December kinda snuck up on me. I was so focused on getting funds and family together for Thanksgiving that it didn't occur to me that November was over. And now it's Christmas, and I have a whole new set of challenges to tackle. My mother-in-law had back surgery yesterday to correct a slipped disk/pinched nerve that had left her with no reflexes in her left leg. She's aware that the timing sucks, but she was afraid to wait, afraid that the damage might be permanent. I'm not sure what we can do to help her from here, but I'll think of something. On a less important note, I'd like to host Christmas dinner here again this year for Momma and Larisa, but first I've got some more remodeling to work on. There's no way in hell I'll get it finished, but we've GOT to get some kind of flooring in place in the remainder of the kitchen, and decide once and for all if we're pulling out the island and replacing it with an U-shaped configuration. Do we pull out the paneling and two layers of wallpaper and replace it with sheetrock, or do we just paint over the mess? Can we reuse the existing cabinets for now or are we going to have to try to scrape together some serious financing? Can I make do with the existing antique Jenn-Air, or are new appliances required? More sleepless nights, more impossible days and weekends. But hey, this is life. This is what it's like in a world where every day is a new crisis and a new adventure and a new opportunity to screw up or excel. Gotta love it.
On the ride into work this morning I let myself be lost in the foggy mist and enjoyed the last of the snow from this past weekend. It will no doubt be gone soon, soaked into the ground as if it never existed. Snow for me has always held a deeper meaning. I am happiest when it snows, yet I couldn't begin to explain why. So I looked out the window, imagining romantic characters striding across the pure white expanses, and just breathed in the beauty. Snow wraps around the seemingly dead landscape, and whispers promises of rebirth and renewal as it gently cradles the world in its soft, white blanket.
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