23 December 2010

No Tape, Oh My!

A Tiny Glimpse of Here:

Today is one of my top-ten-of-all-time-people's birthday. He is the only godfather to my only daughter. I would like to call his parents and confirm whether they purposely got pregnant toward the end of march in 1983 - you know, so I can rightfully chew them out. Not for his sake, but for mine. I am not able to adequately celebrate his birthday. Ever. Because it is two days before Christmas. Every year. It never changes. I feel like I'm in the movie Groundhog Day.

I remembered it was his birthday today around 3, as I'm wont to do. We ordered pizza for him and ate and toasted with our spoons full of (store bought by another dear friend) strawberry cake.

And now we have finished that great strawberry cake eating fest, and shall move on into work land.

Work Land?

Yes, 35 hours from now my children will wake up on Christmas morn.

I have approximately 40 presents left to wrap, though I get to set a few aside to wrap the day after Christmas for friends with whom we're not yet celebrating.

Christmas Cards got here late last night. I have not addressed a one, though my dear sweet friend who was here tonight for (pitiful) birthday pizza supper did sponge shut all of the envelopes, relieving me of the guilt of not putting personal messages on there.

I have to make, before 35 hours from now: A chocolate mint cheese cake. A pork tenderloin. Cheesy Risotto. Cranberry Coffee Cake. Cornbread Dressing. Shrimp and Potato Soup. Spicy Shrimp Dip. Potato Skins. Spinach Salad. And I'm probably leaving out something.

This list does include items from four separate meals - Christmas Eve Supper, Christmas Day Breakfast, Lunch and Supper. And I'm very excited to cook - it's my favorite thing, if you didn't know. But there aren't enough hours I tell you.

Off to wrap. Thank the Lord for tape. What did they do before Scotch Tape? Huh? What? How did they wrap things? 'Cause they did. Read Laura Ingalls. But there wasn't any tape.

Lions and Tigers and Bears and No Tape, Oh My.

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