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November 2011

Day 30: I #NaBloPoMo'd This Here Blog Aaaaand, I Liked It (Sort of!)

Today is the LAST DAY of NaBloPoMo and this marks my 30th blog post, this month.

Deep breath, exhale, repeat.

I realize that there is way more news-worthy stuff going on in the world at the moment and, honestly, can think of at least several other note-worthy achievements I'd rather claim, like:

  • Inventing a dust repellent (totally safe, unless you are dust, of course!)
  • While I'm at it, making lint, split ends, blogging over the age of 40 and wearing pajamas to work totally fashionable and uber-trendy (also, bringing back the word uber!)
  • Creating a sarcasm font (balanced by an equally efficient auto politically correcter, of course!)
  • Also, self-washing AND self-folding clothes.

You know, stuff like that.  Because, seeing as I am entering my 9th year of blogging (i.e. will be moving to my toes, in order to keep track, real soon) I feel it safe to say that life has a way of squashing one's motivation...period.

Especially, when under the influence of teenagers (just wait, you'll see!) also, it's sort of hard to argue with an algorithm.

Which is probably why, around halfway through the month, I was pushing myself at 10:30 p.m. to sit down, relax and just write.

So, yes, my committing to AND actually following through NaBloPoMo is indeed a BIG FRIGGIN' DEAL!

Aaaaand, not so much for the notoriety or page hits (actually, judging by this month's blog stats, not at all) you know, that I know, that you know AND even if you don't, NaBloPoMo'ing does NOT make me a better blogger, than you, or anyone else.

On the other hand (or foot) I hope you do forgive me, for my feeling like less of a dork...for just one day...to be able to say...I DID IT...NaBloPoMo'd the h-e-double-hockey sticks out of this here blog!

Aaaaand, while I'm at it, I hereby proclaim myself as the "Queen of Awesome!"

[ducks to avoid falling sky]

On this here blog, anyway.

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

Aaaand, so this ENDS my NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed (PHEW!) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

Bathroom/Library Redo, Done, For Real (I Think!)

So, remember how I decided to redo the bathroom/library a few days before hosting a houseful on Thanksgiving?

Aaaaand, then I was just sitting there, minding my own business and preparing a mental list of things to forget....GASP!!!!

Bathroom Before 5
When I realized that, after taking the poor beat up old pantry (up there) out to the garage....I mean....storage area....there was absolutely nothing to lean on while, you know, thinking.

Then, my husband Garth (NHRN) had a brilliant idea.

"Why don't you just take the door off and put those basket thingies in it?!?"

[blink, blink, blink]

BRILLIANT!!! 

So, on Thanksgiving Eve, I repainted it (pistachio) then sponged it (golden rod) for good measure.  Now we have a place to lean on AND store our unmentionables and stuff.

Although, someone swiped my brand new magazines and cut 'em all up to make a collage for a last-minute art project [cough-cough-Holly-cough-cough] DAGNABIT!

So, I "borrowed" two baskets from someone's cubby (thanks, Holls!) because, parenting IS all about give and take, you know?

NOW...I feel content in officially calling the bathroom/library redo...done (I think!) and you're welcome.

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

#NaBloPoMo Day 28:
Old Country Fiddle

Todays Prompt:  describe an heirloom that has been passed down through generations of your family. What is its significance to you personally?

Old World Violin

This is my grandfather's fiddle.  Although, my father doesn't remember his father ever playing it (then again, my dad escaped Hungary when he was 19) as the family genealogist, he passed it on to me.

Violins play a prominent role in Hungarian folks songs -- especially, gypsy music. 

One of my favorite childhood memories is going to see Gypsy Joe and his orchestra play at the Hungarian Club and dancing the Csardas (ch-ahhr-dahh-sh) with my grandmother, on New Year's Eve.

Although, the appraiser didn't seem very impressed by the fact the stick is fashioned with real horse hair (or wild hog, I forget) considering all the miles this fiddle has traveled and the stories behind the hands that lived its music, in my eyes, it is a true treasure.

 

Aaaaand, I like to imagine my grandfather, playing it, just like this and (at about 2 minutes, 30 seconds in) start twirling like it was 1974, all over again, because violins do that to me. 

I guess it's in my blood, you know?  Hoop-pah!!!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

All Decked Out & No Place Like Home

Black Friday at Gram's House

Decking the halls, walls and/or anything that stood still long enough at my mother-in-law's house on Friday.  But, wait, there's more!

DSCN9461
Hope all decked-out and taking a well-deserved break before dinner guests arrived at our house, last night.  But, not quite finished yet.

Mama and Papa's Tree

Because, today at their Mama's and Papa's house, the kids are getting REAL GOOD at trimming trees.  Anyone else need any help? Got hot chocolate?  A dozen cookies, or twenty?

Home again, all snuggled in my favorite chair and enjoying a hot cup of tea.  Let the holidaze begin!

In the meantime, I'll be right ovuh-heh, unable to move until probably sometime mid-December...YO!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

Where There Is Smoke, There is Dinner

My husband, Garth (NHRN) worked the last 2 weekends and spent Black Friday putting out one fire after another at the bank.

By the time he got home, well, you know that saying about getting away with poking the bear once?  Nope.  They lied.  I just hope my eyebrows grow back by Christmas.

So, on penalty of dismemberment, I asked the kids to...please, for the love of all things holiday...let their father sleep in, this morning.

The kids insisted I wasn't telling them the truth.

"What's wrong with him?  Is he sick?  No, really, did you even check if he's still home?"

Because, they know he is the early-riser of their parental units (annoyingly pleasant, too) the fact that mom was up before dad, feeding the pets, making the coffee AND unloading the dishwasher...just...does...not...compute...before 7:00 a.m., even...wth?!?

After nearly 22 years of marriage (I know, we've been together longer than some of you have been alive and unromantically symbolized by copper, btw) I can't remember the last time he slept past 9:00 a.m., either.

Until, today.

"Good afternoon!"

So, of course, I spent the rest of the day reminding him how nice of me it was to allow him the 240 EXTRA MINUTES, to himself, all comfy cozy, while I put out one fire after another (in between dismembering teens and tweens, of course) and, you know, Merry Christmas early!

Besides, we were having company for dinner tonight and, considering EVERYONE is pretty much sick of turkey, by now, we decided to tag-team the food shopping.

Then, we put up our Christmas tree (who knew they would keep quiet long enough for me to keep my promise, DAGNABIT!) so, by the time I finished putting dinner in the oven, I was pretty much running on fumes.

BLEEP!  BLEEP!  BLEEP!  BLEEP!  BLEEP!

The smoke alarm went off while my 12 year-old son was playing Xbox with some of his friends.

"Dude, is your house on fire?!?"

[one beat, two beats]

"Nah, that just means dinner is ready."

It's been a loooooooooong day, my friends. 

Tomorrow, we're off to help my parents put up their tree and only then will our holidaze be complete.

Or, as we like to say here in Jersey, "Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-friggin-la!"

In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs, replacing the smoke alarms and trying to remember why in the hell I had children, again?!?

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

The Money Shot

My mother-in-law gave me simply the best compliment, yesterday.

"Your house is always so warm and inviting."

Seeing that it is basically held together with spit and Elmer's glue.  Seriously, having tacked up the loose wallpaper on Thanksgiving Eve, I am not even kidding.

Stupid Hurricane Irene!

So, besides telling me that I look way thinner, it really was the nicest thing you could say to me, at the moment.

"I just don't have your energy, anymore."

What do you say to that?  To a woman who, as long as I've known her and even way before then, has loved the holidays best? 

In my head, I was thinking all of the possible responses (and this would be a real good time to thank goodness you are not in my head) like:

  • Well, I am, like what, 40 years younger than you?
  • Yes, but you should see me tomorrow morning?
  • Did I mention, you are much older than I am?

Instead, I promised to help my mother-in-law put out some of her Christmas decorations, today.

"But, why do I have to go?"

Much to the dismay of my 12 year-old son.

"It would make her happy and I said so."

Because, I'm good with the reasoning like that.

Black Friday at Gram's House

Although he would never admit it (out loud) that is totally my son's, "Yeah, you were right, Mom" face.

I texted my middle girl this photo, who stayed home to rest (stupid migraines!) and honestly, we had SUCH a great time.

Then, on the way home, my son hollered, leaving me slightly deaf in my right ear.

"QUICK!  Pull over, Mom!!"

In my head, I was thinking all of the possible reasons why (yadda, yadda) finally deciding that, having just passed some major roadkill, I had indeed waited too long to feed the boy.

Turns out, he just thought the sky was too awesome NOT to stop and take a closer look.

Aaaaand, he was right. It really was one of the prettiest sunsets I have ever seen.

But, this?  Being able to see his warm and happy expression, right through the shadows?  In my opinion, it is the money shot.

And, to think, we almost missed it, if it weren't for one simple little compliment.

Thanks, Mom!

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.

Turkey Neck for Your Thoughts

We've hosted more than a dozen Thanksgivings (yes, on purpose!) however, this year marks a first.

We were ALL seated and eating by 1:30 p.m.

My in-laws aren't comfortable driving at night, anymore (we live in Jersey, I don't blame them) and I'm not comfortable with my parents driving the 45 minutes to get home (give or take an hour, which is  equal to about 45-50 miles, if you're not from Jersey) either.

Still, in our minds, each moment we get to share, with each other, is a gift.

So, my husband Garth (NHRN) and I decided to have dinner early, giving our parents time to sit, enjoy themselves and then get home with time enough to spend a quiet evening, with each other.

Us, too.

So, now that the dishes are done (mostly) the dining room broken down and the kiddie table is back in the garage, it's time to start celebrating our own private little Thanksgiving.

I've already missed half of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (the Jim Carrey version is our favorite and lines from the movie may or may not be quoted, throughout the year) soon to be followed by Christmas Vacation.

So, pardon me, while I change into my pajamas and squee-gee myself into a spot on the couch.

"Whassup with the turkey neck?"

Of course, I couldn't pull ANY of this off without the help of my husband, Garth (NHRN) and yet, have to remind him, every year, about the turkey neck.

"It's for my grandmother."

It was her favorite and in my mind, 8 years after her passing, she still gets first dibs.  I know.  I'm a dork.  Still.

"If she shows up to eat it, I'm leaving!"

[one beat, two beats]

"Go ahead and give it to the Doofus-Dawg!"

I may be a tired, wigged-out, slightly sore and totally pms-ing major dork, at the moment (you're welcome) but, my Nagy Mama did NOT raise no fool.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, my friends.

© 2003 - 2011 This Full House

I'm NaBloPoMo-ing it, this month (first time NaBloPoMo-er) feel free to check out what I've NaBloPoMo-ed, thus far (PHEW!) and let me know how I'm doing (I mean, 30 posts, in 30 days, really?!?) when you have time, of course!

  Feed me, see more!

© This Full House 2003-2017. All rights reserved.