Non-staged, messy reality. Although I did move the muddy boots from this afternoon’s walk out of the picture.

Alpha kitty on the couch. Doodle on the floor (odd) next to her dad (everyone say HI, Paul!). Beta kitty off-camera to the right. Children elsewhere, playing a new video game. Snow man ignoring me since I’ve cruelly placed him so close to the fire. Dirty wool sock in the foreground. Christmas detritus everywhere. Curtains? Yeah. New. After 10 years of naked windows, I’ve been on a tear.

This downtime stuff? It’s kind of nice.

I’m off to eat a slice of pizza and find a bottle of wine that pairs perfectly with contentment.

I am a little overly-pleased with my Christmas Eve badassery.

But now I have a problem. I resent my $12 IKEA curtains.

When we first moved into this house 10 years ago, our kitchen was a minor disaster. Formica and particleboard cabinets. Dull off-white paint on the walls. A flickering fluorescent light fixture. Stairs covered in drab gray paint. No countertops to speak of. A refrigerator in the middle of the frickin’ room. Oh, and the dirt. 70 years worth of dirt, everywhere.

We soon learned I was pregnant, resulting in the famous declaration “No pregnant wife – and no child – of mine will be eating in this kitchen.”

And thus we began the 5 year 7 year 10 year renovation.

I’d be hard pressed to say if the low point was the month we went without a working stove and microwave, or the Christmas Eve when Saint Paul tried so worked himself into full body cabinet-hanging, floor-sanding exhaustion… followed by a bad case of the flu… followed by me hauling 125 lbs of This End Up tables down flights of stairs to set up for the holiday dinner while simultaneously cooking for 18 people and taking care of two toddlers.

Anyway. Click to continue »

Texting while my husband was running errands earlier:

teh crazeez is here.

One curtain done. Badass.

No, ME. Just got your last present.

But I’m so done with presents, I’m MAKING

CURTAINS on Xmas eve. Total badass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. Parts of Christmas dinner are burbling on the stove. And I’m waiting for my husband to come to help me hang my badass curtains.

Merry Christmas, dear friends. Love to you all.