HOW TO FLUMMOX ME

On those occasions when I go a bit longer than normal without posting I will inevitably participate in the following conversation:

T, home from work, ?no post at bp??

Me, interrupted from my reverie, ?you talked to me four times today, what could you possibly think I would write about that you don?t already know??

We had this interchange Wednesday, Thursday and Friday evenings, verbatim.

YT((NH)) or, WHY T LOVES NEW HAMPSHIRE

It is a matter of record that the reason we live in this part of the world is due to the fact that my spouse is partial to places that a) have very few other human beings, b) a preponderance of trees, and c) provide a diverse array of pleasures for the outdoor sports enthusiast. However, it is no small exaggeration to say that December 2007 has pushed him to his very last nerve. I would not be at all surprised to learn that he falls into bed each night dreaming of a simple, one room hut on a sunny beach in New Zealand (I know I do!).

To wit (a sampling, as it were):

~ T has gotten up early?plowed the road and is now dressed for work. His VW Jetta is at the bottom of our drive due to snow and ice so I drive him down to the car. He opens the door to his vehicle and then curses. He?s forgotten his cell phone. No worries. I?ll zip up and get it. I start up the drive, but because I didn?t get sufficient acceleration, I slide off into one of the 4 foot snow drifts that line the drive. T comes over. I get out. He gets behind the wheel. His efforts cause the car to get more deeply imbedded into the drift. (I am outside the car, which has its windows tightly rolled up and still, the primal scream is quite chilling). He walks up to the house, changes into outdoor work clothes, gets the tractor and comes back down to the car. He ties a rope to the front of the car and begins pulling the car out, but the rope snaps. He climbs down from the tractor in a rage and slips on the ice and lands on his back. (It is all I can do to stifle the explosion of laughter welling up in me. Wrong, wrong! but, god, when people fall it is funny.) He tractors back up to the house, comes back down with two shovels. We dig out around the wheels, tie the rope back on, this time success! I drive back up to the house, go inside and come out and hand him his cell phone with a flourish. He goes in, changes back to office work clothes and walks down to his car at the bottom of the drive.

~ T calls me from the bottom of the hill. He?s home from work and wants a ride up. It is dark and snowing heavily. The wipers on my car beat like a frantic metronome. I drive down and tell him to drive us back up?that way I won?t feel guilty if we slide into an embankment. T backs up to get enough road for a big acceleration, but misjudges the lane and backs us right off into the side ditch. Oh, how we laughed! Um, not. Again with the Tractor. Rope. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

~ T calls me from the road, I know he?ll be home in a few minutes but I also know it?s probably not the best idea to drive down to pick him up given the struggles we have had so I pull on ski pants and a hoodie and bring the dogs out. We?ll walk down the drive and be waiting for him when he arrives and we?ll all walk up together. Oh how Ozzie! How Harriet! Except T is on a different wavelength and is planning to drive UP the drive which, when it is filled with three excited dogs all prancing about to see him cause him to slow, slip backwards and yeah, well--- sort of like me cutting my hair and him giving me a beautiful comb, non?

SCMEXPECTATIONS

So, I?m sure many of you believe my husband to be a pretty great guy. And he is. Except at holidays. I am sorry to shatter any illusions but my husband is a BEAST at the holidays. (Am I overstating things, darling? Are you glad I?m posting now, snookums?)

It?s hard to know wherefore and from whence comes the beastliness?possible theories include pathological self-centeredness, too much coal as an impressionable young child, reared by flesh-eating monsters, long years in the Charles Dickens Home for Les Enfants Terribles, an intractable loathing for capitalism and commercialism?honestly, the list just goes on and on.

All of which is to say, my favorite line from the past week was the following, which I was meant to overhear as T was talking to his brother on the phone,

?It?s not really Christmas until I make my wife cry.?

I?m not kidding when I say this makes me laugh. It really does. So glad someone in this house has a sense of humor, cause god knows, it isn?t me.

MY DAEMONS

Also? I read The Golden Compass on Monday and god, did that disturb me. Profoundly. The same way Pan?s Labyrinth cut me open. It really, really disturbed me and made me all fragile.

Thank god for MY daemons, my little creatures that are always by my side, room to room, they even like to ride in the car with me, jump up on the couch with me?basically, cuddle at will.

I have no new pictures of them, alas, so if you have just dragged yourself through this endless post for the sole purpose of getting a glimpse of the brombies I do apologize?I would direct you to this post of last December as those photographs are as good as it gets.

And, for those of you waiting on my New Year?s cards?they ARE going out?on January 2nd. Promise.

FRIENDS. CHRISTMAS. RULE

We spent Christmas day with our ?family? friends, which was just too awesome for words. They had cooked up an amazing spread with tenderloin, gorgeous veggies, salad, latkes, and prawns, it was all so beautiful. (My mate had made profiteroles from scratch and two sauces; caramel and chocolate for the ice cream so he was redeemed from his beastliness). And, their darling daughter had written this poem (below) for me. So, yes, life is good.

Daisy?s Puppy Days

The little ball of golden fur,
The tiny little paws, her
Dancing little eyes,
She?s an angel in disguise.

Her fur is like the morning sun,
Gold and bursting with light,
Her eyes sparkle and shine whether
It's day or night.

She runs and plays throughout the day,
She comes when she?s called
And never runs away.

She always does as she is told
And as I think of it her heart
Is made of gold.

Many people to this day have
Called her mommy?s little girl,
For often she follows Elizabeth
Wherever she may go.

Once she was a puppy, waddling
Around, wagging her tiny tail, and
Nipping with her teeth, she grew up
Too fast for the eye to see yet she has
Learned so much that she amazes you and me!
~ NRD, Christmas 2007

In case I didn't make it clear-- I am one lucky, lucky woman and I say yes to life-- to all of it. December 2007 has been one HELL of a month-- it gave me one of the very best days of my life and also a bunch of annoying ones-- so be it.

I wish for you a feeling of ease. Of genuine ease. Where there is no pressure, no guilt, no pain, no sorrow, no anxiety, no stress. Just ease and comfort and joy. Great, great buckets of joy.

Blessed be.

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