Huh?

I woke up this morning thinking it was Monday.  Well, not just thinking --- fully convinced.  As in showering, drying my hair, changing my clothes, getting in the car and heading to therapy.  Only to get a "low tire pressure" warning which made me turn around and come back home.  I sent my therapist a message begging off the session, only seeing the date then on the screen.

That threw me for one of those loops that stays with you all day.  I don't know how many times I rechecked the date to be positive.  I'll do it all again tomorrow.  I put air in the tire;  fingers crossed for that to hold.

It seems like I've read this, but I don't have a clear memory.  Well, except for the story told in "Muppet Treasure Island."  ("How does she bloody DO THAT?")

Marley Was Dead, to Begin With

Sadly, I didn't read this until after high school;  hopefully, you found its magic earlier.

Well, I bit.

I bought a pop-up tree.  I like it a lot.  And here's the thing: ornaments look super-weird on it.  My supposition is that that's why there are those film circles all over it.  It's perfect for how much I did not want to decorate this year.  Taking forever to pull the branches on an artificial tree apart and "just right" is now officially for the birds.  Still, a Nativity Scene still had to go at the tree's foot.  And, bam, I'm finished decking the halls.

You Learn When You Read

Pantone, you know, the Color Authority?*  They don't limit themselves to naming The Color of the Year.  They also name colors for birth months.  Mine, thankfully is

(A former Color of the Year, I'm proud to point out.)  You can check yours by clicking on "Pantone" there.

This cold kept me from posting yesterday's Advent book.  Here it is, along with today's.

I have read The Wind in the Willows, but Chariotta Monte's (?) Jane Eyre has passed me by. 

I've finished the aquatic section of Ashley Ward's book.  I have learned that orcas and other toothed whales go through menopause.  There's a specific type of chimps who may also.  This is so flippin' interesting to me.

On flippers (you can tell I'm a blogging pro by the quality of that segueway), one of a humpback whale's pectoral fins weighs a ton.  A TON.

Communication within and between whale pods is astounding.  They, and a lot of --- if not all --- animals have very clear and distinct vocabularies and accents.  As someone with an accent, this pleases me.

*How is that title bestowed?  Can you just start calling yourself stuff?

Guess What?

Blow, sneeze.  Occasionally things will mix it all up crazy and I'll sneeze and blow.  It's an E-ticket ride around here.  I had several things I wanted to get out and do today, but the Puffs and the throat and the sneezes and the this

For a sizeable part of the day, I was bound in by cables being strung through my front yard and different pieces of equipment blocking my driveway.

So, from the couch, I watched "Train Dreams."  (I recommend it.)  Then I wound up scrolling through online sites for boots.  Shocking, I know.  These aren't really boots, but they're super interesting to me.

Of course the purple roped me in, but the other colors have pretty toe detailing.  I'm gonna let the choices sort of marinate.

Also, I put some stickers on some cardstock.  I had more in mind, but look how perfectly everything lined up.

Not gonna touch it.

So This Happened

I promise this to you all;  if someone doesn't let this bunny back in the house lickety split, there will be immediate e-mails to Santa (we parents have his address) demanding names be put on the Naughty, Naughty, Naughty List.

This was not on my Bingo card for A Twosome I Would See Today.

WHY???

I've read this one.  The glasses have, apparently, set me on a path of props for Advent Books.

You probably know about the updates Amazon sends you: "Your package is 10 stops away."  Now, there's this spunky little animated Amazon van that I find so charming.

In the animation, he bounces up and down, which is very cute.

If your muscles pop like this when you're just walking, you might be Secretariat.

I can relate.

I see a flaw in the planning here.

Oncoming soldiers just ("just") had to walk (or march) to the end of the wall in either direction...*

*This is why I was never asked to be a military strategist.  Or an architect.

Mr. Bradley Would Be So Proud

  'Cause I remembered this without straining:

(You say, "Family, Genus, Species" very cheerfully, really emphasizing "SPEE" in species.)

At any rate, we've visited crustaceans and mollusks, today we say hello to a mammal.

We have to say it really quietly, though.

This makes me laugh.  Out loud.  But again, sssshhhhhh.

Today's Advent book is

Despite the artsy book-and-glasses photo, I've never read Emma.  I haven't read any Austen.  Does that revoke my female card?  Does me asking that question reflect the themes of sexism and class that Austen wrote about?

Just So Much

'Tis Advent Season. I love an Advent calendar.  I got this from a friend who never fails me. 

Inside:

First book:

It does contain Chapter 1.  This book I have read in full.  And I've listened to Kate Bush's song;  several versions.  (Pat Benatar, I see you.) 

Did any of you know this existed?

You know the retching reflex?  Yeah.  That.

See, I grew up going barefoot more often than not (still do, honestly), and I had an unfortunate habit of inadvertently finding and stepping on slugs.  Said steps would send me SCREAMING into the house to, "Wash it off!  Get it off!  Wash it OFF!"  The thought, then, that people would spend money on snail mucin is beyond my ability to comprehend. 

Um, NO.  I realize you're a doctor and all, but your use of the word "attractive" makes me question things about you.

Whew!  I was so worried about the feelings and the fate of animals who secrete their own glide paths.

This, though, make me laugh:

A dark room?  I can promise each and every one of you that snails produce mucin (🤢) during daylight hours.  Quiet?  Do they outfit each snail with tiny Beats headphones?  What kind of appalling job is mucin collection?  But, again, we are reassured that the snails are free from external stress.  What internal agony some must feel, though, as they question what life choices led them (on their trails of slime) to wind up on mesh nets having their life force being collected from them?

"You only love me for my ooze.  I'm going back to my mother."  

"Don't you dare laugh at me.  I will get there eventually."

Follow Yonder Star

 Y'all have to go through this with me.

A lobster Nativity scene.

It's in a lobster trap, which is either ingenious or kind of macabre.  I don't know what has come over the lobster who lies underneath the white garment, which is...  Gift?  Individual serving of rice with hot sauce?  My favorite is the Angel Lobster of The Lord, who seems so excited they've had to cover their mouth with both claws.

If the entire Scene isn't your style (they're sold out anyway), these ornaments might be more your speed.

 I'm troubled that the Wise Lobster on the right seems to have brought ghosts to the Newborn King.  The one on the left appears to have a cat head.  Middle looks to be holding a concrete mummy.  Gold, frankincense and myrrh sound reasonable in comparison.

The Holy Child:

He is on a bed of ... kale?  Seaweed?  Are His claws crossed? Is one claw under the swaddling clothes?  Is He sucking His tiny claw?

Here, the Christ Child is still doing His thing.  The Holy Mother --- who looks good so soon after having a baby --- is delighted and filled with awe.  Joseph --- who had no capitalizable honorific at the time --- is either deep in thankful prayer or, like The Angel, trying to suppress an excited giggle.

Triumph and Tradition

Thursday gave me the opportunity to discover something else that I can't much do with my dead fingers: eat with chopsticks.  The thought of that hadn't crossed my mind.  Those two fingers, though, are "strained" and "uncomfortable."  It's always hard coming up with words to describe the feeling;  the fingers are "dead," but still producing sensations that are beyond my ability to adequately explain.

Traditionally, I begin Christmas decorating the day after Thanksgiving.  Not so this year, as I didn't bring boxes down from upstairs until today.  Remember my year's experience with taking things down stairs.

By the way, the little "non-slip" shoes I was wearing when I fell are still at the foot of the garage stairs.  Maybe I want to let them know that I've overcome their treachery.

Back to decorating.  My horse head is on the front door again.

 Next traditional door decoration is up to you, Bridget.

No Photo Evidence

 Of yesterday's adventure, I mean.  I learned long ago not to ask people to let me take their picture.

Still, it was fine.  Lots of sushi was consumed.  Briton was the most adventurous, downing octopus and eel without flinching.  Even the desserts at Kura are delicious.

We then walked over to H Mart, where you could spend hours.  We did, but not shopping.  We each got some drinks and sat down in the food court and talked.  Well, they talked.  I've also learned not to try and join conversations.  I'll be ignored or impatiently corrected or belittled most of the time.

I will say that I've never felt as old, nor felt that I've ever looked as old as I did yesterday.  My white hair.  The lack of involvement with my children.  My walking many paces behind them.  Thankfully, I found Dr Pepper and sat and sipped quietly.

Trend

Me, I've never been a trend-chaser.  Much.  (Okay, you've got me on 80s twist beads.)

In my waste-of-hours-scrolling-through-sites-for-buying-boots, I am noticing these:

Denim boots.  Cool, fine, I've had a pair for a while.  Mine are like those, but did boot designers stop there?  Course not.  So now out there are:

($2515???)

($774 suddenly looks reasonable.)

There are other hideous, head-scratching, unique designs out there.  One I saw somewhere, but can't find now, inverted the look of the Dolce & Gabbana: the fly and waistband are at the bottom.  You can look them up if you're interested.  

The Thanksgiving plan here is for Son and Myself to go to Atlanta, pick up Daughter, and go to Kura.  The two of them went there last year and had a lot of fun.  (I developed some kind of stomach thing the night before and didn't make it.)

Whatever your plans are, I hope they go smoothly and there is lots of laughter and the food is delicious.  And football.  Lots of football.

Info Drop

I've been remiss in not providing a mailbox update.

It's black and plastic, and my favorite is its stout little flag.  The mailbox is longer and taller than the last one, and it has this tiny flag.  So cute.

Also, my air fryer grilled cheese game is going really well.

Um, Huh?

This is my right index finger, bruised right at the bottom (fist) knuckle.  I have no idea whatsoever what caused it.  This afternoon, I looked down and there it was.  It isn't sore.  It's a source of bewilderment is what it is.