I know, long time no post. I had delusions of doing NaBloPoMo (GOD I HATE THAT PHRASE, it sounds like coughing up mashed potatoes) but Hah.
Although I have been posting once a day, mostly twice. Not here. Here. Go there, seriously, and not to stroke my ego but because dayum these people are interesting and funny --and that's just what makes it onto the site. The behind-the-scenes trash talking is incredibly hilarious and quite dirty and I intend to majorly up my caffiene intake after I have the kid so I can keep up.
We're winding up a truly lovely Thanksgiving weekend around here. Paul got home early Wednesday, which freed me up to both work and to end work at a reasonable hour so we could enjoy some time together. Thanksgiving Day, we went over to my parents' house for our traditional meal. As much as I love to cook and experiment day-to-day and eschew the canned, the boxed, the processed, I lean traditionalist to the point of reactionary on Thanksgiving. Must be the same stuff every year, no variations, no being fancy, no exceptions.
One year I had done a tasting for our local artisanal bakery and had a ton of leftover bread. Beautiful stuff, made skillfully with all the best ingredients. I turned some of those leftovers into stuffing, using copious amounts of butter, celery, onions, and the last of the fresh herbs from my garden. Should have been delicious, and probably, objectively, was. But you know what? Just wrong --because I have been raised to expect the boxed Croquettes brand stuffing my mom has made for decades and that is what I want.
I think my palate would totally be a Romney voter.
Friday I worked, we all lazed, took loooonnnngg naps and then went to Target. Yes, because we are frickin' nutjobs. It actually was fine and not too crowded, and we scored a $25 DVD player for his (impossible to buy for) parents along with a movie they might like, and a $64 vacuum cleaner for ourselves. Why a vacuum cleaner? Because we have made it through seven years married, five years of homeownership, and three pets including the only beaglelike dog on on the planet that sheds (seriously, everything I read about beagles proclaims they never! ever! shed! BULLSHIT. Ours sheds if you walk by her too fast) without one. Paul, as Chairman of Floor Maintenance around here, proclaims it dreamy.
Yesterday, we fortified ourselves with coffee and doughnuts and went to the newly-remodeled Detroit Institute of Arts. It's awesome, although I would personally say no less confusing than it was before the remodel. There's been lots of talk about dumbing it down with placards and interactive activities and such but I actually think it gives you new insight into the art and a pathway in if you want to learn more. As coarse as our current culture is, I think anything that can draw Joe Average in to appreciate the beauty and meaning inherent in great art is all to the good. The art snobs will always be served, but for people who hunger for more than reality TV and celebrity news but shy away from anything that feels like school, this reimagining of the museum gives them a chance to connect with ideas and visuals that can make us more fully understand what it means to be human. I've studied art history and find it fascinating, and I didn't feel talked down to.
And, we very nearly have finished clearing out the erstwhile office, converting the kitchen nook into an office space, and converting the office to Maggie's Big Girl Room. I am not, ummm, noted for my organizational skills (stop laughing, Brett and Nikki, geez, you miss one midterm and it follows you around for-EV-er) but have created a really awesome system. Our dining room table, where mail and crap tends to land, has not been this clear for this long, well, ever. I love it. Although my parents and husband have kinda hinted that they suspect I have been taken over by a pod person what with the "File that there" and the "This goes in this clearly labeled box here." I'll post pics, especially since I am curious what the Internets will think of our crazy-ass color scheme.
Soon, Maggie will move out of her baby room and into a new space with a big bed and her own shelves, and we will be rocking a new baby to sleep in that carefully-decorated green-and-yellow room with the white crib and cleverly repurposed Salvation Army dresser. I'm surprisingly sad about moving her out of her room.
But that's another post for another day. Hope all of you had a lovely, restful Thanksgiving and are ready for the holiday season.