And so this is Christmas
What have you done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun
I've had that running in my head for most of the day.
Well, that and "Walking in a Winter Wonderland". KOIT radio has been playing non-stop Christmas music since Thanksgiving, which I've actually enjoyed quite a bit. The first time "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" came on, I turned it up and got my kids (even cranky Neo) to sing along. OK, that was fun.
I only listen to KOIT (Light Rock, Less Talk -- when did I become aged?) in the car. So far I have heard "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" seventeen times. More than seventeen times, actually, because I lost count about a week ago. Seventeen. And not all versions are good. Some are surrrrprisinnngly slow and goopy. Come on folks, we're walking. Keep up the beat, you know. 1, 2, 3, 4 and 1, 2, 3, 4.
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young
I wish... I wish it weren't Christmas somehow. There's a lot of responsibility for other people's happiness for a mother during Christmas. Generally, we're all just bored now that school's out. Sitting inside watching the rain fall and trying to keep our feet warm. (Mild moment of general annoyance: How the FUCK did I end up with a house where my feet are always cold?!!!? I promised myself when I was a kid that I'd never have a cold kitchen. And look. I have one. Yay me.)
Bored is good though. Last year at this time we were at the height of our terrible, horrible, very bad struggle with Saul, against Saul, and for a shred of sanity. The day we brought home the Christmas tree last year was the day I called the cops on my own child as he pulled my hair and bit me. Two days later he attacked my husband. Wow. That was a long time ago.
A very merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear.
I'm not that interested in setting up the tree this year. I'll just have to take it down again. I'm getting the kids all hyped up for the *true* enjoyment of buying a fake tree on sale for next year's Christmas. Just sort of can't be bothered with the watering and the dragging of it through the garage and all that vacuuming up of needles. But the smell is nice. (And the crappy not-very-happy part of me says, "So? Light a candle, why don't cha?" Shut up, crappy part of me.)
And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
Neo's doing OK with homeschooling -- we're sticking with it for the rest of this year. We'll see what happens when she starts High School next year. We may dual enroll her in the Community College to bump up her English and History education. We don't know. But it's been cool having her around. We've started volunteering at the local animal shelter twice a week. (She volunteers. I have to shadow her because she's 13. No one believes it. They all think she's 17 or older. So could I stop shadowing her now? Puh-weese?)
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight.
In mid-November an animal control officer found three guinea pigs in a garbage bag down by the waterfront. I'm the "guinea pig lady" at the shelter -- I bring them hay and lettuce from time to time. They asked me to look at them and I said, "Well, this one's pregnant, which means the other two probably are too." The pregnant piggie ended up having four pups, and I ended up fostering the other two adult females. One was pregnant (two boys 11/24) and one wasn't. I now have the two baby boys (Degas and Rodin) in a cage by my feet and the two adult females (Gopher and Red) in a cage over my shoulder.
They will all go on Petfinder after Christmas -- I hope there are some homes for them somewhere, but with this economy I'm not convinced. The shelter's a no-kill, so I'm not worried about that, but it may be a long stay at the inn. Dear Butcher is Less Than Amused. My three guinea pigs are falling over themselves to demonstrate how very adorable they are -- standing up at the cage bars when I walk past -- I think they're jealous.
A very Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
My dog has stopped eating. I think he doesn't like the new all-natural senior food I got him. But he's not eating anything. His hips are showing. (Jesus Hobbes, don't be sick.) Good news is that he's decided he'll eat raw meat. Since Dear Butcher is, um, a butcher, we've been investigating a raw food diet for a while for the dog -- it would be more work but MUCH cheaper for us. Except that he won't eat meat that isn't sauteed with just a hint of garlic in a light white wine sauce. Or wouldn't until I got this new expensive (forty freaking pounds of it!) dog food. So now he may be going to a raw food diet after all. Good lord, not only am I aged, listening to Lite Rock stations, but my transformation to a hippie is getting ever more complete. Gotta go find the scratchy wool socks and the Birkenstocks.
The cat however, will NOT eat anything except kibble. I gave him wet cat food, the really stinky stuff, one time to see if I could start transitioning him to a raw food plan. He licked the scummy sauce off the food, turned around, made eye contact, and Meeeee-OWed at me for real food. The crunchy stuff. He won't shut up once he gets going. Bagheera (all black) likes to sit outside the sliding glass door in the evening and meee-OW to come in. All you can see is the small pink rectangle of his mouth opening and closing, appearing and disappearing, about eight inches off the ground. No sound, no eyes, just a pink mouth. HALP. HALP.
Neo and I saw Twilight, The Movie a few weeks back. Oh my good lord. What a disaster.
I'm not sure about Neo, but I'm pretty sure I hurt that tendon in my neck by laughing too hard. Ka-POING! I busted it very early on in the film -- must have been that ridiculous fan *with the mylar ribbons attached to demonstrate that it was ON*. Woosha Woosha Woosha. Oy.
So generally, things are good here in Suisan land. Not great. Not particularly jolly and grinny Santa bellies stuffed with holiday cheer, but not high drama disaster either.
Just sort of. You know. Here.
Waiting for something worth blogging about to happen. I think.
