Why I don't yet have a Christmas Tree

Apparently everyone and their mother put up their Christmas trees this weekend.

Except me.

For it was the last weekend of hunting season for my dear Lumberjack.

And, as buff as I look, I would not be able to haul the fab four around, pick out a tree, load the tree, and set the tree up in the house.

Heck.

Muscles are one of the only reasons why I even keep my manly man hunter around.

It is a good thing he is so darn handsome.

Or else I might have to get cranky about this:

Seriously.

I mean, what mother wouldn't want this lovely accessory in her child's play area?

Now, I know I said I was going to take a break from posting . . . seeing as how I just finished 30 days in a row.

But you can't make this stuff up, people.

Today is December 1st.

And it is the last day of hunting season.

And I assure you that all firearms are going immediately into the gun safe where they belong as soon as all this hunting nonsense is out of his system.

*Disclaimer*

No children were harmed, nearby, or even awake during the photographing of this rifle.

Also, no Lumberjacks were harmed . . . yet.

 

The End.

Tomorrow is December 1st.

Which means November is over.

Which also means NaBloPoMo is over.

And unlike my flaky friends, Melissa and Alisa, I posted each and every day in November.

Ok.

Maybe they aren't that flaky.

Perhaps they just have more of a life than I do.

Are you sick of me yet?

Because I am certainly not sick of you.

Okie-dokie, artichokies.

From Sunday's Post we had 4 fabulous questions.

Here are the answers and winners:

1)  What tragic event occurred on April 14th?

Titanic sunk

First person to know this was:  Kristen

My Uncle Greg also added that Lincoln was assassinated on April 14th.

I was not aware.

Thanks for that tidbit, Uncle G!

2)  Which two celebrities died this year on June 25th?

Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson

First person to answer that one right was: Melissa.

3)  Who sang "Happiest Christmas Tree?"

Nat King Cole

No one got this one.

Shameful.

Click on this link and you will hear this delightful Christmas song.

It is my kids' favorite. 

They stick out their little butts and shimmy all around the house whenever it is on.

4)  How many years did Rip Van Winkle sleep?

20

First person to answer that one: Uncle Greg

 

Nice work all you peeps out there.

And on that note: 

Farewell!

Guess what I don't have to do tomorrow . . .

A Lumberjack Thanksgiving, part two.

Yes, I am one of those crazy peoples who wakes up extremely early to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving.

The Lumberjack and I have an agreement:

During October and November he can hunt on any day that he has off from work . . .

but I get Black Friday.

I usually go shopping with my mother.

We decided to wait and start shopping at 6 this year, as opposed to the usual 430 or 5 start time.

My cell phone alarm was set for 5:15am.

And at 4:49am I got a text from:

 Melissa.

I'm not gonna lie . . . it was pretty annoying.

The text even sounded perky:

"Where are you going to be?  I just passed Kohl's and it is packed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Melissa.

4:49am is far too early for such an excessive number of exclamation points.

So, ma and I shopped till we dropped.

I got back to my house just in time to tidy up for the evenings festivities.

Our town has a parade and fireworks ceremony the day after Thanksgiving.

So all of my in-laws came over and we walked downtown.

Before we go any further, we must make mention of this guy:

Alex.

This is a picture of him from last summer.

Do you remember this one?

The event where he was attacking anyone, ages 3 months-87 years old with water balloons?

Alex, Alex, Alex.

So, Alex is really into roaring.

Roaring? you ask.

Yes.

Roaring.

As in, roaring like a lion.

When he gets around my fab four, he gets the urge to roar.

No words can describe this roar.

It is horrifying and obnoxiously loud.

And here's the thing:

HE DOES IT CONSTANTLY.

Can you see the new girl in this picture?

She is the lovely creature wearing the white coat.

Her name is Holly, and she may or may not be in a relationship with the roarer.

We are not certain.

But recent events on my Facebook news feed have led me to believe that Holly must be fond of roaring.

Because she'll be hearing it an awful lot.

If they are actually together, that is.

Jason.

Thank you, Lord, that Jason is not into roaring.

Amen.

Pa-in-law with Handsome Dude.

Waiting for the fireworks to start . . .

Ma-in-law with Daisy Mae.

Boredom.

Fireworks!

WooHoo!

Now, back to our house to celebrate Alex and Ma-in-law's birthdays.

Alex was sentenced to a "time out" on the couch.

He was asked repeatedly to stop roaring in the house.

He just didn't listen.

He was, however, allowed to open his presents while in his time out.

Now what could my lovely mother-in-law want for her birthday?

A firearm.

Classy, Lumberjack.

Classy.

Our one final event for the night:  the family photo.

Alex is in the back row, farthest on the right.

Can anyone take a wild guess as to what Alex could possibly be doing?

*sigh*

A Lumberjack Thanksgiving, part one

 

On Thanksgiving, the Lumberjack and I, along with our Lumberjacklings headed over to my in-laws.

My mother-in-law cooked us a delicious meal and then we retired to the living room to pour over the Black Friday ads.

Sweet Pea got bored with the ads.

She went downstairs and found some old dress-up clothes.

She pretended she was Santa Clause.

She handed out presents to everyone . . .

Ho Ho Ho

Merry Christmas to all . . . and to all a . . .

Goodnight.

Next, we loaded up all the kids and headed over to my parent's house for dinner.

Meet Willard.

Willard was the caretaker for my grandparent's estate about 30 years ago.

Willard has been joining us for the holidays for some time now.

Willard was born on April 14th.

My dad was born on April 14th.

What tragic event also occurred on April 14th many years ago?

Not that the birth of my dad or Willard should be considered tragic . . .

Yum.

Have you ever seen anything like this?

This is how The Lumberjack loads his plate.

He just layers it all into one big glob.

What a goober.

From left to right: Willard, my dad, Handsome Dude, and my Uncle Greg.

My Uncle Greg's birthday is June 25th.

The year will remain a mystery, as to not appall you.

I kid!  I joke!

Uncle Greg is a youngin'.

Two celebrities died on his birthday this year.

Can you name them?

Aunt Meagan and The Dudes dancing to "Happiest Christmas Tree."

Name that artist.

Back to the table for dessert!

Look!  It's another Greg!

This here is cousin Greg.

Of course, no holiday would be complete without a game of Trivial Pursuit.

There were more menfolk than womenfolk.

So, poor Uncle Greg had to join the ladies team.

It was an intense game.

The menfolk were schoolin' the womenfolk+Greg.

But the menfolk had a secret weapon:

Willard.

Now, poor Willard was pretty tired.

He kept falling asleep.

But when the menfolk needed to know the answer to a tricky question, they would just nudge him and out came the answer.

Genius!

Willard knew the answer to this one:

How many years did Rip Van Winkle Sleep?

Do you?

Willard also knows the recipe for LSD.

And he hands it out on recipe cards.

Inappropriate?

Yes.

Tomorrow's post will contain the rest of our exciting holiday festivities, plus you will find out why I gave this guy:

my brother-in-law, Alex, a time out.

Sure.

He looks innocent enough.

But trust me.

He can get pretty rowdy.

Today's post contained 4 questions:

1)  What tragic even occurred on April 14th many years ago?

2)  What two celebrities died on June 25th?

3)  Who sang "Happiest Christmas Tree?"

4)  How many years did Rip Van Winkle sleep?

Can you do it?

Help Wanted

This is how my stairs looked last Christmas:

I get chills just thinking about it.

This is how my stairs look now:

Why is the Lumberjack holding a gun at his Mother's birthday party?

More to come on this photo soon.

I am just waiting on my lovely sister-in-law, Lisa, for a photo to complete the post for that event.

Hurry up, Lisa!

Anywho . . .

Back to the stairs.

Ain't they pretty?

I have always dreamed of decorating my staircase railings for Christmas.

And after 6 years . . . I have railings!

But I am not clever in the home decor department.

So I need your help.

How should I decorate my stairs?

And how can I decorate my stairs in a such a way that it will withstand:

The dudes?

 

Just tell me the truth.

Do I always look this odd?

Every picture that is taken of me . . .

I don't know . . .

Am I just not ready for the picture?

Every single time?

That seems unlikely.

And could somebody please tell me what is up with my eyes?

Honestly.

Check me out there behind Sweet Pea.

Nice.

But this next one.

Oh, my.

Brace yourselves.

Frankly, I am speechless.

Attention all readers:  I am in desperate need of some help in the eye-liner applying department.

Please have pity on me.

Redemption.

That Lumberjack.

He makes me look good.

Jack and Mabel, part two

*For more on Jack and Mabel, click here*

Jack and Mabel were the two golden retrievers that the Lumberjack and I brought home during our first 3 months of marriage.

Let's review what we have already discussed about them:

1)  We bought them with the intent to breed, but that was a no-go, due to Mabel's sealed womb.

2)  They were terrors:

Fact:  They ate our floor

Fact:  They ate my old hairnets

Fact:  They jumped out of moving vehicles.

Fact:  They dug up the remains of my childhood dog, Joey, snacked on said remains,  and then got sick and threw up all over my parent's carpet.

So, at this point in our story, it is the year 2005.

The Lumberjack and I have been married for 5 years.

Sweet pea is 18 months old and Daisy Mae is 3 months old.

I was still in my "I think babies are challenging but I have no idea what I am talking about because I have yet to have a boy" phase.

Raise your hand if you just have girls.

Allow me to let you in on a little secret:

BOYS ARE WAY HARDER.

But I digress . . .

So, there I was:  A stay-at-home mom of two little girls and I was also trying to keep track of tweedle dee and tweedle dum:

I had no control over these dogs.

They would escape all the time, for hours on end, and I had no idea where they went.

One time, they were picked up on the FREEWAY.

Yes.

Safe, I know.

When they would return from their secret rendezvous, they would bring home other people's dog's toys, baseballs, shoes, and a whole assortment of odds and ends.

Half the time they would come home soaking wet, which led me to believe that they:

A) Took a jog down to the lake

B)  Were crashing backyard neighborhood pool parties.

One day, the Lumberjack came home and I was at my wit's end.

4 million points to anyone who can tell me what a wits' end is.

I could not keep track of these dogs.

So, we found a home for Jack.

I felt really guilty about this.

But it had to be done.

We gave Jack to a family friend and we told this friend that if he ever changed his mind, we wanted him back.

The first few days were pretty rough for me and Mabel, but ,eventually, we got used to life with one dog.

And since we kind of knew the guy who took Jack, we would occasionally hear updates.

*****Fast Forward 2 years********

The Lumberjack and I are in bed.

He is asleep.

I am doing my usual routine: think and worry about anything and everything I can.

Out of nowhere, my thoughts focus on Jack.

What have I done?!

He was my first baby?!

I used to love him so much . . . how could I give him away?

Me:  "Wake up!  Wake up!"

The Lumberjack: "Huh?"

Me:  "I miss Jack!"

*sob*wail*sob*

Now, we also have a brother-in-law named Jack.

This has my poor husband feeling slightly confused.

Him:  "Why do you miss Jack?"

Me:  "I can't believe I gave Jack away!"

Him:  "The dog?"

Me:  "I loved him!"

Him: "Jack was stupid.  Go to sleep."

Me:  "Have you heard any news on him?  Is he doing okay?"

Him:  "He is fine.  Go to sleep."

Me:  "Let's see if we can get him back."

Him:  "No."

Me:  "Please!  Life is easier now . . .the girls are older.  We could handle it now!"

Yes.

I thought life was easy.

God still hasn't blessed me with this dude yet:

Now, the Lumberjack hates chatting with me.

And he especially hates chatting with me when he is half-asleep.

Him:  "Go to sleep.  Jack is dead."

Me:  "What!  How do you know?"

Him:  "My parents told me.  He got hit by a car a few months ago.  Goodnight."

I am now sitting straight up in bed and I turn the light on.

Also, I am wailing.

Not just crying.

No.

I've got snot everywhere, I'm hyperventilating . . . it's not pretty.

Me:  "Why didn't you tell me?"

Him:  "Because you would act like this."

Me:  "Why did I give him away?"

So, I continue to wail for good 10-15 minutes.

My poor Lumberjack just really wants sleep.

Finally, he sits up.

"Ok.  He is not dead.  I haven't heard anything about him for awhile.  I am sure he is fine.  Can we go to sleep now?"

Me:  "What?  Why did you say he was dead?"

Him:  "I thought it would make you go to sleep quicker."

Clearly, my Lumberjack has a lot to learn about the inner workings of the female mind.

Now, I am not only upset about not having my dog, but I also am recovering from the fact that I thought he had been hit by a car.

And, to make things even more interesting, now I have to worry about the future of my marriage.

I really should never try to communicate with this man after 9 pm.

It truly does me no favors.