Santa puked and I feel like doing the same

I feel like it took me forever to decorate for Christmas this year. 

But my plan left all of the decorating to do after I had already worked my 40 hour week:  The kids' tree, the mantel, the other odds and ends Christmas that goes up.  Christmas in just about every room - two trees, Christmas mugs, magnets on the fridge, mini trees in the china cabinet, decorated pillows, wreaths and pinecones.  Too much Christmas.
 

We have a beautiful home and it smells good and is clean, with indoor heat and plumbing, enough food in the fridge and freezer, clothes to wear.  I just dread the commercialism and materialism and stress the holidays bring.  But there are too many Santas and angels all over my house.

My daughter and I had a convo about it.
Me:  There is too damn much Christmas here.  I am toning it way down next year.  Going to give some of it to you to pretty up your place.
She: Christmas is good.
Me:  Yes.  But I feel stressed.  We own so much of it.  Every year I purge it.  Every year it seems to grow by itself!
She:  Oh that's no good.  I decorated my tree as I waited for the AT&T guy on Monday.
Me:  It's a lot to put up and take down.  We decorated the kids' tree and I. Am. Done.
She:  Santa puke is pretty.
Me:  Blergggggg

The reality is, all of the decor is just noise that drowns out the focus of the season itself.  I realize I probably should relax a little and try not to stress it.

The vertigo begins

About a month ago I had an expensive and drawn out experience in the ER.  It did rule out Big Bad Things.  Like stroke.  But I felt a little foolish the entire time, as I was in a pediatric facility.

It just so happens I had already scheduled an appointment with my regular doc the following Monday.  She took one look at my medical record and said  "Well, looks like you had the Million Dollar Work-up".  And that was true - they ordered everything under the sun.  But as my nurse said,  "you're already here and you made us pretty nervous."  Of course, my doc was not concerned with my symptoms.  So, now I have head and eye exercises, as well as "habituation exercise" to do daily, an incidental referral to an ortho doc for my tennis elbow, and I guess a little more piece of mind, with no extra pills to swallow.  

Happier Hours

Hubby and I have discovered that going out more often helps us reconnect. 

On a recent Friday we visited a wine bar in Round Rock and enjoyed some wines by the glass with a goat cheese appetizer - goat cheese, pecans, raspberry chipotle sauce.  The atmosphere on their outside deck was lovely - lots of shady trees and not too crowded.

Then it was off to Jack Allen's Kitchen where we indulged in Red Handed Smash and Grabs, a Pomegranate and Basil Martini, and my favorite drink of all time...

 

...the Mexican Martini.  Lest you think we drink too much, I might add that we also ate dinner and that these drinks were spread out over three hours.  Maybe old age is creeping up on us, but we aren't going to slow the Happy Hour roll anytime soon.  In fact it's a regular thing for me to ask "where are we are going this Friday?".  

More and more

My mother turns 86 today.

Every passing birthday I realize that she won't be around forever, and I resolve to get up to see her more often.  And yet, she is a pretty healthy 86 year old.  Growing her own veggies, tending chickens, taking herself in her pickup truck to play 42 and to the library.  Her handwriting is as neat as always, her hearing intact, and she doesn't complain of anything more than feeling tired after working outside. 

Every time I visit her, she will ask me to take her shopping.  Which in itself, is not an issue, but it makes me worry.  I only visit her every couple of weeks at the most.  Surely she has shopping to do more often than that?  I just get this feeling that she isn't as comfortable getting out and about by herself as much as she used to.  And last time I visited, she mentioned that she wished I lived closer.  Who WOULDN'T want to live closer to a little extra love and help?  So, more and more I think about it.  And sometime sooner, rather than later, we need to look into getting her a little closer to Austin.

What I miss

There were a lot of things that I didn't love about my cat.  Things I knew I wouldn't miss, and I know that makes me sound like a meanie.  But there were just as many things about her that I did love, and they are things I find myself missing.

Her lounging on my bed, open to a belly rub.

Her loving to sit in open windows, sniffing the air.

Her being near me, no matter where I was in the house.  And usually waiting near the front door when I walked in from work.

Always near me.  She knew I was her person.

The ways and places she would nap.

 Her calm and sweet demeanor.

Her helpfulness with laundry.

 Her loyalty to me when I was recovering from knee surgery.

Her gently inquisitive ways.  She wouldn't even hurt a hamster.

Just sweet, gentle, unassuming, and perfect for all of us.  

I miss her.