if you've never seen it or read it but want to, stop right here and then explain to me just HOW you have been living under a rock to have never seen nor read this classic, iconic story? Go rectify this travesty right now!*

As I was saying, the play was perfect except for the fact that EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I read this book or see the movie/play - I am always, ALWAYS shocked that Tom Robinson was found guilty.  Of course, it is with grim satisfaction to find that karma finds it's way to Bob Ewell eventually.

It was also disturbing - despite the fact that it was true to the story and time - to hear school-age children hurling "the" word around with such casualness.  I'm sure their parents and the director have impressed upon these children what a hateful word it is and that they only had to use it for accuracy.

And speaking of the school-age children who played Scout and Dill (both local 4th graders - which makes them about 9!) were flawless.  These children knew how to play to the audience and had their roles down pat.

The gentleman who played Bob Ewell nailed his part so well that my friend whispered to me at one point, "He's so good, I want to beat him up after the show!"

If the play comes to a community theater in your area I would definitely encourage you to see it.  It's one thing to read it or see it on television but it takes it to another level when you are watching real people right in front of you portray this story.  It will take your breath away.

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside his skin and walk around in it."  -- Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Truer words have never been spoken.

So there I was, all smug and thinking I've GOT this...and then reality crashed in *sigh*

I don't know if I've mentioned it - but in the last couple of years, the Good Ole Boy Network has acquired a couple of companies.

Not that I'm bragging.

I'm not bragging because, although we've acquired these companies, we haven't added to the staff to run said companies.  Which means exactly what you think it means.  Those of us peons that do the actual drudgery have had more tasks added to our already over-loaded plates.

At first it was a bit of a struggle - what with already supporting three and a half attorneys, plus doing my "real" job.  But somewhere around mid-January, I hit that "sweet spot."  You know, the one where it all seems manageable; where you think, "Good!  I've GOT this!  It's ALL under control".

And then...all of a sudden, it's not.

Between the unprecedented snow storm, which kept most of us out of the office for one and a half days - some of us for two and a half days; and the most recent federal holiday, suddenly I find myself completely and totally under water over here.  All the while wondering, what the HELL?!

And then, while it's all crumbling under your feet, you realize...it's "YEARLY REVIEW TIME."  The week or so that the managers only seem to notice EVERY. LITTLE. MISTAKE you've made ALL year long. *sigh*

At any rate, here's hoping that next week I will be back in the "I've GOT this mode."  Because this week?  This week is a lost cause.

Billy Joel: A Southern Snow Storm: Valentine's Day

I know, I know.  Once again, I'm lumping everything into one, large, catch-up post.

The Billy Joel concert was AMAZING!  Even Man-Child was impressed.  Billy (I can call him that because I love him so) exceeded my expectations.  I mean, come on.  He hasn't been on tour in YEARS and, let's be frank, he isn't the young man he used to be - but even so the show was OUTSTANDING and he played to a full house and, judging from the reaction of said full house he was fabulous.  And yes, it was SO much sweeter considering the good news I received on the previous Friday.  In fact, it was so great, that I would urge you to go if there is a tour date in your area.  You can check here.

There was only one "issue" during the event.  This concert covered a huge demographic.  There were youngsters, people my age and much older people.  One row ahead of us and just a few seats down was a couple.  A very inebriated couple.  A couple that insisted on standing throughout the show.  Despite the fact, that there was a much older woman sitting right behind them.  Despite the fact, that her son asked them politely, several times, to sit so his mother could see.  It almost escalated into an "incident."  Luckily, it didn't.

I have also determined that any concert I attend in the future will include a shuttle.  The hotel we stayed in had a free shuttle to and from the concert.  We had to reserve our spot for the ride in but it was first come, first serve on the return.  This was a fabulous perk that the hotel offered and we loved it.  One person though was not to thrilled when she discovered that she didn't get a seat on the first return trip.  In fact, she let this pretty much ruin her evening.  Oh well, shame on her.  It was a beautiful evening and the rest of us were content to wait our turn.

Turns out, just about everyone staying in the hotel that night went to the concert.  And everyone that we spoke to enjoyed it as much as we had.  With the exception of the one lady; but I think we all figured out pretty quickly that she is one of those people who is never happy with anything.  We all felt rather sorry for her boyfriend/husband.

The Monday after the concert was a day spent driving.  Endless hours of driving.  I had to take Man-Child back to school from Raleigh.  Raleigh is easily an hour and half drive from our home.  Man-Child's school is two hours from our home.  You do the math.

The worst part?  It started to snow.  The trip DOWN the mountain was a very tense one for me - this Texas gal who has NO idea what to do when the white stuff starts to fall.  Luckily, at that point it wasn't sticking.

Tuesday was rather uneventful.

Wednesday, the weathermen were in rare form.  All week long they'd be forecasting crazy amounts of snow and ice.  And for once they were right on the money with their forecasts.  Right down to the hour that it would begin.

Usually here the predictions are that we will get dumped on.  And usually, those predictions are wrong.  Not this time.

Depending on where you live in our area, it was anywhere between six to ten inches of the white stuff.  And then it froze.  And then it snowed again.  It was crazy.

For the first time in the history of the company, we were told to go home early and to stay home if we didn't feel comfortable driving the next day.  Of course, the entire workforce stayed home on Thursday.

I'd never seen anything like it - and I think we only got about six inches.  We were paralyzed.  We couldn't get out of the house.  Well, not with our cars.  We did walk up to main road just to see what it looked like.  It was fine.

Toward the end of the day on Thursday, I thought I was going to lose my mind.  Not so much because I was at home but more because of knowing that I COULDN'T leave.  And the horrible television.

Finally, about 4:00 pm, a snow plow came through the neighborhood and we cheered.  Well, I cheered.  Escape finally seemed possible!  Hubby was able to get out around 5:00 pm and made a run to the grocery store.

I was able to get out late this morning (albeit with white knuckles as I maneuvered my way out of the ice-riddled streets of the neighborhood) to make it to work.  A majority of my co-workers couldn't get out at all (those are the ones that ended up with ten inches!).

So now, I can say, that I've survived an actual snow storm (well, a "snow storm" by Southern standards anyway - hopefully that won't happen again any time soon!)

And then this - today is, of course, Valentine's Day.  As a couple, we've never been big on this holiday.  Well, maybe eons ago, when we were young and childless we were a tad more into it.  But now?  Not so much.  Now, we'll exchange cards and maybe the Hubby will bring me flowers.  Maybe dinner out.  And that's fine with me.  Really.  The fact that he spent two hours shoveling our driveway yesterday means more to me than dinner out or flowers.  That tells me how much he loves me more than flowers.

Although the beautiful tulips he brought home tonight are pretty awesome too.

How it came to pass that I booked a hotel and then promptly forgot where I would be staying

Life has been a bit hectic around here lately which TOTALLY explains why things - important things - have been slipping my mind.

Sure, I freely admit that in the past few years I haven't been as on top of things as I normally would - but then the last few years have been anything BUT normal.

But in the last month things have been slipping a little more than usual; and that was never more apparent than when I made a hotel reservation online for this weekend, actually assumed I'd receive the confirmation email and promptly forgot where I had booked the room.  And of course I never received that confirmation.

Yes.  That seriously happened.  Which is how I found myself calling various hotels in Raleigh that are located near the PNC Arena trying to find out where I would be staying on Sunday night.

You see, Sunday I am attending a Billy Joel concert (yes, I realize he isn't "happening" or "now" or whatever, but I love him nonetheless and I will not tolerate any teasing.  That man is a genius and can play the piano like nobody's business) with Man-Child.  Yes, you read that right.  Man-Child will be attending the concert with me (willingly, I might add.  What can I say? I raised him right.  He has an eclectic taste in music that includes rap, country, rock and Billy Joel).

At my very first Billy Joel concert I was newly pregnant with Man-Child.  It was amazing.  Since then I have tried to see him in concert every time he was in town or even close to our town.  As some of you may know, he "retired" some years back to focus on classical music.

I was heartbroken.  Because, despite the fact that I love Billy Joel, I'm not really into classical music at all, but I wished him well.

Then Twitter came along and, after my initial rejection of it, I was sucked in and who did I find on Twitter?  Why Billy Joel, of course.  Although, I have determined that it's not actually Billy Joel doing the tweeting; it's his "people" which, means it's not actually a fun Twitter feed to follow until I started noticing that his feed was announcing concert dates.  The first one was in Florida and I figured it was some kind of "special event" since he was retired and all.  I begged Hubby to take me but he just laughed.  Honestly, after all these years he should know better.  Then I began to see all the announcements for shows at Madison Square Garden and my hope began to bloom.

I even responded to one Tweet with something along the line of how I'd go to the show if he'd just come to North Carolina.  Anywhere in North Carolina.

And lo and behold, one day a Tweet came across that he was coming to Raleigh!  I told my husband that the ONLY thing I wanted for Christmas was tickets and he came through.  But, being the old, stick in the mud he has become refused to go; whereupon Man-Child piped up that he would LOVE to go with me.  And this will be his first Billy Joel concert - "outside of the womb" (his words, not mine). And this is a blessing, because I was willing to sell that extra ticket and go by myself if I had to.

All of which leads me to making hotel reservations for this Sunday.  To the hotel I couldn't remember and as to why important details like this have been slipping my mind.

Back in January, I finally had my mammogram.  And I walked away feeling smug and self-satisfied that I had finally met all my health check ups as I promised myself (and you) that I would do.

Until I received a call a week later.  Asking me to come back in for "another image."  I felt a prick of fear but quickly told myself that it was just a bad image and they needed another.  Unfortunately, they were booked solid for about another week or so.  But I was fine.

Really, I was okay.  Until after the second mammogram when they took me back to the little room to get dressed and asked me to wait.  Then that little, prick of fear blossomed just a bit.  But, I calmed myself down and told myself that they just wanted the radiologist to look at it immediately to keep me from worrying myself silly.

And then the doctor came into the little room and shut the door.  And began telling me about new calcification and that although seventy-five percent of the time it's nothing, it could be the beginning of something more (he even used the "C" word!) and told me he was going to schedule me for a needle biopsy the next week.  Needless to say, my stomach dropped and I was numb.

I went back and forth between crying and telling myself I would be fine all the way home.

Before I got home, I had stiffened my upper lip and spine.  I had to hold it together for Hubby.  He's a worrier.  No, scratch that.  He is a WORLD CHAMPION worrier.  I told him what was going on in a very cavalier fashion and pretended like I was fine.  Despite the fact that my guts were churning.

Hubby met me at the Breast Center on "the" day.  For a moment, while standing in line to check in, I almost passed out I was so scared.  The only things that kept my feet under me was knowing how that would freak Hubby out and the utter embarrassment I would feel if I actually fell out in the waiting room.

As always, they didn't keep me waiting but called me back fairly quickly.  As the nurse ushered me into the little room to change she asked if I was okay.  I nodded.  Apparently, that didn't convince her since she asked again.  And I crumpled.  I began to cry and told her I was terrified.  She wrapped me in her arms, rocked me and told me it would be okay.  She stayed with me until she was sure I was fairly calm.  I love that woman more than she will ever know.  I wonder if they know what a treasure she is?  I wish I'd gotten her name so I could tell them.

When they brought me into the room where the procedure would be done I was faced with what looked to be a table constructed for the purposes of torture.  It was HUGE and there was all kinds of terrifying equipment spread around the room.

The radiologist came in and explained exactly what was going to happen and then informed me that I wouldn't receive the results until the next day.  Maybe later, if the lab was backed up.

The procedure, while not painful per se, was uncomfortable and long.  But successful on the first try - which, apparently, isn't always the case as I learned as I waited on that uncomfortable table while the sample was taken for an x-ray for what seemed like forever.

Once the biopsy was over and I was bandaged up, I was subjected to ANOTHER mammogram (honestly, three mammograms in a month's time is REALLY asking a lot out of a woman) to make sure the titanium chip they had placed in my breast was in the correct position.  Apparently, they place this teeny-tiny chip in just in case something IS wrong so they can find the problem area easily if they have to go back in.  Then I was sent home to wait.

Poor Hubby, when I walked back into the waiting room he was just about a basket case.  He is quite capable of working himself into a state without my help at all.

I got the call yesterday at work.  I am fine.  It was all I could do to keep from crying with relief at my desk.

And all that explains WHY I couldn't remember where I'd booked my hotel reservation...I've had a lot on my mind in the last few weeks.

But, as luck would have it, I finally figured out where we are staying...and I will be able to enjoy this weekend without anything hanging over my head causing me angst.

Life is good.  It's really, really good.

And for once I can honestly say, "I CAN'T wait for Super Bowl Sunday!"

For the past two weeks, Man-Child has been on a mission.

To talk his father (the one who hates to drive and do anything that isn't part of his daily routine) into driving up the mountain to watch "THE" game and spend the night in the dorm.  Once I discovered Man-Child's mission, I jumped on board.

So, in addition to MC calling Hubby EVERY SINGLE DAY for the past two weeks to beg him to come up, I have been on the other end saying, "Really.  You SHOULD go.  It'll mean SO much to MC.  You'll have fun."

Sure, MC is mainly pushing for the food he knows his father will bring - but I think watching the game without his father last year was depressing to him.  This is something they've done together for years.  And last year was the first time they've each watched the game without the other.  And I can attest that it was depressing for Hubby too since every time I walked by Hubby would say something along the lines of "I wish MC was here.  It's just not the same without him."

Today Hubby finally cracked.  He is going (fingers crossed - until he actually drives off, I won't believe it).

I, for one, cannot be more happy about it.  One because I know Hubby and Man-Child will have a great time.  And two, because for the first time in twenty-three years I won't have to hear all the hoopla (and yelling - and no, it apparently doesn't matter that "their" team isn't in the game) that goes along with the Super Bowl.  For the first time in twenty-three years, I'll be able to watch whatever I want on the main television.  Or not.

It's gonna be glorious.  And quiet.  I can't wait.

Twenty-three years and counting...

Today is our twenty-third wedding anniversary.  Wow.

This was taken at a party about a week or so after we were married - gosh we were young!
And I'm thinking I may need to re-visit that haircut.

It's hard to believe that so much time has passed between then and now.  Back then I was young and dumb optimistic.  Today I'm older, wiser and still dumb optimistic, for the most part.

I know that when we rushed into this marriage, oh-so-long-ago, that there were those that thought we were crazy, that it wouldn't last or that I was pregnant.  And, obviously, they were all wrong.  Well, except for those that thought we were crazy...they might have been on to something.

But whatever, it's worked out.  Sure, we've had our rough patches through the years (I'm not even counting the unemployment years).  Some of those patches were so rough, I wondered if we would weather the storm.

We did.

There have been times when he's made me so mad I wanted to hurt him - seriously hurt him.  But I refrained.  I'm sure he's felt the same at times (although, perhaps not as often - 'cause I'm SO easy to live with....) and, obviously, he's refrained as well.

P!nk's song "True Love" speaks the truth about love. And, funnily enough, this album also has a song called "The Truth About Love" which also speaks volumes about what love entails.

FYI...the lyrics are rather explicit.  You've been warned

It's not always wine and roses.  Sometimes it's threatening bodily harm if he EVER chews celery within your earshot again.  Or if he keeps moving the furniture a fraction of an inch at a time.

It's always about compromise, communication, and knowing what battles to fight and what battles to let go.  It's about laughing together.  Because the ability to laugh in the face of your struggles will carry you far.

It's about the occasional surprise, such as this absolutely gorgeous arrangement...

And remembering that you promised to love this celery-chomping, furniture-moving man till death do you part.

And, as I like to remind him from time to time, the only way he's getting out of this marriage is through death...most likely his.

It's seems to have worked so far.  So let's see what the next twenty-three years brings, shall we?

Wanna See My Closet? Of course you do!

As you all know, we've moved.  As you also know, this place has no real closet space.  You know this because I've whined about mentioned it in just about every post except the last one, since we've moved in.

You may also recall that at one point, prior to move, I declared (much like Scarlett O'Hara) that I'd NEVER share a closet with the husband again.

And I'm not.

Now, I could have declared the not so walkable, walk-in closet for my own and banished hubby to the smallest bedroom's standard closet - what?  He was willing.

But I decided, that I would take the smaller closet on the OTHER side of the house.  All fifteen steps from our bedroom door to that door.

And I decided to make the entire room my closet.

As Man-Child so astutely observed..."Mom, you are the ONLY person in the world that can down-size and STILL end up with a bigger closet."

Yes, my child.  It is undeniable, your mother has super-human powers.  And an extensive shoe collection that wouldn't have fit into that smallish walk-in closet in the master.  It's called "thinking outside of the box."

And now, today I can reveal this to you because they have finally removed the giant file cabinet that has been taking up space in there and I can proclaim this room "done."

See?  It literally IS the smallest closet in the house

See how cramped everything is in there?  And this is AFTER I cleaned it out.  Obviously, I need to go through it again...particularly since I have some gift cards burning a hole in my pocket; but I'm reluctant to buy anything until I make some more room in there.  Notice the matching hangers?

Just a peek at part of the shoe collection

After adding some of these Closet Maid shelf things (they stack up on top of each other) I was able to get my shoes organized.

And some more shoes....of course.  And this is AFTER I donated forty pair.
*sigh* I admit it.  I MIGHT have a problem...

WHY I never thought to do this at the old house to build that coveted "shoe wall" I wanted, I'll never know.  But I had an epiphany one day while looking at the two or three shelves I already owned, while wondering what to do with all these shoes.

These shelves are reasonably priced and easy to put together - I did them all by myself!  Even Hubby was impressed.  They do come with these things to anchor them to the wall because I suppose once you've gone past stacking three of them they are easy to tip over.  I didn't anchor them to the wall because 1) we are renting and 2) no one is in there but me.

I added the chair, ottoman and table so that I could have a cozy, little get-away when I need it.  Or as a place to sit down to put on my shoes, of course.

I threw in some art just for a splash of color and added my jewelry boards...

And now, I have my very own dressing room!

The guys tease me endlessly.  They tell me I need a star on the door with the word "DIVA" written across it.

Little do they know, I've already found one...

(Source)

It's your turn - what's your closet look like?  Do you have to share or are you spoiled, like me?


***

Happy New Year to all my dear internet friends.  I wish you nothing but the best for the upcoming year.  Let's make it a good one!

Now?! Now, I'm past the "mild irritation" and quickly heading toward "BOOM!"

Do you remember how in my last post I mentioned, in passing, that Man-Child's big gift had not arrived in time for Christmas morn?  And I kinda laughed it off because he's not a tiny guy any more?

Well, now I am getting a tad bit infuriated irritated.

Apparently, the Amazon supplier took their damn sweet time in actually shipping said gift.  So much so that they didn't bother to actually ship it until Hubby sent them an email saying "What the hell?" (I'm paraphrasing obviously...since he is so much nicer than me).  Funnily enough, the package was then shipped immediately.

WITH the caveat that the package would arrive anywhere between December 20th and December 26th.

Well, obviously the 26th has come and gone.  And still...nothing.  So Hubby fired off another angry (he claims) email today.  To which the response was, "We are soooooo sorry; it'll be there by the 2nd...for sure!  We can offer you a 10% discount."

Which was about the time I kicked Hubby away from the computer and replied for him.  I told them that we would be HAPPY to have 10% discount...provided the damn gift ACTUALLY arrives on or before the 2nd.  Otherwise we expect a full refund.

I GET it.  I get that both the online retailers AND the delivery services are overwhelmed during the Christmas season.  Seriously, I do.  Particularly since I don't have a small one waiting on "Santa" to deliver the goods.  But this?  This is totally unacceptable.

Up until now, I have been fairly calm about the situation, but now I'm about ready to explode.  If it weren't for the fact that this is a GIFT...one that Man-Child has NO idea that he has a snowball's chance in hell of getting - AND the fact that Man-Child is headed back to school soon - I would just tell them to take the whole thing back.  Period.  I don't want it.  Lose any and all chance of profit.

But it IS a gift.  One that Man-Child wants so very much.  One that he thinks he would never, ever get...even from Santa.

So I will wait.  For the next three days.

And if that damn gift doesn't show up?  Well...some VERY INDIGNANT emails will be sent.  And Man-Child will be getting a different gift.  And that's all I can say about that just yet.

Bastards.  Ruining Christmas for the "children..." How dare they?!

Seriously?

Reflections on this and that...

Hello!!  No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, despite my marked disappearance (you did notice I wasn't around, didn't you?).

But with moving and Christmas falling one right after the other I was more than a little busy.  I had assumed that being off for almost two weeks that I would get plenty done; both with the house and blogging.  Well, we all knows what happens when one assumes....

Needless to say, during the move and it's immediate aftermath absolutely NO Christmas shopping took place, so once I was free from the normal work day that became my main focus pretty much right up until Christmas Eve.

Our Christmas was very nice.  Beginning with dinner with friends on Christmas Eve.  It was a lovely evening punctuated with peals of laughter from their small ones.  Made me a tad nostalgic for Man-Child's "small" phase, which seems so far away now.

Christmas Day was a quiet one for us.  All the gifts - those that actually arrived on time - were oohed and aahed over and much appreciated.

The "one" gift...the one that was "the" gift for Man-Child has yet to arrive.  I'm not sure whether to blame the supplier or the delivery service.  I'm leaning toward the supplier since Hubby ordered it on December 10th and it didn't ship until much later.  Luckily Man-Child is old enough to understand that sometimes even Santa has issues with his suppliers.

Unexpectedly, our Christmas Eve guests called us late in the day to reciprocate - I can only assume that they needed to see different faces as much as we did by that point.  So once again, we ate, drank and made merry.  It was wonderful.

Although our Christmas festivities were fabulous - there was a pall hanging over them, as we had received the news that a friend from our old neighborhood had passed away the day before Christmas Eve.  Tonight we attended the memorial service as a family.  It was tough.  Man-Child had absolutely adored this woman when he was small.  Despite the fact, that on our first Halloween there she scared the boy half out of his mind by sitting so still, dressed as a witch, that she looked like a decoration.  Until he walked up next to her to ring the bell...when she yelled out BOO!!  And had that small, little guy running down the stairs, screaming for his life.

The realization that this was the first memorial service I have attended for one of our social circle is sobering.  It made me realize that I need to pull my friends closer and make the time to see them more often.  Life is short.  All too short.

Now that we have lived in this much smaller place for almost a month(!) I have to say we are adjusting.  The furniture might be a little tight but we are finding life is a LOT easier in smaller place; although Hubby still has dreams that we will eventually somehow squeeze both cars into the garage (just typing that makes me giggle because of the amount of STUFF that is currently residing in there.  He's a dreamer, that Hubby of mine).  It's not quite the pain to put things away since their are no stairs to navigate.  Cleaning is certainly a lot easier.  And, we are finding that instead of hiding away in our separate areas doing our own thing we are interacting more (which may explain the lack of blogging despite being home for so long).  Eventually, I hope to do a house "tour" but we still aren't quite there yet as there are still boxes to be unpacked (or repacked for the attic), pictures to be hung and things to be sent to the local Goodwill.  We are still tweaking things here and there as we settle in but the important thing is that we are comfortable and happy.  We really can't ask for anything more than that, now can we?

As the holiday season comes to a close, I wanted to take a moment to let you know how much you all mean to me.  This blogging thing started out as a lark, never meant to be taken seriously.  And while I still don't take the stats, number of comments, etc. seriously, I do take the friendships and connections that I've made very seriously.  And I wish you much peace, joy and love in the new year.

2014?  Somehow I have a good feeling about it.