Monday, December 2, 2013


Monday after Thanksgiving and my boys will be here soon. I miss them. Even when I did see them last week, there was so much going on that I didn't really get to be with them much and also, if Jessie's around, Owen wants her and if Boppy's around, Gibson wants him. I am chopped liver to them in that situation and it will be nice to have them to myself.
Yes, the Monday after Thanksgiving and all of the pie is gone, all of the whipped cream is gone. May I just say that I am so glad of that? Now if I can just pull in the reins a bit with the madness of it all and try to be a bit more sober and sane and...
It's just been ridiculous and I am tired of it and no amount of sleep solves the problems, erases the aching, eases the anxiety. We had a beautiful drive down to Spring Creek last night and we ate like beasts, as if we hadn't eaten in weeks instead of eating look fools for days. But oh, it was so good. The shrimp, the soft-shelled crab, the crab cake, the mullet. That sweet, sweet mullet.
All of it fried, of course.
The waitress asked if we'd like any cocktail sauce or tarter sauce or hot sauce and I said, "Yes, please, all of that."
I need detoxing and I need rehabbing and I need exercising and I need serious counseling. I need to work in the yard, the garden. I need to do some Christmas shopping. I need to work on the name blanket. I need to throw away the Brie of which there is still enough to put on a hundred crackers and serve to a hundred cheese-hungry adults. I will not discuss the goat cheese log with cranberries and cinnamon.
No. I will not.
(Does anyone want a goat cheese log with cranberries and cinnamon? It is very good.)

It is Monday. Thanksgiving has passed and life goes on, even as we hurtle towards Christmas. Should I light a Saint Candle every day until we get there? Ask for wisdom, for guidance, for restraint for humor and for strength? Line the mantle in the library with them, burn the house down with my pleas?

Well, maybe one a week. I would hate to burn my house down.

The boys are coming. Time to drink some smoothie. No bacon, no pancakes, no eggs, no biscuits for me. Oh Lord. I just remembered- there is still angel biscuit dough in the refrigerator.

How are you? Did you survive? Do we go on? Is there a choice?

The train rattles past. The days groan as they pass. The sky is that unhealthy shade of gray.

The boys are here.



  1. You and I hung out in my dream last night. You were showing me the huge tomatoes you had grown. It was lovely. I felt very safe and loved.

    I was just telling Elizabeth that she is normal for dreaming about bloggy people - see, this is proof.

  2. I really dislike this time of year. Just too too much going on. between work responsibilities and holidays and other events, I will have no time to relax or time to myself til after New Years. and I don't even do christmas.

  3. Not sure how to put this, but this whole thing about indulgence is the reason I quite like that our Canadian Thanksgiving is just that much earlier in the season. Not only is the weather *mostly* better, but there's some much needed recuperating time before the onslaught of Christmas.
    Not that I'd over indulge or anything.

  4. Today, I would like a choice to NOT go on. I'm so burnt out. A break wasn't enough. "Line the mantle in the library with them, burn the house down with my pleas?" Oh, how I understand. My favorite line in this entry.

  5. I'll take that cheese. I love goat cheese!

  6. I survived. I need more exercise, less food and way less alcohol. What is it about the holidays that causes the excess? I feel exhausted by Thanksgiving and don't even want to consider Christmas. Darn stupid holidays.
    I'll light some candles too and let's not burn down our houses.
    Enjoy those boys :)

  7. We did well and didn't overeat. Thank goodness for that. We cleaned up everything within an hour--stored the leftovers, washed dishes, and reset the dining room table. Next week, we will get ready for Christmas. Seems like a lot when I barely have gotten over summer--seemed like August was just a couple of weeks ago. Time is going way too fast for me.

  8. Hello My Dear Cousin, Its so nice to drop in and read your blog from time to time. Shelby and I spent Thanksgiving at my house in the little cozy town of Wilton, NH. I was just finishing up the potato blend (I mix parsnips and sweet potato and yukon gold all together to make a pretty colored yummy blend and I roasted everything so it was so caramelized and yummy...)
    I got to have my baby all to myself, hearing her play and sing, looking thru my mothers china and deciding which pieces to bring down, sipping a little wine and baking pie...very relaxing... the best part, watching her sleep, and checking on her; even at age 21 all flopped out on my couch in her fashion leggings, boots and scarves. We got to celebrate her BFA award and talk about all the loved-ones who couldn't be there.

    Peace Mary

  9. Hooray for your boys!
    Hooray for the absence of pie!
    Double hooray for the absence of whipped cream!

    Shall we have a cranberry goat cheese log exchange?

  10. Jill- That's so true. I dream about visiting Elizabeth and her children almost weekly.

    Ellen Abbott- And how do you get away with not doing Christmas? I must know.

    Bob-Or me either!!!

    SJ- I adore you for picking out a favorite line. Among other reasons.

    Ms. Fleur- Well, come and get it.

    Mel- I DID enjoy those boys. They make me so happy.

    Syd- Do not talk to me about resetting the dining room table. I just took the sewing machine off of mine. Yes, time is speeding by so quickly. Is it because of our age?

    TheMimmid- Hello, Cousin! I am glad you had such a sweet Thanksgiving! Thank you for stopping by. Please- any time!

    Denise- Yes. Please. PLEASE!!!!!

  11. Cranberry goat cheese sounds kind of scrummy, actually, but I don't suppose you could mail it to England. :)

    I feel like I need detoxing, too. I want to eat just salads for about a week.

  12. Steve Reed- I swear, I'm about to throw out everything in the refrigerator.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.