Merry -oops- Christmas

Sunday was definitely one of those days where it is good that brain surgery was not my chosen path. An unfortunate day when bad luck and mishaps jumped out at me as I turned every corner.
After spending a good half hour (likely an hour plus an eternity by Scroogy Jason's timekeeping) we determined that our crooked Christmas tree just could not be righted, so we shoved one issue of InStyle and another issue of Cooking Light magazine under the stand and called it done.
I started to wrap my strand of pretty multi-colored lights around, only to realize that I was just one third up the tree, but with 1/16th of the strand left in hand. With determined patience I hopped in the car to return to Lowes. Lowes let me down. Three weeks ago there had been a full aisle of lights, of many and sundry types, shapes and sizes, and beckoning lighted Santa Claus', snowmen and miniature motion-activated carollers. This week there were about twelve types of extension cords but none of the lights I'd seen on my last visit. (Mental note that if you don't get to Lowes the weekend after Thanksgiving, you will have a very dark Christmas.) So off to Home Depot, where there were lights, but none to match the kind I had at home. As someone who feels like she occasionally puts up with too much of "almost good enough" I was determined not to have mismatched lights. So I bought two new strands. And then back drove home, (stopping by a gas station where I put 75 cents in the vacuum machine to suck up the pine needles in my trunk and backseat, from the tree's journey home, only to learn that the machine apparently breaks down in the cold and therefore had no suction to offer. I drove on with needles hastily brushed away instead. See what I mean by putting up with 'almost good enough?') I returned to my tree only to realize that one of the new Home Depot strands did not even work. Even after fuse replacement that certainly mirrored brain surgery. ARGH. (Lights pictured above courtesy of Target.)
And I burnt a batch of Christmas cookies too. Then I tried another type later that night and they never seemed to cook well enough. Since these six dozen cookies were for a Girl's Night Cookie Swap I certainly couldn't offer up undercooked treats to people who I consider friends. This is where I learned that you cannot re-cook your holiday cookies, especially after you have painstakingly lifted them off of the pan and onto delicately balanced cookie racks.
If you don't hear back from me and Jason for a few weeks it may be that I have killed us with under-cooked salmonella infected cookies. Or that our tree has fallen down off of its magazine perch, with lights blowing out and hit us on our heads. If so, perhaps the cat can carry on this blog.
Merry Christmas!


Jean Therapy said...

I'm sorry you had, what sounds like, a very trying day! But hey, I love undercooked cookies :)

And I've found that when in need, the tube of nestle tollhouse cookie dough actually makes fairly decent cookies. Usually, the dough never makes it to the oven. A spoon and dessert is served :)

PS...I love the picture of you with the cat and tree, super cute!!

Andra said...

Hey, don't feel bad. I think the holidays magnify (exponentially, it seems) otherwise inconsequential frustrations for all of us! You could always take the route Mike and I chose this year...we are skipping Christmas all together, using the excuse of our impending move. Bah humbug, I guess. Hee hee. :)

Abby said...

(since blogger wasn't nice to me earlier, here's a recap of what i wrote.)

Did I tell you about our tree toppling over last year? We decorated it, and all was fine. The next day, while we sat eating breakfast, not having walked by the tree for at least 15 minutes, it suddenly decided it needed a lie-down (just had dinner with a Brit). Water, water, everywhere. And only two broken ornaments.

This year's tree has no lights or decorations yet, but two pads of Post-Its evened out the wobbly legs of the stand.

(Now I have to finish my final assignment of the year!)


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