Painter's Claw

I am mentally willing my right hand to unclench. It's locked in "painter's claw" as I have spent the better part of the week in the exercise room, painting trim. The original trim was this deep, dark orange (Don't ask. We're not the ones who did it). But it took primer and 3 coats of paint to cover it.  Some panels on the door actually took four coats. At that point I was just a madwoman, flinging white paint at anything that stood still.

Still...it's beautiful. Tonight we move the furniture back in and the room is ready for use.

It's been a good week. Wednesday night, Blair and I went to hear the Trans-Siberian orchestra with our good friends Pam and Michael. The concert started at 8 and we snuck out about 10:30, while they were still playing.

"You know you're getting old when you leave the concert early to beat the traffic," joked Blair.

"Hey, high-five on being first ones out of the parking lot! Whoo-hoo!" we chimed in.

The music was great but very LOUD. There's another sign of aging. The wish that they could tone it down, just a bit. That, and is it really necessary for us to be on our feet? Can't we all just sit down and enjoy the music? (You can see why I've never been much of a concert goer...)

It's a small world. Of the 1100 people at the concert, I bumped into my writer friend Maggie while standing in line in the ladies room. Of all the gin joints in all the world...

Today is a special day. We don't buy fish today but we ARE going into Greensboro and purchasing the tank, stand, gravel, and accruements in anticipation of setting up a happy little fish home. But shhh...it's a surprise. Don't tell the cats.

Choosing A Daytimer for the New Year

I am a "month-at-a-glance" woman. Have been since college. Given that I am not an overly social human being, I like being able to open my calendar and see where events lie for the month in order not to crowd my schedule with back-to-back events, if at all avoidable.

However, this means I cart around what is almost a full 8 1/2 x 11 inch wirebound appointment calendar.  It's fine to slip into my computer bag, but doesn't fit into a purse or glove compartment.

So this is the year. Yesterday Blair and I were at Office Depot and I took a deep breath and made the leap. I am now officially a "week-at-a-glance" gal. My new daytimer is the size of a small flip notebook and slips easily into my purse.  I spent the morning entering information (how can my April weekends already be filled?) and have to admit, I felt a bit of anxiety.  It's so small.  I'm hoping the appeal will kick in sooner rather than later.

And no, I am not an electronic schedule keeper. Friends have let me play with the schedule function on their Blackberry's and I find them heinous. All that having to click on a day to enlarge the appointment to see what you've written about it and scrolling back and forth on days... forget it.  The convenience factor escapes me.  But in all fairness, I'm about as far away from "techie" as a person can get.

So I'm hoping the 30 minutes I spent holding first one weekly daytime and then another before making my choice was time well spent.  Could open a whole new world from me. Three years from now, I may even be ready to make the leap to "day-at-a-glance."

'Cause that's the wild kind of woman I am.

Christmas Card Lethargy

I have a bit of the bah-humbug spirit about me. That's why the day after Thanksgiving used to be my "I'll deal with Christmas today and today only" day. We would get up at 4 AM to hit the early bird sales and be home by 10 to set up the tree and decorate the house. I'd wrap presents in the early afternoon and spend the rest of the day addressing holiday cards to be mailed out on the first of December.  In short, I never had to go near a mall or store for the entire month of December and could enjoy the holidays pretty close to stress free.

Things have changed. We still hit the early bird specials this year, but we left the house at 5 instead of 4, and took a coffee/bagel break around 9:30 and didn't get home until almost noon. We put the tree up on Saturday and got the house ready, but I haven't even thought about addressing cards. I think I'm feeling ambivalent about the cost, what with the price of stamps and all. Plus, I'd like to include my marathon results in my holiday letter, so what's the point of getting them ready early?

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but we hit the after Thanksgiving sales for things we needed and so I haven't bought a single gift. (We only buy for our niece and nephews though, so one visit to a Toys-R-Us usually does the trick.) So it appears that this year I may have to enter the holiday season like a normal person would. So far it hasn't been too bad. My workload has finally slowed, so I feel like there is room to breath and maneuver. And so what if my card isn't the first one out the door. Who's keeping track anyway?

Not me.

You Can't Handle The Truth

I spoke to my sister today, comparing holiday notes. We got to talking about kids, as she has two young ones and my 6-year-old nephew had been with us for Thanksgiving. We discussed how kids always tell the truth.  My sister's husband frequently says that having children keeps him humble, as they are only all too eager to point out flaws or inconsistencies.

"I know what you mean," I told my sister. "At the table on Thanksgiving, Blair and I sat down with my nephew and my sister-in-law. My nephew looked around the table at everyone's plate before declaring (quite loudly), 'Aunt Dena has the most!'"

My sister burst out laughing. Since that amused her so much, I also shared with her the joke L. (my nephew) had made up. He's in that bad "I'll create my own joke phase" where he'll say things like, "Why did the peanut cross the road... to get to the cow!" And you're left standing there like, "Uh-huh. Funny."

So he'd been telling a few of these lame jokes and then he said, "Why did Uncle Blair kiss Aunt Dena?" And we all said, "I don't know. Why?" And he said, "I don't know either!!" It was actually quite funny.

I had L. help me make the pumpkin pie on Wednesday night. Since he'd helped make it, we thought he would want to eat it but he kept saying no. Finally we coaxed him into taking one small bite. His face immediately contorted and I knew what was coming.

"GROSS!" he said, sticking his tongue in and out as if hoping the air would cleanse it.

"Just say, 'Thank you, I don't care for any more,'" coached his mom.

"ACK!" said L., reaching for his water with one hand while clutching his throat with the other.  "Argh...blech, blech, blech."  Retching sounds commenced.

I do miss being that age and the honesty that comes with it. Honesty, but perhaps a lack of observation skills.

Anyone seated at that table could have told you that Uncle Blair had much more food than me.