Last weekend, when I should have been finishing up on handmade gifts and doing prep work for the Christmas Eve shindig, instead I chose to be taping doorways and making streaks of paint down dining room walls.
I can't say I *love* the color...I had paint cards on the wall for ages, but the actual 'picking' of a color happened within five desperate minutes at the paint counter at Lowe's. I love the color in theory but several rooms downstairs are some shade of robin's egg or another and I think it may be just a bit much. Thinking back I should have gone with my gut and painted it a silvery/light gray instead of a light blue...but it will do. Seeings how I hate painting so much- it will probably 'do' for the next twenty years or so, knowing me. I can absolutely, without-a-doubt say I am happy to be rid of the brown stripes though. Boy, did they bother me. I much prefer the crisp and clean look myself. Stripes, begone!
Though admittedly, something must be done with that great big wall once the snowflakes come down. It is very stark. Very stark, indeed...which I never really noticed with the stripes.
I reined myself in on every temptation to buy flowers for Christmas Eve hosting- oh boy, was that tempting. Instead I gathered branches and boughs and tucked the fronds here, fronds there. The children made snowflakes from pasta and popsicle sticks- Adele' was most intent on this- making four more than anyone else. We spray painted them silver with our leftover spray paint and with them, a few branches for a vase in the kitchen. That was the extent of our decorating.
I tried to do too much and as is often the case when I try to do too many things at once~ some of the rolls burned on bottom, the fudge didn't set well, the cheesecake was a bit clumpy and during the lasagna baking, some of the pan dripped onto the bottom of the oven, making the delicious smell of burning liquid turning to charcoal waft through the entire house and giving the air a sort-of almost flaming ambiance for our houseful of guests. It was truly a magnificent experience.
|notice the haze in which this picture is taken...and the open door in the kitchen. My shame knows no bounds.|
I am almost always impressed with the great degree and extent to which I fail. When I fail, I want to do so as flamboyantly and as miserably as possible. Success!
The next morning, having stayed up the night before until after midnight, Matt and I were very distressed to hear eager chatter and frittering going on downstairs at 4:30am. And like good parents, we tried to ignore it. It only earned us an hour or so more before we could not pretend to sleep any longer. The children had waited to open their stockings until we came down~ which endeared them to me even further. Sweetlings.
Christmas was overwhelmingly beautiful, with children proudly and anxiously passing along gifts to us and each other with those wonderful grins and snowflakes dancing from heaven and a spoiled Mama and a husband who oozes love and a Boy, given to earth...the Light of the World.