Posts Tagged ‘home’

35 degrees.   School vacation week.  About an hour before naps.

Go nuts, my little men.  Go nuts.

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You Make Me Happy

There’s nothing like morning sunshine.  And my new kitchen, thankfully, bathes in it.   So, no matter what side of the bed I roll out on, I can just pad on down the hall, brew a cup, settle in and smile.

Good morning.

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Ok.  We’ll consider this a running list.

1) If I come visit your house and your toilet paper runs from the bottom of the roll instead of up and over the top, I will change it.  I will.
2) I might snore.  He says I do but he might just say that because he knows it mortifies me to hell to think it actually might be true.
3) I have a pair of UGG boots and I have no idea whether I’m supposed to tuck the jeans in or wear the jeans out (you can’t Google this sh*t with any reliability).  So, I alternate and just hope that the right people see me at the right times.  That’s probably not likely to be happening for me, is it?
4) I ignore the phone.  Like, almost always.   And, I know that most people who call me probably know I’m home because I live on a busy road, people see my car, I have a very predictable schedule and, well, I almost never go anywhere.  But, don’t take it personally.  It’s not you.  It’s me.
5) I am incapable of going to bed with dishes in the sink.  Can not do it.  So, when you’re a guest for dinner or here for a weekend, don’t be offended if I ignore you for a bit after dinner while I clean up.  I will be much better company when it’s done.  If it really bothers you, then let me know because I’ll probably need to stop inviting you over.  And, if I’m being completely honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable if I’m an overnight guest at your house and you leave dishes in the sink overnight.  I know.  Issues.  Oh well.

To be continued…

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I just have to say.  Obsessively Compulsive people such as myself make excellent snow shovelers.

Unfortunately, Obsessively Compulsive people, such as myself, are also not capable of posting a picture of the outside of one’s house without noticing the flag is caught up on the pole.  Therefore, leading one to grab a large broom, a kitchen chair, head outside to climb said chair, and stand on tiptoes (risking one’s life on the icy brick path) so as to immediately fix the hung-up flag.
There.  Much better.
Man, I swear.  It’s a wonder I accomplish anything during the day.

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One of our carpenters showed up yesterday in a pink Vineyard Vines polo shirt. Young guy, cute smile. Hmmmmm.
Welp, time to go make chicken nuggets, change a poopy diaper and, maybe even, actually find time to wash my hair. Ah, reality.

(photo is courtesy of Vineyard Vines website and NOT stealthy, stalker photography by me)

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