Up here in northeastern Minnesota, this is the month when winter truly sets in. We have to spend extra hours of a day moving snow with plows and shoveling by hand. Even though this year we haven't yet had a shoveling/plowing type snowfall (very unusual), cold, really cold weather has arrived and we can no longer dash out to do jobs around the homestead or make sojourns anywhere without taking the added time to stuff our bodies into layers of down and polar fleece, a warm hat, gloves and even insulated boots so our tootsies don't freeze.
Vehicles require extra attention. They are not eager to start and run without first being plugged in. (Even with that little boost to my vehicle, I had to make a quick switch when I tried to venture out for a 10 o'clock appointment this morning. I was forced to take the big truck with no running boards. Do you know how hard that honkin' big thing is for me to get in and out of with my short, stumpy legs? It's not pretty to watch either. Picture the Pillsbury Dough Boy in a light blue, super-puffy, down-filled jacket.)
It's also the month for all the extra special things to be attended to relating to the holidays. (But you already knew that, didn't you?) In recent years I've found myself cutting back on one thing and then another thinking that would give me time to truly enjoy the month between Thanksgiving and New Year's. Either somebody is conspiring against me or I'm just not doing it right, because I haven't reached that much desired, blissful state of organization, preparedness and feeling that I have time to sit down, put my feet up and stare at the Christmas tree lights with a wee cup of cheer by my side.
When, oh when, has the month of December ever seemed long? By gum, I can remember when it did! I think I was about seven years old, I was standing with my aunt and cousin in my grandma's kitchen and I asked Aunt Sally how long it was until Christmas. My aunt replied, "Only one month now." And I recall thinking, "Only!" A month was an EON long. My, my, how times have changed.
I made a post over on my quilting blog recently including pictures of my messy, messy quilt studio (no time to spend in there quilting let alone cleaning it!) and a shot of the calendar on the wall . . . still showing the month of November. (Anybody wanna bet the page for December will never see the light of day this year?)
Well, I'm not really complaining. Just using this blog entry to vent a little frustration over the fact that time goes by too darn quickly especially this time of the year. However, I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions as to how I structure my days, what I choose to do or not to do. Problem is my desires are still bigger than my abilities when it comes to fitting everything into the month of December.
What I wanna do right now is get into my jammies, grab my very interesting reading book, pour myself a glug of Bailey's Irish Cream over ice, open the door of the wood stove and fit the protective screen in place to have an open fire, turn off all the lights except the tree lights and my reading light, and relax for a couple hours of leisurely reading.
What's wrong with the above scenario? 1) I would fall asleep within ten minutes of sitting down (and waste all that Bailey's), 2) there will be a 5 AM alarm in our house in the morning, so 3) I need to get organized tonight in preparation of being gone all day tomorrow. Sigh.
Oh well, January will be a long, slow month, right? Right? (Anybody still out there . . . . . . . . ?)
You can call me "Your Highney-ness"
1 hour ago