An Impending Holiday, Washing My Face With Hand Soap, Killing My House Plants

The week before a major holiday can only be described as chaotic, and that's if you're being kind. If you're not being kind, it could be described as the kind of situation that transforms procrastinators into list makers, laid back folks into testy 'these towels aren't going to fold themselves' yellers.

My dear, sweet, laid back husband is an example of this. Any other time of the year, he lounges on the couch, smiles sweetly and says, "Ehhh, we've got all the time in the world" while I run through the house with a dust mop, hair like Weird Al and a slight twitch in my left eye. But not this week. He raked the yard like the Energizer Bunny on speed, pre-cooked onions for the stuffing, and even helped me polish the silver.

I, on the other hand, awoke this morning so addled that I accidentally washed my face with cherry almond hand soap (my skin is now dry enough to crack if I smile too wide). I also yelped when I remembered my houseplants outside who thankfully didn't freeze to death last night. And as I dragged them inside, treating my neighbors to a glimpse of me in my grandma slippers and sweat pants... I realized that some things will fall through the cracks.

Some things will be forgotten. Like scrubbing the shower curtain, or putting the stack of Halloween decorations in the guest room back in the attic. It probably won't be the kind of holiday I'd feel comfortable inviting Martha Stewart too.

But there is a flip side to all this pre-holiday bumper car buggies in the supermarket, and that's the expectation of a change in pace. A change in schedule. A change in our outlooks.

I usually begin most Monday mornings with a deep sigh, a wistful gaze at the coffee pot and the thought, "I hope I make it this week" running through my head like the French distress signal that plays over and over again on Lost.

But today I'm smiling. It's a short week, decaffeinated coffee isn't so bad, and soon it will be time for a vacation. Time for a change. Time for family, food, and Macy's Thanksgiving parade on tv. It makes all the leaf raking and towel folding worth it, especially since this is the very first holiday we've ever had at our house as a married couple.

So happy pre-holiday week. Let's all take a deep breath and stop giving ourselves paper cuts as we frantically search for an easy pie recipe in our cookbooks. Who needs Martha and perfectly clean homes? It's the beginning of one of the most cheerful seasons of the year, and frankly, I welcome the change.

Forget Spring, It's Fall Cleaning

Why does everyone talk about spring cleaning? Shouldn't it be fall cleaning? After all, it's the beginning of early darkness, movies on the couch, and snow. Isn't THIS the time we're supposed to clean our houses? When we're going to be stuck in them for months on end? It makes sense to me.


We're enacting some fall cleaning around here. Mostly because in less than a week it will be Thanksgiving and the house will be full of family members who might yell, "Gross Liz... there's a dust bunny in the corner with Cheetos wrapped in the center." To which I would reply, "Not so fast... that's dessert."


Anyway, we're cleaning. And clearing out closets full of things we'll never use, like old letter jackets. There are some people that cling to high school. Apparently, judging by the look of disdain written on Matt's face, he isn't one of them. Wish us luck.

Talkers vs. Non-Talkers

I am a talker.
Matt is a non-talker.

Things can get stressful.

Me: "Hey! Guess what? I found this vintage turquoise phone and GUESS WHAT?"

Matt: "Hmmmm."

Me: "It was only $5!"

Matt: "Cool."

Me: "Of course they cut the wires off the back. But can you believe it? These things are usually $40! Can you believe it?"

Matt: "Cool."

Me, frowning: "No. Really. Can you believe it? Do you know how long I've wanted one of these?"

Matt: "That's good baby."

Me, hands on hips: "You know... you're hard to talk to."

Matt, taken aback, "What are you talking about?"

Me: "Well, I'm trying to tell you how excited I am about this phone and all you can say is 'cool'."

Matt, officially confused, "What else is there to say?"

Me, huffy: "Forget it. Just forget it."

Matt: "Oh well, excuse me. Let me try this again. Wow Liz. That's the most monumentally fantastic phone I've ever laid eyes on."

Me, pursed lips: "Funny. Really funny."

Matt (now on a roll), clasps his hands together: "Is that OK? I can do better... I CANNOT believe you found it so cheap! You practically stole that from them, I think I might jump up and down with GLEE."

Me: struggling to maintain my scowl and not laugh.

Matt: " I can ONLY DREAM of finding such a fantastic antique store score one day myself. I prefer the cotton candy pink phones, will you keep an eye out for one of those? I could put it in my office!"

Me, laughing, shouting, stomping from the room: "SHUT UP MATT."

See what I mean? Talkers vs. Non-talkers.

It's a mine field.

I Can Learn A Lot From Mabel

After my recent skirmish with disappointment and gloominess, I decided to take note of Mabel's life plan. We can all learn a lot from her when it comes to simple steps. Basically, it all comes down to four things.

1. Rest

Mabel is the queen of resting. Note her relaxed posture, her entire body weight squishing down on the red throw pillow beneath her portly figure. Note her unconcerned attitude, her resting head. Mabel is not thinking about bills or cars or concerns. She is thinking:

"Gosh, whatever they're cooking in that kitchen sure smells good. Wait a minute, let me readjust myself so I can be more comfortable and smash this throw pillow into complete oblivion. There, that's much better. I wonder if they'd give me some of that food..."

2. Be Alert

Nothing gets by this dog. Not a squirrel in the front yard. Not a mail man. Not a runner. And when I hissed her name to get her to look at the camera, "Mabel!" her little head jerked upright in a mere nanosecond. Why? Because she's alert, and obviously thinking:

"What!? Are we going walking? Are you going to give me some of that food I'm smelling? Do we get to go in the car? Can I kill a squirrel? What? What? What?"

3. Play

She runs. She jumps. But by far the most annoying thing Mabel does is assault me with her toys, namely Big Mean Kitty. That's what we call this poor deflated, tooth torn stuffed animal. Mabel never stops playing. She also never stops slamming her toys into the side of my leg like so....

I have bruises from this activity. Some bruises are in the shape of harder toy edges. Some bruises are actually the shape of Mabel's nose as she skids across the living room at 20 miles an hour and slams into my calf muscle. Either way, Mabel plays. It rains, she plays. The sun comes out, she plays. Two in the morning and perched on the end of our bed, she still plays.

4. Hope

Hope never dies in this house, mostly because Mabel is one big giant gut. She eats, sleeps, breathes and thinks with her stomach. When Matt cooks, she's right underfoot, haunting the oven, growling, "Give me some food, give me some food, GIVE ME SOME FOOD THIS DOG FOOD YOU PUT IN MY BOWL IS AWFUL."

Nevertheless, I admire her never-say-die spirit. I admire the fact that despite going days, weeks, sometimes a month without getting table food, she still hopes. She's still shows up in the kitchen. She's still begging. THAT'S hope.

Never mind the fact that she sleeps (possibly) 15 hours a day, she still appreciates her beauty sleep. Never mind the fact that she has never killed a squirrel or a mail man, she's still alert. Never mind the fact that I yell at her every time she skids sideways into my leg with a toy, she's still determined to play. And never mind the fact that we never give her the good smelling steak or mashed potatoes she dreams about, she still begs. She still hopes.

So in summation, thank you ladies. Thank you for your kind encouragement, your prayers, and your comments that always make my day. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to spend my day being like Mabel. Resting, still alert, still hoping, and most importantly, sniffing through the fridge in search of good food.

On a Happier Note: Some Inspiration & More Childhood Humiliation

Kelli posted about a decor project here... and what a sweetheart she is for lifting my spirits on a day like today! Thanks Kelli.

And since nothing on this earth makes me laugh like our old childhood pictures, here's a shot of Rebecca in her finest attire.

In the front yard.

Pants-less in front of the neighbors.

I feel better already.

Happy In My Shoes: November Purple

The morning sky puts on a beautiful show the closer we get to winter. There's nothing more peaceful that standing outside with Mabel and watching the dark purple sky turn lavender, then periwinkle, until the sun peaks over the roof of the house.

I stand still and breathe the cold air in and out while the geese call down by the lake. There are no cars, no honking horns. There is no stress, no commute, just me in my pajamas in the half light while Mabel skips happily across the yard and the sun stretches across the horizon.

I'm struggling to be at peace with life right now. There are some things I'll air happily on this blog, and others that are a little too raw, too personal, too cry-baby-ish. This is one of them. But I will say this: I've been dealing with a square peg/round hole scenario.

I don't deal with disappointment very well. My initial reaction is to lie on the ground and kick, peek open one eye to see who's watching, and kick some more. It's not a peaceful reaction. It's not a pretty one either. And lately, I've spent a lot of time kicking.


But while I may be struggling to grasp the concept of peace, these morning moments help. They help me remember what I believe. Because I believe that my life, however it plays out, is part of a plan. A plan that God will give me the ability to be at peace with, no matter the end result. No matter the disappointments. No matter the square pegs.

And while it's easy to forget this amidst bumper to bumper traffic, it's clearly revealed every morning in the quiet cold, under the purple November sky.

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Why I Don't Craft

I decided to be adventurous this weekend. I decided to venture into Michael's and actually buy crafty stuff. There were big plans afoot.

Until everything went awry. Like it always does when I attempt to use glue or glitter or scissors or tape.

See? I told you I was craft-challenged.

Just don't ask.

On the upside, you know those fabulous Mistletoe and Pine scented Yankee candles that can almost smell like a real tree? Well, Michael's has these guys on sale for $3.99, and I cannot tell the difference between the two smells.

I think I'll stick to spray paint and candles from now on and leave the glitter to the professionals.