Hose the House in Christmas Cheer

Okay with my painting frenzy done, it is time to pay attention to other things. I'm sure the Southern Stepford Borg is wondering why my house was not festooned in holiday spirit the day after Thanksgiving, as most of those robot houses were, but they can bite me.


Tonight Dear Husband and I will attend a Christmas Party, and tomorrow hoo boy I will decorate the house. Now it will not look like we let elves on caffeine loose in the house, but it will look super purty. Dear Husband has some clients coming over next week, and we do not want them to think that we are present day grinches.


My cats will do their part to help.

Scooter is fascinated with cardboard boxes, and I will have so many in the living room tomorrow that I could build a pretty bitchin' fort. I'm sure she will figure out how to shimmy her robust self into some open cardboard crevice, and then I will hear muffled kitty noises, and try to figure out where the honk she wound up. Once the tree is up, she will steal the silver bead strands I use instead of tinsel, and they will be in all sorts of rooms, just waiting for a unsocked human foot to step on.



Inky is not so much into the whole tree thing anymore, but she does like curling up on the tree skirt - that is until the interloper presents get in her way. Now, if the tree had garlands of crunchy cat food, I'm sure she would be all about it, but yeah not so much. In her younger days, she had a penchant for chomping these funky, shiny wise men that graced my family tree, but so far she has not found any other worthy ornament opponent to pique her interest.

So that will be Saturday. Saturday night I will cook a lovely roasted chicken dinner, and enjoy the purtyness that is a house hosed in Christmas cheer.