Moving van

Jump on in, folks. I'm moving to a new blog url.

Yes I know, I could just change the title up there, but then it wouldn't match the url, and well, that'd cross the line into unbearable. Did I mention I'm a fierce type-A?

So please join me over at 60piggies. And kindly update your bookmarks and links.

PS I think it's quite funny that none of you opted to tell me that Sugar Rush is the name of a semi-popular Brit novel/TV series. Being that I'm straight, almost thirty, and relatively crime-free, I can't imagine all the false advertising that name construed.

Wishing my nine(!) year old

a thoroughly piratical birthday.

Sibling love

After naptime, Em likes to walk into his little sister's room and say, "Good morning! It's a shiny day!"

Makes me smile every time.

harbinger

Elle is great.

When she's heartbroken, which occurs about twice every hour, she gets her lower lip quivering in the most pathetic of ways. On command.

It's quite impressive, and she's only two.

So I'm thinking we might be looking at a long sixteen years.

Procrastination

This is going to be a sashing quilt for Jer&Ann's lil girl. Any day now.



Confession: I haven't worked on it since the last time I posted about it, which was, oh, August I think. So my new strategy is to post an image so you all can say, "And by the way, Nicki, how is that quilt coming along?" And I can fidget and hem and haw and we can enjoy an awkward silence together, and then perhaps I shall be motivated to get my butt in gear.

You never know.

O Tannenbaum

So we did the tree thing.

I like the idea of cutting our own tree; honestly I do. But for one thing, all the forests around here are owned by people with hunting rifles.

And then there's the tree farm idea, which is charming in theory. We tried it once, and the reality turned out to be more of a wet, freezing, whiny mess of a thing that yielded one stubby tree. It was trying to be a handsome tree, but this just wasn't in its genes.

So. We took the easy smart route this year and went to Lowe's. Lovely place, Lowe's. And we paced the aisles and held up this tree and that tree until they all looked the same and we bought one.

(And I am wondering, sort of as a sidenote here, how it is that a tree can be perfectly straight at the store, but you get home and the trunk is bent and angled in the most obvious of ways. I'm smelling a conspiracy.)

So the decorating part went well. Elle gave her ornaments to her brothers, as she was having trouble negotiating hooks over prickly branches. But she was quite good at pulling glittery, breakable tidbits off the tree, and walking around ooohing and wowing to herself about just how glittery (and breakable) they were. And then Zee knocked the tree over at one point. Plus somehow five billion ornaments ended up on the bottom 1/10th of the tree. So all in all, it went well.

And tonight we gathered round the crooked tree and read Christmas stories and carolled to ourselves amidst twinkle lights and the faint scent of fraser-fir.

What a lovely little tree. I suppose it can stay.

abit on the frigid side

It's a blustery sort of day in that charming, freeze-your-boots-off kind of way.

A day where the wind sweeps all color from the sky and tangles your hair with stray snowflakes.

A day where the only sensible cure is a mug of hot chocolate.

Cheers.