Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Friday, January 02, 2009


I've been writing "2009" since about October, which I guess my subconscious trying to hurry up and get done with 2008 already. But now my subconscious and I can revel in the gloriousness that is the new year. Hooray.

The Texan and I plan to get it off to a bangin' start: taking down our holiday lights and decorations. Including the tree, sigh. Had to happen, though: no one wants a repeat of the year that I waited until Valentine's Day to haul the tree out and surreptitiously stow it in the dumpster of the building next door, then having to sweep up the trail of pine needles which lead straight back to my front door. (I don't think I'd be a very good criminal.)

I already got started on that, sort of. Last week, for xmas, The Texan made a turkey. Because we had the whole carcass at our disposal, he decided to boil it and make soup. A few days later, I started to smell something that, frankly, was rotting. And being the supportive, loving wife that I am, I immediately assumed that it was the turkey. It wasn't until I was wandering around the living room, going, "God, this almost smells like...rotten fruit" that it came to me. It was those damn oranges I'd made "decorations" out of by poking cloves in them and hanging up in the tree. They were all withering away on our tree of death, forcing me to toss every last one of them. I would like to point out that NONE of the sources I consulted on how to make those ornaments said anything about needing to take extra steps to preserve them. Stupid fruit. Say what you will about Twinkies, but those things preserve themselves.


  • At 5:47 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    dude, you left that trail of needles down the street to my dumpster that one year too...


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