It's Halloween All Over My House...

...and I've been preparing for ages!  Okay, more accurately I've prepared for this day by doing nothing.  In anticipation of the holiday, I've let the spiders spin their webs undisturbed outside every window and door. Inside every surface is covered in dust, giving my home an eerie, abandoned look.   It's frightful.

Just as some people leave their Christmas lights up well into the new year, I think I'll leave my decorations as they are.  If anyone asks, I'll insist that I'm just getting a head start on next year.

Happy Halloween!

I'd Like to Know...

Exactly when does menopause become post-menopause?  I mean, if menopause starts when a woman has gone at least a year without menstruating, when does post-menopause begin?  The next day?  The next year?  When you no longer feel an overwhelming desire to kill your spouse?

If postpartum depression is triggered after having a child, can I still be suffering if my youngest is eight years old?  And what if I didn't actually give birth to the child?  I did have children, just not the ones I'm raising right now.  And I am depressed.  If it isn't postpartum depression, what can I call it?  And is it okay to treat it with alcohol?

Hide the knives and pass me the wine.

Deja Vu All Over Again

As my granddaughter headed toward another late night trying to catch up on some way overdue school assignments, my husband reminded me that our youngest daughter had been a champion procrastinator, too. He mentioned all the times I had stayed up until the wee morning hours typing reports for her that were due that morning.  I can honestly say that I had conveniently forgotten those days.  Or maybe I'm just too darned tired to remember.

So here I am at one a.m. approximately ten years later.  What am I doing up this late???  Helping my granddaughter type her report.  Well, more accurately I'm helping her print her report (thank God for small miracles).  But it's still late, and I'm still tired.

Can't an old lady get some sleep?

Just Because Martha Made It...

... doesn't mean:

I must buy it;

I must make one just like it;

I'm worthless if mine doesn't look or taste as good as hers.

I've been watching Martha Stewart's show a lot lately, and I've got to admit the woman's got it going on!  But I don't have her life, her money, her energy, her creativity, her staff, her many, many gorgeous homes, or her self-esteem.  I need to find a way to be okay with that.

Perhaps I'll create an empire where I:

show others how to discard plants that died of neglect;

dress in a way that hides clothing stains rather than waste time removing them;

put together a craft so that it looks like a preschooler made it;

cook a meal so that no one will ask for the recipe;

teach others how to put down throw rugs so there will be a place in every room to wipe the crumbs from your feet;

hire a contractor to enlarge your home when disorganized clutter takes over every inch of the current square footage;

entertain others in your home to ensure that all future dinner parties will be hosted by them;

and by doing all the above, save your sanity.

Love you, Martha!