It's 3 days until Christmas--well, more like 2 and a handful of hours--and some pretty unpleasant gifts have been delivered by probably the Grinch. For me personally, there is the Gift of this crazy, awful, haven't-been-this-sick-in-years flu/head cold from Hell virus that at least waited until all the work was done on the barn on Saturday to start killing me slowly and painfully. Three days in and each day has been a new set of miserable symptoms that trump those of the day before. It's safe to say that this, in combination with the fact that the 2 skeins of yarn that I needed from Knit Picks to finish what was set up to be the most amazing Penguins hockey cap ever in the history of hockey took 7 days to arrive (while the yarn I didn't need right now that was ordered later took 2 days) means the end of any expectations that I had of a Christmas FO. I finally had to just throw in the towel and order a ball cap. I'm not very merry about it, but I am too sick to kick it into high gear and the husband is going to be home through the holidays so I'd have to knit in the closet and that's not weird or suspicious at all.
All Kinds of Unwanted Gifts
The other Unwanted Gift is this mid-summer weather that we are about to be hit with in late December. We couldn't beg, borrow, or steal rain over the summer but now that we have half of the walls up and half of them on the ground to be put up for the main floor of the barn, we will be getting 10 days of insanely heavy rain with temps in the upper 70s (because what we all secretly want Santa to bring is hot, humid, gloomy, sticky weather for Christmas, right?)
That's not the best part. There's a threat of TORNADOS tomorrow with rain upwards of 2 inches. If there's one thing that can be counted on around here, rain or shine, it's high winds. We might as well live on the windward side of the Alps. High winds and flood water are the enemies of barn builders and Christmas revelers. It's going to be a tense next 3 days around here.
The last unwanted gift of the season, which is directly connected to the fact that Mother Nature has lost her friggin' mind, is the onslaught of summer insects. We are being overrun with, first, lady bugs and now stink bugs and house flies. What season is it again?
At least everything, and I mean everything on my list (save that one pesky hat)--I do all the shopping, sometimes even for myself, at Christmas--except for one measly gift card, has been bought, knit, hidden away, or wrapped and shipped. I've even gotten the groceries, which was no small feat of magic with one foot in the grave and a Walmart full of crazed holiday shoppers. I'm down to the wrapping of the last few packages and the praying that the most wanted gift on my husband's list actually shows up by the 24th like it's supposed to. I'm relying on the U.S. Postal Service, so chances are ... we'll get it on the 26th.
This is not to say that we haven't had our share of blessings this year. We have had more than our fair share and we are grateful. Despite every only-in-the-movies kind of craziness that has been thrown our way, we have come out of it with more lemonade than lemons. It's been a rough year, and I, for one, am thankful to be looking at the end of it with the people who have my back and love me unconditionally to share it with. (Well, there are probably conditions like "I'll love you forever if you take me to practice, mom!"--I have teenagers.)
So tonight, I'm just going to slurp my chicken noodle soup loudly because no one is home to hear it, maybe knit something, wrap a couple things, and fall asleep watching whatever old movie I can find on the TV with my fingers crossed that Wednesday will be quiet and uneventful.