It's been a bit of stretch, I know, and I took some much needed time off from writing. The craziness of December has morphed into the quietness of January and for that, I'm thankful. So if you want to catch up on our adventures, here ya go...
As most of you know, my mom moved to Las Vegas in early December. This is just a temporary move but it allows her the chance to escape Indiana winter until April. The process of traveling 1,700 miles with a 13 pound cat is an adventure unto itself (and I've encouraged my mom to write a guest entry for the blog - let's see if she takes me up on it) but there's nothing more unwelcoming that finally arriving in Vegas to find your apartment covered in ants. Henceforth known as AntGate, she is still suffering with the little buggers. It might be due to the blast of arctic air we are experiencing, but they want to get inside and stay warm. In her apartment. Yuck.
While she settled in, we hosted Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinner at our house. After the flurry of activity and then recovering from my setbacks doing #26Acts (up to 23!! Almost done!), Christmas seemed to just appeared on our doorstep like a big surprise, as though I had not been working on holiday prep for the last two months. Our Christmas Eve dinner was marred slightly by the fact I burned the lobster tails (my first go at even cooking the little guys - clearly, I'm Midwestern by nature and should not be allowed around seafood). Scotty, after recovering from his panic over the smoke alarm, spent the rest of dinner reenacting Momma's "dance" around the kitchen, waving his arms madly while shouting, "There was smoke in da oven...and den da alarm went 'Beep beep beep!' and den Momma waved her arms like dis and said, 'Stop, alarm!' I was scared!"
Ah, happy holidays, indeed.
I don't remember much about Christmas dinner.
The next big highlight of break was forcing Scotty to do his homework. He was bummed but a good sport. Writing your name is hard work, you know?
New Year's Eve ushered in more seafood. Clearly, I didn't learn my lesson, so this time I sought out a crab big enough to drag a man to his death.
Anyways, the wine aerator was out in full force again, which lead to my brilliant suggestion that my mom and I should climb the mountain behind our house to watch the fireworks on the Strip at midnight. Brian and Uncle Jim, wisely having switched to bourbon earlier in the night, declined our invitation. And so with a chilled bottle of Vevue in my trusty Cubs bag, two Silo cups and a Maglite flashlight, my mom and I jumped the fence and headed for the hills.
And then she promptly rolled down a ravine.
Okay, so was more of a large ditch with sharp boulders, but it was scary nonetheless. One minute she was standing next to me, the next minute, she was literally rolling on her side in the fetal position. Fueled by New Year's excitement, good Scott-go-get-'em-genes, and perhaps a bit too much Cab Franc, Karen, ever the dutiful hiker, hit bottom and popped back up on her feet again. She rubbed some dirt on her injuries and we continued our desert adventure.
This happened exactly fifteen minutes before I had to leave for Junior League, at which point I sped to the meeting sobbing my eyes out, and then had to suffer under unforgiving fluorescent lights for over two hours. Sitting right up in front next to the President, I prayed there was no mascara caked under my bloodshot, puffy eyes. I did not make eye contact with anyone during the entire meeting.
It was not my finest hour.
Thankfully, the nice people at the Apple store were able to restore *most* of her phone, though she is still missing contacts and pictures. She took it like a trooper, however, and one of my resolutions this year is to not touch other people's phones, regardless of the strength of my good intentions. And to always back-up your phone.
I spent the rest of break scrubbing my tile in penance. But see? It looks pretty good, right? Guilt/sorrow/anguish makes you scrub really hard.
How were your holidays? Any fun stories? Did you get a wine aerator, too?