"Perhaps the best Yuletide decoration is being wreathed in smiles."
Unlike some of the members of my family I'm not really a betting woman. But I'm pretty sure if you ask a group of women when is the best time to have the kitchen ceiling painted, 99% of them would NOT pick three weeks before Christmas. My idea of festive decorations does not include plastic drop cloths, strips of dried paint stuck on the counter tops and the smell of paint instead of cinnamon and cloves.
I have made my peace with the yellow and white speckled house. My father is collecting bids to have it painted and when he decides on one it will be done to his specifications. It's his deal not mine.
On the other hand as the kitchen maven who is expected to cook and clean I feel a little resentful to have to turn my "space" over to Paul the handyman and his assistant Robby. I'm not totally ungrateful that the big spot in the center of the dinette is being fixed. I guess I'm just happy that it wasn't done right the last time (when I did it) and the fact that "let's git her done" thinking is messing with my trying to be jolly mood swings.
Complaining about it isn't going to do me any good. And I must admit that the finished product looks pretty good. It's the white dust and paint spatter that is now going to have to be addressed before anything else. Also, I'm feeling a bit of a paint-smell headache working itself around my eyes and into my sinus cavity. I'm not sure what I'll do with the birds this evening. They are in the bedroom now but come time to hop into the sack they will need a place that is out of the way of sickly but still predatory cats and paint fumes. It's cold and rainy outside. They may just have to spend some time in the bathroom! I will not be happy to wake up in the morning to find the bird boys lying with their tiny legs up in the air. There is a reason canaries are sent into coal mines ahead of the miners. I don't want to test the poisonous gas smelling potential of a bird who sings a pretty good version of Jingle Bells.
I had hoped to write about decorations today. Alas, they are still upstairs in the closet. This year might very well be the year I've been threatening for years - the year without lights and ornaments and fake evergreen. It might just turn out to be the year of bright white paint!
As you pull each of your favorite decorations out of its storage box, I wish you time enough for enjoying and remembering.