It’s so cliche to say that I can’t believe how quickly the year has passed, but, seriously, I cannot believe that it’s already November.
Where does the time go?
While I’m sad to wave good bye to October, and the fact that fall will turn into a chilly winter before we know it, November brings some fun stuff (my birthday!), so I’ll focus on the happy. On the bright side, when I see Christmas decorations in the stores that have been up since the Back-to-school supply displays were taken down, I won’t feel as annoyed anymore. The commissary was playing Christmas music on Sunday and I noticed this morning that the Dollar Tree store next to my gym had Christmas stockings in the window. It makes me kind of sad that you can’t enjoy one holiday before the next is being shoved in your face. We still have turkeys to roast and pumpkin pies to bake before worrying about Christmas stockings and trees.
Actually, this Thanksgiving I won’t be roasting a turkey. We’re taking a trip to North Carolina and sharing Thanksgiving with Craig’s sister and her family. It’ll be kind of strange not cooking the Thanksgiving meal, but, on the bright side (always thinking positively!) I won’t have my annual turkey meltdown and the accompanying sweat and tears of frustration. I like the sound of that. However, I do not like the fact that we won’t have any leftovers to munch on for days after.
Speaking of turkeys, today and tomorrow are Teacher workdays, so my house was brimming with turkeys this afternoon. It started innocently enough with Caroline and Bailey constructing another giant fort in our living room. After a brief visit from Bailey’s little brother and some heavy duty bickering resulting in the little brother leaving in a huff, Caroline and Bailey went outside to meet the new neighbors.
A few minutes later the two girls were dragging moving boxes across the street and into our house. The boxes, destined for the recycle pick up pile, were brimming with packing paper. The sight of large moving boxes and mountains of packing paper gives me the shivers, reminding me of the many hours I’ve spent opening boxes, unwrapping my (hopefully still intact) household items, breaking down boxes and smooshing as much paper into garbage bags as I possibly can.
Such is the life of a military wife.
Anyway, they brought the boxes in, haphazardly threw all the paper out of the boxes and onto the floors and proceeded to sit in the boxes while eating a snack; a fun and completely harmless way to spend the day. Before long, two more girls and at least four more boxes joined the mix. I had packing paper EVERYWHERE. I’m sure the neighbors were more than elated to pass their mess on to someone else. In the spirit of being neighborly, I picked up all the paper and put it out with the recycling instead of dumping it on their front lawn. Not that I’d ever really do that; I’m a wee bit too passive for that sort of behavior.
Undeniably, the kids had a blast and I’ll gladly take that over a pristine house, anyday.
I think. Maybe.
But, like I said, the boxes and copious amounts of crumbled up paper, conjured up all sorts of previous moving
memories nightmares. Thankfully we have a little more than a year and a half before we have to pack it up and move on again. Changing location can be fun, but unpacking and getting resettled is for the birds.
I’m sure we’ll have a repeat of today’s box fun tomorrow and Wednesday I’ll be skipping and singing, as I walk Caroline to school in the morning. Four day weekends are just too long.
Tomorrow I am volunteering at the school to help distribute the gift wrap orders for one the of PTA’s fundraisers. I HATE fundraisers, especially the gift wrap, small trinket catalog fundraisers. I don’t even try to sell the stuff because no one wants it and it’s all cheaply made and/or expensive. Even though I didn’t buy any gift wrap, I’m going to help hand out orders to those who did. It’s the least I can do.
Last year I wasn’t on the PTA volunteer list; this year I get an email a couple of times a week asking for helpers. Not surprisingly, I’ve signed up to provide baked goods whenever that option is available.
Speaking of baked goods….holy crow, this is a random post…..I did some baking for Craig’s work mates this afternoon. A co worker of his requested a whole pan of butterscotch cashew bars to bring home to her family and I also baked up some apple pie crumble bars for Craig to share with everyone else. Needless to say, the house smelled wonderful this afternoon. Unfortunately the intoxicating aromas could not compete with the aftermath of what Hurricane Caroline and her thunderstorm posse did to my house as they blew through.
Sure the house smelled of brown sugar, apples and cinnamon, but in my neurotic mind, all I saw were pieces of corrugated cardboard on the floor (the remnants of the air holes they cut into their boxes) and crumbled up paper balls in the base of my fake ficus tree that were used in a paper ball war yesterday. And let’s not even talk about the 37 throw blankets and pillows and enough packing paper to make a sequoia tree in my living room.
And to make this post even more random, I almost forgot to feed my neighbor’s cat this weekend. They went out of town and asked that we feed Wilbur on Saturday, Sunday and Monday (today). Saturday was a busy day with soccer, rain, last minute costume repairs and trick or treating, but I remember saying to Caroline around lunch time that we’d go feed Wilbur after we got back from the store. Well….at 11:15pm Saturday night, I was laying on the couch, just about to fall asleep when I suddenly remembered Wilbur. Eep.
I threw on some shoes, grabbed my jacket and ran over to their house as fast as I could.
The key they gave me is new and it sticks in the locks, which made entry into their house a little difficult.
So there I was at 11:15pm, dressed in dark clothing, except for my big white legs left uncovered by my pajama shorts, trying to work my way into a house that wasn’t mine. I hoped and prayed that one of the other neighbors wouldn’t get suspicious and call the police. I did not want to answer to the police while wearing a tank top, shorts, running shoes without socks, and a jacket. Thankfully I got in and fed a VERY HUNGRY cat without a hitch; I locked the door, wrestled with the key, turned to go back home and then remembered that I also had to feed their fish. Duh! Again, I fiddled with the sticky key, fed the fish, who was also quite eager to be fed, and made it home.
I didn’t hear any sirens, so I assume none of the neighbors noticed my “suspicious activity.” That’s good. As it has always been a goal of mine to never appear on an episode of Cops OR to get a mug shot while wearing pajamas and no make up.
At least I have my priorities straight.