Feisty Repartee

At this rate...

I should be well and sick of Christmas, at least by Thanksgiving.

It is a beautiful day. As the sun broke this morning it was sixty-five degrees. I donned a t-shirt and denim skirt with my sandals as I took Sweet One to school (Wee had gotten up early enough to catch the bus).

Second stop was Home Depot for a pre-lit Christmas tree. I decided to invest in a nice nine and one-half foot one this year rather than a "fresh" one that I would have to wrap in four packages of lights.

While not that heavy, the box itself is a good eight feet long. I am praying like hell it comes in two or three sections and that box is not filled with 2,352 separate fronds.

While I was checking out I spotted a holiday edition (Holiday Menus) of my favorite cooking magazine (Cuisine at Home). After flipping through it, I realized I had to have it, too. The words "White Russian Eggnog," "Caramel Pecan Tart," "Triple Gingerbread Cake," and "Feta Pepper Dip" just screamed out at me.

Now that I am home, the huge box with the tree in it remains in my car. It must come out before I pick the girls up from school. As I am a good eighty-percent done with my Christmas shopping, I am toying with the idea of wrapping what I have and doing a little inventory checklist to make sure I am on track.

We are headed to Baton Rouge for a LSU game this weekend. While I have the girls on campus, I plan to take some shots and, hopefully, one of them will make our Christmas card photo for this year. Anal me prefers to send our cards the week following Thanksgiving so I do not have to worry about them anymore.

White Russian Eggnog, anyone?

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