That awkward in-between stage

Okay, I really need to either get sick enough to stay home and lie around drinking tea and watching movies all day, or get all the way well already and stay that way.

For tonight, I'm going to spend excessive amounts of time at today's favorite: There, I Fixed It (check it out - it's even better than Awkward Family Photos.) Oh, wait. I've already done that. So now I just need to cuddle on the couch and eat meatloaf and mashed potatoes and watch lots and lots of Dr. Who.

Wish the weekend was only half over

We put up the short, single strand of lights I got at the grocery store on Friday. They look nice, but really demand a second string in order to reach all the way across the porch.

We made a bunch of white snowflakes this morning, and the girls hung them on the living room wall. They look really good there.

I went to see a second house for rent; this one around the corner from us. I was aware, because of the extremely low price, that it might not be suitable, and indeed it was not. We'd be more comfortable all living in a single one of these apartments than in that tiny little airless place with no parking.

Bob's not all better yet, but he's finally turned the corner, which is good. We've determined he must have picked it up from one of the 30-odd people he dealt with at his various classes last Saturday. He came down with it on Wednesday, which means if any of us are going to get it, it should be right about .... now.

I've got a scratchy throat, but then I almost always do at some point during the week, so hopefully it's not The Cold Of Doom.

I keep forgetting and then remembering that I said I'd bring a cake to work tomorrow, so I guess I'd better go get that underway.

Glad the weekend's only half over

We had our second Thanksgiving today. Both versions were really enjoyable. The one on Thursday was everybody from the office, plus families [except for Bob :( ], very intimate and relaxed. Then today was larger, with good friends I haven't seen for a while, and some others who I don't yet know that well. There was talking quilts and talking shop and talking Facebook. And a very slightly naughty joke or two. (I told this one. I'd tell you the one that Dan told, but it doesn't lend itself to text.)

Sadly, Bob is still not feeling well and missed them both. We'll need to do other fun stuff because we were all looking forward to the Thanksgivings this year.

And now, I've got cake from the next door neighbors' six year old's birthday party, wine from last night (that liter box isn't going to drink itself, and Bob's in no state to help), and Christmas decorations a-waiting for the morrow.

The hell with Buy Nothing Day

...And I don't mean that I disagree with the concept, but I got paid today and we had some shopping to do. You know. Fill the gas tank. Get a decent decongestant for Bob. Food for the kitty. Cereal because the leftover corn flakes from the crust of that sweet potato casserole were pretty bad - hopefully we can find another recipe that calls for corn flakes.

Pizza for dinner and wine for me. In fact, Julia just brought me a refill (I *love* that they're old enough for that kind of thing) so I'll just see you all tomorrow.

I hepped.

I have apparently led quite the sheltered life

Fiction-wise, at any rate.

I'm reading the comments on a Shakesville Question of the Day that asks, "What's the worst book you've ever read, so bad you couldn't believe it got published?"

There are a lot of books being thrown across rooms and very little love for Dan Brown in that thread, but it was the comment that included the following that really gave me pause:

The minor villain who wants to ban fire. The evil chicken. The statue that converts people to Objectivism. 'Darken Rahl' as a villain name. Slaughter of evil pacifists.

...I have every reason to believe the person who left that comment had actually read a single book that included all of those things.

It's a jungle out there, kiddies. Have a very fruitful day.

Had to honk & swerve to miss a bus this afternoon. It was at this one stop sign (as opposed to all the other ones, you know) where the people do stop, but they're not happy about it.

Not sure what it is about that particular spot, but they're always nosing out into our (non-stop-signaged) street, and today this bus driver figured he really didn't need to wait for a break in traffic, but would make his own out of things he probably already had around the house.

Except, I was going uphill in the hard rain, and I'm used to seeing the cars nosing out, so I didn't notice at first that the bus was not only sticking out farther than it should, but was also moving out into my path. Until I did notice, and laid on the horn, and made the bus stop. Which I'm glad it did.

Funnily enough, I was, most of the way home, contemplating the body work I need to have done on this car. But which I'd really rather schedule at my own financial convenience, not in response to buses and things.

The bus-y swerve-y thing was three blocks beyond the Street That Always Floods When It Rains, which was axle-deep in water this afternoon; surprising, really, when it wasn't even sprinkling when I left work, but there you have it. Seasons changing and all.

And that, in turn, was about eight miles after the very smiley, besunglassed driver of the car in front of me flicked a butt out his window. A butt that, my own windows still being open at that time, I discovered when I drove over it moments later was really very much not composed of tobacco.

And those are all the anecdotes from today's commute, the end.

Monday thoughts -- or -- In which I fail to respect the true haiku form

My babiest girl
The family snowflake expert
Is now four foot three

Blame it on Facebook
Bob wants an ocelot now
It's all Lisa's fault

Pie pie pie pie pie
Chocolate pudding cookie crust
Pie pie pie pie pie

I see origami googling in the future

Actually, I've already done some.

The girls came back this afternoon, and declared that we Must Decorate For Christmas Now. They don't know from Thanksgiving; or rather, they do but not as a prerequisite for Christmas stuff when there's already a lavishly lit house with a Christmas tree on the porch up the street, and the music's playing in the stores and two weeks ago you could already not get birthday wrapping paper at the grocery store, but only Christmas paper.

I have the important things: our stockings, home made by Mom over the years, and the tree skirt she cross stitched for us when the girls were younger. Oh, and a tacky Christmas throw pillow I won at a quilt raffle something or other somewhere along the way. But...well, that seems to be it.

I think I took my ornaments with me when I went to the States for Christmas last year, and I'm pretty sure I left them there. And I don't seem to have brought any of the household decorations when I moved.

Fortunately, we're a crafty bunch and the kids love projects, so we made some snowflakes and paper chains with what was on hand today, and I'll see about acquiring some additional supplies (like, say, some plain white paper to balance out the Phone Book Snowflakes we made today), some non-microwave popcorn for stringing and whatever else we come up with.

Oh, and I do have a few CDs of Christmas music, so that and the activities set the mood to the girls' satisfaction.

Apparently I'm insensitive

It's getting to where every day now, Bob will turn to me and say, "Did you feel that?", and I'll be all, "No.", and he'll go look it up on the US Geological Whateveritis and show me this map that shows (or that he's managed to convince me that shows) that there was just another four-point-something quake a few dozen miles from here.

Sometimes the t-shirts on the clothesline will be stirring the teensiest bit. I don't know if I'm insensitive, or simply desensitized, but I've only noticed it consciously about twice this season.