I had high hopes that it'd be sunny today, but so far no luck. The weather prognosticator said it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow, that's when I really want sunshine because my friend Lala is coming up to visit tomorrow. We're going to take a walk, either along the bay, river, or creek, they're all outside so I'd like it to be nice. Then after a lovely dinner of salmon, parsnips, and squash we're going to a Christmas concert. I'm looking forward to it. That means that today I get to clean up this sty, change the sheets on the guest bed, and swamp out the bathroom. It really needs it since there's been very little of the cleaning action since Mom died. (I typed "died" first and then I deleted it thinking that word would offend some people but, dammit, that's what she did, she died, and if I can't just say it, well, bite me. I'm not a euphemistic sort of gal, I'm more of an in your face, call a spade a spade kind of woman, so you'll just have to deal.[sorry for the mini-rant, it's that kind of day, back to our regularly scheduled blogging]) The party mix turned out fabulous yesterday. I came home from knit night and put it into the Tupperware. Amazingly, about 2 cups of it stuck to the bowl I used to scoop it from baking pan to Tupperware. I made the sacrifice and ate it. (I am a saint and sometimes martyr. Just ask me.) DS told me the Christmas dinner menu yesterday and we're having Yorkshire pudding! I've never had that and I'm so excited to try it. Durwood's making some sort of meatball appetizers (he's got meatballs on the brain since he learned a trick for making them uniform, he's considering reopening the meatball sweatshop when DD & DIL2 are home and making some Italian Wedding soup; I'll take pictures) and DIL1's mom's making the dessert. I won't have to do anything but look pretty. (Hmm, that may take more concentration than I planned... oh well, I can put on my bright red cashmere sweater and dazzle people so they won't notice I'm not Angelina Jolie. I know, there's a red sparkly sweater way in the back of my closet, sparkly will confuse them--AND I have some jingle earrings and a jingle headband, that'll distract 'em too. I'm set.) It should be a good day--presents, family and good food, oh and Porter too. I'm just now learning how comforting it is to sit and stroke a dog when you're sad. Porter is nearly always willing to be petted if I sit on the floor. She climbs into my lap and sits there as long as I'll pet. Works for me.
December 16--Mesopotamia or Iran, Striding Figure with Ibex Horns, Raptor Skin Draped Around the Shoulders, and Upturned Boots. Pip was quick on his feet. Miss Daley would hardly be back to her lunch in the kitchen and he'd be out of bed. He learned at an early age how to get from the nursery on the second floor to the study where all the good things were. He liked the big atlases with the vast blue of the oceans hemming in the colorful continents and dotted with islands. Interspersed with the books were artifacts collected on Pip's ancestors' trips all over the world. Pip's father, uncles, and grandfathers had all gone off exploring to see more exotic parts of the world than the staid life they led at home and Pip was fascinated by each and every one. Only during his daily afternoon rest, he was too old for them to call it a nap, was he able to spend the time with them that he wanted.
I'm off to eat Cheerios and then attach the dust buffaloes that have infested our happy home. See ya!