What a Month!

Last year, I had the worst Christmas ever. No kidding, it was the worst that I can remember. Mr. Vagabond was sour, and eventually I turned sour as well. We didn't even give each other presents! The whole thing was a great beg *meh.* Because I didn't want a repeat, I emailed him in October with details about how this year we'd do Christmas my way. 

My way includes no "I don't care one way or the other" comments about a Christmas tree, and there'd also be no Bah Humbugs when I played Christmas music. He replied to my email quickly. The first line said, "It isn't even Halloween yet!" Afterward, he said, "I am suddenly plum full up with Christmas spirit… because I know what's good for me." I think there was a "Yes ma'am" in there somewhere, as well. 

So I was all set to deck the halls and sing Jingle Bells, bake Christmas goodies and essentially have a rockin' Christmas this year. 

And then it happened. 

I developed a thing. We shall only refer to this thing as a thing, because really and truly that is all you wanna know. I had to have minor, outpatient surgery on this thing. The minor part ended abruptly when after five attempts at local anesthesia, everyone in three counties understood that anesthesia wasn't going to work. Because he was out of town, like he usually is, and I drove myself, like I usually do, there was no hope for stronger meds. My solution was to alternate between blood-curdling screams and trying in vain to bite the pillow on the doctor's table in half while she basically cut off my leg with a dull chainsaw. Really. 

Ok, not really. She didn't cut off my leg. The dull chainsaw part remains to be determined since that's exactly what it felt like.

After two hours of the fun and games, I was sent home with a prescription for mind-altering pain meds and antibiotics, both of which consumed the lining of my stomach. More fun. I was broken on the inside and the outside.

So there I was, my hubby plum full up with Christmas spirit, and me whining on the couch and unable to even set up the tree. The clock was ticking.

After about a week, I did manage to get Fred set up and decked out. You remember Fred, my dependable little 4-footer. I added more decorations throughout the house and took pictures in between snoring episodes on the couch. Mr. V. came home and we had a reasonably nice Christmas, even though I was still barely ambulatory.

The day after Christmas, he had a dr. appointment of his own. Because I am super awesome, I went with him. It only took about five minutes in the waiting room to remember that doctors' waiting rooms in wintertime are no place for any healthy human being to be. And yet there we were, breathing in every germ-laden sneeze and cough inside that stylishly decorated room.

They should really issue HazMat suits to everyone who walks through the door.



Lying in bed approximately 48 hours later, I sneezed. I rarely sneeze, so this was noteworthy. When I sneezed again, I felt his eyes bearing down on the side of my head. I pretended not to notice. And then I coughed. And then I pulled the covers over my head and demanded, "I AM NOT SICK!"

"You'd better not be."

He's such a sweetie. Ha.

So here we are on December 30, trading swallows from the NyQuil bottle and chasing them with Motrin. We have three flavors of cough drops and enough chicken soup in the house to feed a small country.

I still won't accept responsibility for bringing the plague into the house. If I did catch it first, that's only because I was a goodly wife and accompanied him to the doctor. I do think I need to reassess my Christmas plans for next year, though. Christmas My Way doesn't seem to be anything like what I'd hoped.

I hope your holidays have been much kinder to you!

(It's worse than I thought. The cat just sneezed, too!)

Things I Love

Today seems like a good day to talk a little about things I love. Although Baby New Year tried his best to hack me off at the knees, I have prevailed. Today is a good day.

In honor of this good day, I shall share one of my favorite things as it applies to January 5, 2012.

These are the most delicious slippers ever imagined. Restoration Hardware calls them foot duvets. Swanky.

Luxury Plush Foot Duvets | Robes & Slippers | Restoration Hardware

If your feet had mouths, they would thank you. They would also look weird, and you might suffocate while wearing slippers. Maybe it's best that the sentiment remains unspoken between you and your tootsies. 

We have established that my house is about as cold as a… oops, there might be children present. My house is cold. My sister gave me the red foot duvets (That's just fun to say) for Christmas last year, and I have praised her name to the rooftops ever since. They even make up for the hair pulling when we were kids, and that's saying a lot. Two days ago, I let Mr. Vagabond try them out. I nearly had to invoke the Headlock of Doom to get them back.

He said: Hey!  They'll be easy for me to slip off at the airport security gate.

She said: Drop the slippers, Buster. 

I ran off with them while he was in the shower. 

If the idea of toasty toes puts a spring in your step, scamper off to Restoration Hardware while these goosedown-filled, plush-lined, microfiber lovelies are still on sale. At $12, they're cheaper than a pair of Dearfoams, and they survive repeated launderings much better.

Surprise! Winter is Here

I planned to update my blog weekly, or thereabouts. Sometimes, life has other plans. Since writing is cathartic, which is a nice way of saying that it keeps me from going fully insane, I thought I'd share a bit of my January 3, 2012, as it has progressed thus far.

Throughout Mr. Vagabond's vacation at home, I've made terrific progress with my resolution to stay up as late as I want and sleep as late as I want. My mother isn't thrilled, since I no longer answer my phone at 7:30 a.m., but that's the pretty much the only downside. 

Today I woke at approximately noon to learn that the living room was 36 degrees. Fahrenheit! Gypsy and Sinner were curled together in a big blonde and black, furry ball on the sofa. If you know anything about my dogs, you know that this was a rare scene, indeed. Sinner may despise Gypsy, but she ain't stupid. Gypsy is big. And warm. As I opened the foyer doors, they both glared at me as if to say, "Look who has arrived from her cozy warm bed to mingle with the commoners." Ok, maybe Sinner's glare said that. Gypsy's expression was more like, "Huh?" *adjust, stretch, yawn, ZZzzzzzzzz*

Although I had yet to make coffee, I was clear-headed enough to know that seeing my own breath in the living room was not a good sign. I soon discovered that someone had flipped the wrong button on the radiator last night. I'm not one to point fingers, but she was wearing two pairs of socks, fuzzy pajama pants, a pink and white baseball jersey and her favorite Finding Forrester cardigan. Ok, fine; it was me. I put it on a timer instead of upping the thermostat. Because I am smart like that.

I see a lot of hats in my immediate future. 

Unfortunately, a living room that was comparable to Antarctica wasn't the pinnacle of what I learned this morning… er, afternoon. 

When I reached the usual first destination that one visits upon waking each day, I noticed an extension cord -not- plugged into the outlet above the vanity. This was not a good sign. There is one reason, and only one reason, why that particular extension cord is ever plugged in. It powers the heated water pipe wrap under the house. When it's not plugged in . . . well, you get the idea.

Long story short, too late:  Today, we have no water. Well, I suppose we do have water, but in its solid state, it's of no use for things like showers, cooking and generally going about the day. 

Wait.  No water means no coffee. 

Quick-like, I ran out to the little Mom & Pop grocery store and returned triumphantly with two gallons of water. If you ever want to gain a full understanding of how much water you use in an average day, pour it from gallon jugs. After filling the coffee pot, the dogs' water bowls and the pot to make chicken and dumplings, there was nary a drop left. I brushed my teeth with Listerine. Mmmmm. Spicy!

So January 2012 has started off with a bang. I foresee $600 electric bills, skyrocketing water bills (we have to let it drip to prevent another freezing episode) and lots of warm hats. I suppose it's a good time to start my annual Spring Countdown.