Fourthborn and I watched all six hours of the Gilmore Girls marathon while Middlest mostly slept.
I found two clear plastic containers into which I could decant the cake/cupcake stand from my wedding reception and get it out of the house. Along with the larger Christmas tree, they are massively in the way, because we haven't actually opened the door to the garage and schlepped them.
I've hung two items on the dining room wall and temporarily shoved the armchairs which normally occupy the head and foot of the table to either side of the piano so that we have clear access on both sides to the small Christmas tree, which is set up on the table in front of the window, just as it was last year and the year before. The tree is skirted and partially decorated, which we did between episodes of Gilmore Girls.
The house smells like potato leek soup, because we have been eating cookies and milk, or pumpkin pie with the last of the squirt whipping cream, or hummus and crackers, all day long and wanted some real food. It also smells like Scentsy, because I've had the small burner going in my room most of the day.
I'm girding myself to go back into the kitchen and put the last of the soup into pint jars for my lunches next week, then feed the dishwasher and oh holy cow, I'm half an hour late for my evening meds. Be right back.
Except the Oh Look Shiny kicked in, and I went out to the kitchen and fed the dishwasher. And then I got my meds and discovered that the only bottled water left was out in the car. So I put on my shoes (but not my bra, because it's dark-thirty out there) and schlepped a couple of bags out to the recycling bin. They've been breeding like tribbles by the front door.
Unlocked the car on my side, only to discover that the bottles were under the jump seat on the passenger side, so I clicked again and walked around the Tardis. Grabbed the partial case of water, and the bottom of the wrap died, and two bottles made a break for it. I found one at the side of the driveway. Came back in and took out the rest of the recycling. (Sorry, tribbles.)
Got in the car and drove it as far forward as I could without hitting the garage door. No bottle. Just a vague gleam in the gutter across the street. So I crossed the street and sure enough, it was my runaway bottle. I showed it who was boss: brought it into the house, set it down on my desk, and carefully took the cap off. This batch of bottles has been consistently more full than the usual lot, and Middlest and I have frequently ended up with wet shirts or laps while wrestling with them.
So it's after 11:00, and I'm waiting for the muscle relaxer to kick in so I can maybe get some sleep. I'm a little wired from six hours of Gilmore Girls and virtual coffee. But I'd call it a successful day. I may have set foot outside of the house, but I haven't gotten out of my pajamas.
Take that, Black Friday!
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!