Ohhhhhh....I have these papers to write. They are all due by Monday, December 12 at noon, at which time I can start thinking about Christmas. Not one moment before -- well, that's a lie. I got home from the grocery last night 45 minutes after I said I would because I ran into a friend and after we discussed all the kids, we had to puzzle out Christmas Dinner. Christmas Dinner is usually here, but this year her husband is having hip surgery on December 15. So . . . will he want to come here? What if it's snowy and icy? Should we move it to her house? Will he even be in the mood to talk to anyone? I think we left it that we will both clean our houses and we'll decide where to go on Christmas Eve. Or Christmas morning, if we have to. Everyone brings food so it doesn't much matter where we go.
ALSO, I see that my friend Marian has her tree up. AND we got our first Christmas card yesterday -- from Marian. All I can say to that is that we have a LOT more snow than she does, but no one had a snow day around here.
Anyway, while I am waiting for my pasta to cook and avoiding my papers, I thought I would share the first thing I see in every room of my house (first floor only) to remind myself that it all has to be transformed, and SOON:
Living Room: A couple of my son's projects from an architecture class last summer, stashed on the mantle out of the way of a certain dengerous feline;
Sunroom: The box from the Home/Office Toolbox that one of my friends gave my daughter last June as the best high school graduation gift ever. Of course, given how things go, the box is here, the actual toolbox is in New Orleans, and the daughter is in Oregon.
Back Porch: Eight inches of freshly fallen snow.
Kitchen: A newspaper with the headline: IRAQ: WHAT'S NEXT?, an atlas open to Chicago and a guidebook to Scotland -- YES! Next July! Iona, here we come!
Dining Room: Little piles of books and papers on Ignatian spirituality. Those pesky papers.
Front Hall: The approximately 200 catalogs that have reproduced themselves in the past week.
Front Porch: The Adirondack chairs under that eight inches of snow.
Rudolph, this would be a good day to put in an appearance.
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3 comments:
Iona! I'd procrastinate too and just dream of Iona. Those pesky papers, though. Sigh, good luck slogging through. I'll keep my eyes open for Rudolph and send him your way.
I know exactly what you mean about the catalogs. They truly seem to be like rabbits this year; my recycling bin is full again and I just dumped it at the beginning of the week.
This was so funny. My tiny garage is filled with so much stuff from our last house that my son's architecture projects are about to get tossed into the trash!
The things we feel we must keep, though, and in this instance I know how much work he put into those projects! So I suppose that they'll stay out there in the garage, until the palmetto bugs have their way with them.
I'm starting to appreciate the fact that I'll never have snow on my porch again. Tonight we had a lovely dinner on our lanai in shorts and long-sleeved shirts.
It's all about adaptation and I think we are all adapting just fine away from our old AOL digs.
Good luck with those papers...sounds quite daunting to this procrastinator!
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