Comebacks and Christmas Don’t Mix

Last week, I thought to myself: ‘Hmm, I should get back to blogging.’

I decided to wait until the kids and I had finished baking Christmas goodies. One thing led to another. By the time I’d scraped the sugar goo off the kitchen ceiling and opened the windows for ventilation, which was necessary after the mixer caught fire, I had forgotten all about blogging.

The truth is between the Christmas pageants, Christmas programs, Christmas caroling, Christmas shopping, Christmas baking, Christmas parades, the cards, the trips to Walmart, the decorating with homemade popcorn strings and painted pine cones… and other activities intended to make our Christmas merry and (insert dirty cuss word here) bright, there’s been no time leftover for the nets.

Certainly, if I were one of those women (you know those who own “holiday” aprons, accessorize things, and rarely use the words “HOLY CRAP! IT’S GONNA BLOW!!” in the kitchen) I could manage to do both things effortlessly, perhaps simultaneously… while wearing high heels and a brooch.

Alas, I am not one of those women. I never will be. I’m a domestically-challenged walking disaster, who just confessed to setting off every the smoke detector in the house before turning on the oven. I’ve never accessorized anything in my life. I’m not sure what a brooch might be – and if I’d found any spare time in the past month, I’d have likely spent it drinking rum until I was completely snookered because I’m approximately one cookie away from crumbling beneath the pressure of it all.

Fortunately, there’s no reason to rush the (blogging) comeback. With the exception of the WordPress dashboard, heck, not a lot has changed.

Americans are still alternating between wringing their hands over the economy and expecting the government to do something and wringing their hands over stuff the government has done and screaming: “”Oh MY GOD, what have you done?! What do you mean you don’t know? Just go sit down and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!”

Meanwhile, Tennesseans are feeling just as edgy as ever about Kiffen and the Republican majority.

Nope, nothing new to opine upon there. So, unless a blogging comeback would involve a party to which I’d be entitled to wear something gaudy, sequined and perhaps covered with fluorescent faux fur (I could dig that as a form of rebellion against aprons) there’s no hurry. It can wait until January when the politics get interesting and the “Christmas Hangover” has worn off.

BUT – before I return to baking cookies, buying Diva and Friends matching Christmas earrings, taking cheesy photos and making other efforts to create warm holiday memories and maintain my children’s illusions about this family… at least until Cousin Roy drinks too much beer/nog and passes out in the sausage balls causing Granny Grump to prod him with her cane whilst declaring, “Gawd Almighty… he’s ruint the balls. I say we roll the bastard out in the yard!” – I wanted to take the time to wish you all a Merry Christmas or (insert any winter holiday of your choice here.)

May your nog cup runneth over with something other than nog and may you ne’er be the recepient of a gift manufactured by Homedics.

The Girls

Norman Rockwell in the Hizzouse

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