So here it is, nothing held back, the honest to goodness truth...I like to write. In fact, I've written a novel. For some reason admitting that is very difficult for me. I don't know why. I've searched my brain for answers, wrote down some of my weirder dreams, (Freud would have a field day!) and tried hypnotism. Quick note; it is very hard to hypnotize yourself. For a second I thought I might have succeeded, but then realized I had dozed off. Even with all of this extensive research, I am no closer to discovering why. Although, I believe that is why my Christmas cards get sent out in July and my blogs aren't very regular.
The only reason I am actually blogging today is to get out of cleaning. We started our Christmas decorating on Saturday. (when I say we I really mean me. I am married to Carl the scrooge.) I forgot that decorating is WORK. Cleaning up after all that decorating is even more WORK. Urgh. It was so much easier when I was a kid. The only thing required of me was to put ornaments on the tree. Later, when she thought we were sleeping, my mom would take all the ornaments off the tree so she could redecorate it. It sounds tedious, and you may wonder why she went through the effort. Actually it wasn't much of an effort for her since we had a tendency to put all the ornaments on the same branch. Not only was our mode of decorating efficient, it also made sneaking the candy canes that much easier.
