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silver bells

2005-12-19 - 1:56 p.m.

The holidays are always such fun, because in addition to snow and presents and trees and eight crazy nights, one invariably, regardless of religion, has eight crazy days at work, trying to cram a month's worth of work into a few short days--days constantly interrupted with official office holiday cheer. To wit: the only reason I shan't stay late tonight is because the bus ceases running and I would be stranded at the End of the Line on the metro.

Just a quick weekend update. I made fudge and used way too much marshmallow fluff. Although still palatable, I do not reccomend this method to anyone. Next time I shall obtain more precise measurements. My fudge is currently soft and somewhat squishy. It is a fudge that is content to yield to the moral majority which is your mouth. It may prefer its own rectangular shape, but it does not overly mind being squished into abandon and shoved down your gullet.

The neighbors across the way are engaged in their yearly battle of house decorations. There can be only one! Lately, they seem to be alternating nights, which is thoughtful, as the neighborhood is less blinded when only one is on. Still, as we inch down these final days to the birthday of Baby Jesus, I imagine each will pull out all stops. I'm waiting for a light-up reindeer doing a kegstand. That would win in my book. I would reward the winner with squishy fudge.

We purchased a largish tree yesterday and faithfull decorated it, complete with swearing and a quick rush out to the store to buy more lights. Regardless, it looks most festive and makes the house smell delightful. The cat was fascinated at first, but seems to have adjusted pretty quickly. She does not try to climb the tree, which is excellent--the needles are sharp enough to poke her eye out. Regardless, we are slowly building up our store of ornaments. I got a huge bucket of "filler" ornaments for $10 at Target a couple years ago, but I like all sorts of different ornaments on a tree, each with its own special memory. Screw the uniform look--that's for Martha Stewart-wannabes. Damn wannabes.

OK, back to the grind--and I'm not talking about a fresh pot of coffee.(Ba-dum-dum!)

 

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