I took a nap today in my warm, snuggly penguin flannel sheets.
They don't match anything that we own but they were on sale at Kohl's at the end of the season last year for 14.99. And as you know, I'm a sucker for a deal.
They are soft and warm and I like them.
After I was finished napping, I ventured out into the disaster area that we call the "kitchen. "
I was wearing shorts and a tank top. The sun was shining and the windows had all been flung open. There was a pleasant cross breeze.
I realized, however, that I was freezing. Yes, it was pretty darn cold in this house. I checked the thermostat and it informed me that it was 73 degrees.
I realized with acute dismay I have officially turned into "that person" who moves to Florida and is cold once the temperature drops below 80 degrees. I fiercely disliked that person before, and now that person is me. Bollocks.
I turned right around and went to put on long pants and a cardigan. I put my hair up and set my little JCrew tortoiseshell headband on the top my head.
I wandered back out to the kitchen.
"Why are you all dressed up," Wesley asked.
I was wearing my workout capris, tank top and a cardigan. The only adornment I could boast was the headband that is probably not age appropriate.
Although headbands probably should be reserved for the sixteen and under crowd, I believe I should at least get an "A" for effort for an attempt of fun and youthfulness on my part.
I will continue to wear them because I believe they make me appear whimsical. The whimsy effect is wishful thinking, as I am not whimsical by any means. Any whimsy displayed by me is forced; it is not at all in my personality.
I don't have any fanciful stories to tell or dreamy watercolors to paint. My imagination pretty much sucks, which is why I will never write fiction.
I was always envious of a friend of mine in Iowa who was an artist. She could get up and proclaim "I shall paint a mural today!" And she would do it.
She decorated with fancifulness and gaiety, without fail, for every single season and holiday. She was always atrociously bummed out between Easter and October because the only holiday was the Fourth of July.
Apparently for Those Who Decorate, the Fourth of July just isn't too fun to decorate for.
"We don't do primary colors," she stated, matter of factly, as she went through a bag of her girls' clothing that they had outgrown. She was neatly placing the outfits that I might be interested in into a tidy little pile for me to take home.
The outfits that were red, blue and yellow were markedly unworn.
"Gifts," she said with a sniff and a wrinkle of her nose. She examined a red jacket with apple buttons. She visibly cringed as she stuffed it into the garbage bag that she was sending home with us.
She celebrated holidays with a flair and panache that her children will remember fondly when they reminisce about their childhoods. Undoubtedly, they will declare, "Our childhoods were delightful! We never, ever missed a parade or a chance to celebrate!"
Because I had nothing to set out for Halloween, I bought a Halloween wreath from the crafters at church. It was $5.00 ~ a steal ~ and I felt a twinge of guilt as I stuffed my $5.00 check into the little box set out for payments. It would easily fetch $20-30 at a craft fair.
It is made out of recycled orange trash bags. Someone lovingly knit together little pumpkins out of orange bags. There are fake spiders on it.
I grudgingly put up the Christmas tree every year. I am pretty sure Christmas decorating is not fun for my kids as I am terribly fussy about how the tree looks. The lights have to be "just so" and the ornaments symmetrical, or it bothers me.
I have just begun allowing them to put the ornaments on themselves; I rearrange them after they go to bed.
Last year, Chris insisted upon buying a real tree. This was highly encouraged by our "artistic friend," who considers fake trees, along with primary colors, an anathema.
I cursed her as he brought the snow covered tree in the house. The snow melted all over the hardwood floors and created a mess for me to clean up.
I continued to curse her in the days to come as I got down on all fours and watered the damn thing. Even though I watered it, it still shed. When we moved seven months later, I vacuumed up pine needles that had hid themselves under the furniture and in obscure corners.
This Christmas, we are apparently doing lawn ornaments ~ something I strongly forbade in Iowa. Chris announced this on a 95 degree day in early September.
"We are putting up lawn ornaments," he said. The expression on my face must have been clear that this required further explanation.
"____ is giving us reindeer for the front yard," he continued, "and we are going to put them up." Apparently there are, like, six reindeer. They each have a spotlight.
We are also obtaining a manger from this individual and enough twinkly lights to pull a Clark Griswold on our Florida neighborhood.
"We are putting everything out," Chris firmly informed me. I believe his pointer finger was even up to my nose to punctuate the seriousness of this decorating business. "Everything."
The reindeer were delivered last Monday and they require assembly. They are white and have googly eyes.
____ also brought over a ghost on a stake to add to our meager Halloween decor. The ghost is cute. I staked him in the front yard next to the magnolia tree. The endearing appearance of this ghost makes me a little more hopeful for our reindeer.
I will go along with this because I'm trying to add a little more whimsy into my life, beginning with my tortoiseshell headband.
The attempt will continue with inherited reindeer, lights and decorations done on the cheap from the crafters at church.
Perhaps this is my year to add a little more magic and fun to the holidays for the kids.
Beginning with my $5.00 wreath and my little wooden ghost.
I have to start somewhere.
The next thing you know, I will be painting murals and decorating with marionettes.