Been enjoying my Christmas break way too much to post about flying, so this will be my only post about flying away from home.
That said, it's going quite well, actually. I'm focusing on the good habits God is forming in me regarding personal care. Since I arrived at my parents' house, every morning has included getting dressed in day clothes, brushing my hair, shaving my face, brushing my teeth, washing my face, making my bed, and reading my Bible. I've also made breakfast for myself and the boys every day, and I try to work on the dishes, if Mom and Dad don't beat me to them.
They frequently beat me to the dishes because they have a well-oiled dishes system in place already. Nevertheless, I did shine my mom's sink for her. Check it out.
That was happy. And by the way, I have to say, even though no one asked me to, that the first pic of the sink above was a particularly dishy day I happened upon. The sink is pretty clean most of the time.
Mom and I are configuring her hot spots to accommodate Christmas guests (we'll have sixteen family members here on Christmas morning), and I haven't photographed Mom's Hot Spot Extravaganza, but it's coming along nicely.
I did, however, document my own hot spots for your viewing pleasure. This is what unpacking looked like for me.
This is how stuff got dumped from the car when I brought it all in.
Ah, that's better.
After two days, I got sick and tired of pawing through this mountain of clean laundry.
Hey, look! There's a floor down there! You can see the boys' nicely housed clothes peeking out of the dresser.
It appears that hot spots follow me around like Pig Pen with his cloud of dust.
So pleasing! This bureau, by the way, dates back to the beginning of my memory. The record player sat on top of it, the kids' records lived in the bottom drawer. I used to sit in front of this and listen to Sterling Holloway's Peter and the Wolf with a pair of ginormous white 70's headphones. Good times.
Pretty sure that's my crayola scrawl. Guess I doodled while I listened to records.
This is where I've spent the past ten days, without my hubby, getting very good sleep. But I'd trade good sleep for Jeff's strong arms any day of the week and twice on Sunday. This is my old room, by the way. Part of the reason I sleep well in it.
And last but not least, aren't these the happiest curtains you ever saw? Happy, happy curtains.
And that, my dears, is that. My next flying post will be a sad lament about unpacking all of our trip paraphernalia sometime in the dismal wintery anticlimax known as the month of January. I'm not going to think about that now. I'll think about that next year.
Right now, I am thinking of being home for the holidays
For no matter how far away you roam
If you want to be happy in a million ways
For the holidays, you can't beat home, sweet home...