One Light Goes Out, They All Go Out!
This weekend we have so much to accomplish! We have to hang our lights, which is going to be a feat itself with the amount we usually put up. On top of what we already have, we’ve been talking about buying more boxes. Then there’s the issue of measuring to make sure things are balanced so I don’t feel fidgety and uncomfortable every time I catch a glimpse of an extra three feet of lights hanging off the edge of something. I can tolerate there being an extra amount of lighting but it really has to be balanced or it’ll drive me nuts. Then, we have to order our snowman…
How ‘Bout We Sing Some Holiday Songs?
I love the holiday season. I start listening to Christmas music weeks before Thanksgiving. The first snowfall (when it’s not in September) brings with it the excitement over picking and chopping our tree, hanging lights, wrapping presents, baking cookies, and getting snockered on eggnog. I have so many heartwarming Christmas memories but, by far, my favorite memories revolve around my sister. Even when we didn’t share a room, we would sleep in the same bed for days before Christmas, counting down in eves (Tonight is Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve!) and whispering about the presents we knew the other was getting. Finally, on Christmas Eve, we would…
All That Meat and No Potatoes
Two days before Thanksgiving we usually start all the prep work for The Big Day. We wash and chop every vegetable and prepare everything that can be prepared because, if we did everything on Thanksgiving day, we’d be eating in December. Unfortunately, this year our water decided to drop to a dribble and we were unable to begin as usual. Despite the setback, we’ll be celebrating this evening. In addition to all our normal dishes, this year we decided to attempt our own brine. I both hope it’s fantastic and hope it’s not that impressive since I failed to write down what exactly went into the pot and how much…
Where My Heart Can Roam
This is one of my favorite photographs from our nomadic summer. I’d like to have a print made to hang around these barren walls but, as I said before, I don’t usually keep track of the original full-size images I finally choose among them all, which I find very annoying about myself at this moment. It’s our favored campsite on the BLM land near Castle Gardens, outside of Ten Sleep, Wyoming. There was something about the smell of the sagebrush, the open range, the red hills in the distance, and the solitary feeling that appealed to us. If I could build a home anywhere on Earth, it would be right…
And May You Need Never to Banish Misfortune
Things are troublesome here at the moment. When I wrote the mini bio for this blog I said, “the hovel I call home,” but hovel was written about 60% in jest. A hovel is defined, according to dictionary.com, as “a small, very humble dwelling house; a wretched hut.” Originally, I was hinting at the humble dwelling portion of that definition, now we’re approaching the wretched hut portion. Our bedroom floor has collapsed. I can’t believe I have had to write that sentence. Now, to avoid giving the wrong impression, our bedroom floor isn’t caved in with all the contents in a heap down a giant crack through the room. There…
