So, I'm realizing it's been two weeks since I did a Friday Ramble..
which is way too long.
We have had an election and the paint guys are finished. I have done an art show and am getting ready for two more. Part of the house is actually finished.
So far, we know the employees at Lowe's Hardware by name.
Oh, and here's a fun part of remodeling. Your husband calls and doesn't ask if you need him to pick up milk at the store, he calls to ask if you need anything picked up at Lowe's.
Of course, just when you think it's almost done, someone comes in and tears something up again. Like today.
When our house was built, I am totally convinced the builders were stone drunk. Either that, or it was built by a couple of three year olds.
Our walls bow out, the windows aren't square, the flashing was never installed, and the stairs were never properly built. You could put your hand in between the carpet and stairs...a big, gaping hole. Kinda creepy, but NOT ANY MORE. Nosireebob. We have proper stairs now.
I still haven't gotten to use a nail gun yet.
Hopefully that will change soon.
There is something life changing about remodeling.
In our case, it's cabinet locks on the cupboard where the trash goes.
Miss Party is not happy, however.
I promise pictures of the house. As soon as I find my camera.
Is your area being bombarded with Christmas advertisements? I think the marketing industry is making up for lost time. I am so not ready. It's a little crazy around here. Some businesses can't make up their mind.
In one day, I went from this:
Thanks for the reminder so I won't forget the date...
Do you listen to an "oldie" station on the radio? My eldest does, and sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't like to be reminded just how old I have become. Sometimes it is a fun flashback. Like this weekend, for example.
"Taking Care of Business" by Bachman Turner Overdrive came on when
I was in the car with Lauren and Brenna. Immediately, I was transferred back in time.
"TWO WORDS, LAUREN. TWO WORDS!!!" I yell. Lauren says, "Ohhh-kaaay. What two words, Mom?"
"Wow, mom. I bet you tore that rink up."
My child knows me too well. I could never quite let go of the ledge, but in my mind, I was flying in circles around the rink. In my dittos.
Google it if you are too young.
We tore it up on the merry go round this weekend.
Much easier than a roller rink.
Let's change to the subject of grief, shall we?
It's our first Holiday Season without our mom.
I found myself at Trader Joe's yesterday, actually grocery shopping to actually cook, which is not something you do a lot when the house is covered in plastic and men are painting until 8 p.m. (Yet another plus of remodeling.)
I was in the frozen food isle, and I looked up at the shelves.
Rows and rows of Holiday Cookies.
I thought someone had punched me in the chest.
My mom loved sweets. Holiday cookies were the best. Stars, shortbread, chocolate, my sister's gum drop cookies, little sugar santas, cupcakes with the little plastic bells stuck into the frosting...you name it, she bought it over the years.
I walked away, blinking back tears.
Unfortunately, I had to go back through the frozen isle and I found myself staring at the boxes of stars and peanut brittle as if they could give me an answer as to why grief is so confusing.
I ended up locked in the bathroom for a big boo-hoo.
At the check out, the nice man asked me, "How are you doing today?" I contemplated telling him that my day began by the battery in my car dying and I was locked in the bathroom of his store by 10:00 in the morning, crying over Christmas cookies.
However, I refrained and instead, told him I was "fine." Which I basically was, thanks to the lock on the bathroom door.
How about that time change?
Brenna and I are starving at 5:00 and she wants her pajamas on. I think it's time to go to bed by 7:00.
It's also not good for cooking dinner on the BBQ. I do this as far into the year as I can. But I just can't start the meat by 4:00, so the end result was putting on my husband's head light he uses for biking.
Brenna thinks I have lost my mind.