Timber!

Tonight I decorated our Christmas tree. Normally it is a very festive affair, but tonight while I was laying under the tree, cutting that one last branch so I could get the tree skirt on, the whole decorated beast came down on me. A rush of colored lights, Grand Fur needles and the glitter of delicate ornaments surrounded my head. Luckily a friend, who just happened to be visiting for the first time in weeks, quickly pulled the tree off of me.

My hands became riddled with pitch after we found ourselves trying to get the tree righted once more. Unfortunately the tree stand, besides being to weak for this evergreen giant, had stripped screws and would not hold the tree. So now the tree is leaning up against a wall in the living room and after the third vicious scrub my hands still smell of forest.

Tomorrow's to do list? Buy a tree stand.

A Little Bloat

In the five years I've been making Thanksgiving dinners this year was a triumph, and that is no joke. The turkey was perfect, the obnoxious relatives left early, and then...Horror of horrors... I walked into the kitchen and found the dishes covered the counter top from one end to the other. Ugh. In my dream world the niche I'd create for myself would be self cleaning.

A Little Family History

This evening my folks and I had pie over at my Grandparent's house. We began to talk about the family habit of chopping off fingers. I knew that Dad and Grandpa had taken bits of the top of theirs, but tonight I learned that a Great Great Uncle lost five fingers over the course of his logging career. Three on one hand two on the other. Although I am a little shocked, I have to admit that it made me feel a little better about chopping the tip of my right finger off a couple of years ago... and then julienne-ing my thumb.

Shaky Ground

This all started with a knock on the door. Since I was expecting my mother I whipped open the door and made an enthusiastic greeting. The rather shocked door-to-door salesman looked a little started but didn't loose a beat as he launched right into his prepared speech which culminated with the question, "Can I clean a carpet in your house for free?" He took my vague hesitation, and mumbled swear word, as a yes and asked which room I'd like cleaned. With masterful skill- and my total lack of backbone- he dug right into my politeness and said he'd go get his tools. My reply, "Four o'clock would be better."

Promptly at four the salesman and associate were back, but I had come down with a fever (the honest truth) and mom, who had stopped to pick up chicken soup making, was happily chopping veggies the kitchen. It took me a good five minutes to get rid of them, but I did. Why do I have such a hard time defining borders, saying no, and why can't I ever muster up something rude when I need to? If it wasn't for fundraising children I'd have a "No Solicitation" sign up so fast. Hear that all you girl scouts?! I put myself on shaky ground for your peanut butter delights and caramel coconut cookies!

Pursuit

Lesson one in having a blog about finding a niche: Have the courage to say something and leave it in print long enough to publish it. Although I've been trying, I can't figure out a way to open this blog in a voice that doesn't make me sound like a pompous fool so I give up on witty openings and the hope of a clever turn of phrase.

By and large I expect this blog will be a record of reactions to my surroundings as I settle into life in Western Washington. As an Army wife I feel this could be a dangerous thing to do, but I'll give it a go since I haven't sent out proper roots since March of 2005. After four years and two more moves I'm sending them out again in pursuit of finding that El Dorado of a niche.