I wasn't writing that is for sure.
I was buried under mounds of work at work.
I wasn't on vacation.
I was decorating for Christmas at home -Yes, really this early (we have company coming)
I wasn't sick, injured or indisposed.
I was sick and tired, had a few minor decorating mishaps and still found no time to be indisposed.
But I am back with a little glimpse into my night:
We decided to put the Christmas trees up. This is a feat in itself. New house to us, old house that wasn't meant for big Christmas trees.
The cats sat in the corner watching and daydreaming about the fact that we all leave the house during the day so that gives them plenty of time for tree climbing.
The hubby concocted a plan to keep them out - if it works I'll let you in on the secret - it might make us a million.
I am a bit of a control freak. About pretty much everything.
So our tradition is for the kids to hand me the ornaments (they have names for each and every one of them - not always appropriate but humorous nonetheless) and I put them on. Normally they wander off half-way through leaving me trying to fill in the gaps.
But this year I was given the pleasure of trimming the tree while they (my two youngest GIRLS) took turns farting. Yep farting.
Toot. Giggle. Rolling on the floor laughing. Swearing from me. Threatening to throttle them. More laughing. More threats. More farts.
I think their grippers are shot.
We had a little Christmas Farty. Bad language, threats and all.
Then they proceeded to pull their pants up to their chests and walk around pretending to be hillbilly's. My next favorite thing. My kids are really threatened by me.
But hey - tis the season for farting, and hillbilly fun.
While I was out I also celebrated this guy's Birthday:
And enjoyed my new favorite vintage thing:
and did a little of this and that:
