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2003-12-01 - 1:34 p.m.

Trying To Play Catch Up

It’s been a while since I’ve been in the Dog House. Well, this particular dog house, anyway. I’ve been in the other dog house quite a few times in the past several weeks.

Besides lacking inspiration (re: ideas), it’s been a busy few weeks and time has been in short supply. I had thought maybe with the four-day Thanksgiving break I might stroke the muse and maybe come up with an entry or two. Didn’t happen. Ideas? Nada!

I had also hoped to use the holiday break to do nothing except whatever tickled my fancy. That didn’t happen either. Of the four days, Friday was the only gimme! Sainted One and I enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner, then she took over my home, put on her Santa’s hat and assumed her supervisory Christmas decorating duties. It’s not that she thinks I can’t handle the task of putting up all the Ho Ho Ho shit, she just knows if she isn’t behind me with a whip I will ignore all the baubles and beads and won’t put them up.

Thanksgiving is also when we deploy and open fire in the second battle—the first is over leftover turkey and fixins--of The Great Holiday War! Haggling over Christmas gift lists! We both bull up and refuse to want anything for Christmas. I can, for the next three weeks, mumbled and cuss about how “gawdam stubborn” my mother is to anyone who will listen.

Friday dawned gray, windy and very cold. An ideal day to hunker down in my flannel jammy pants and stay by the fireplace with a good book. And that’s exactly what I did. Emma shared the recliner and wool throw with me for most of the day. We got up only to go outside (she went, I didn’t) on business trips, get a refill on hot chocolate and a handful of chocolate covered peanuts or to check the freezer for supper fixings.

The four days are now a memory. They went too quickly.

At work we’re beating off the demons and managing to survive the battle--so far. We’re nearing the end of a rocky first semester. It seems each year the kids are more disillusioned, disenfranchised and angry. The battles are getting more difficult to win.

With one winter holiday behind us, I’m now looking forward to the two-week break at Christmas. I have plans—again—for doing only what tickles my fancy. Maybe that will involve stroking the muse.

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