A Tale Of Two Cities

Well.  We have hauled out the holly yet again.  Didn't we just have Christmas?  Is it really only 2 days away?
Every year I go through at least 28 decorating dilemmas.  Should I use the same old lights?  Do I put out the Santas in the same place?  Is the wreath too worn out to hang up?  Should I pack up and protect the handmade ornaments?  Or hang them? 

How do we ever survive the holidays?  I have a knack for turning the smallest decision into a huge headache. 
The traveling, the gift buying, the decorating, the entertaining... I can make it all much more stressful than it has to be.
A few years ago, I received a beautiful new nativity set.

I love it, but now I have two.  Actually, I have 4 or 5... most of which are safely stored away in layers of paper.  I still display the one we bought the first year we were married.  This set is old, and the folks are a bit worn out... kind of like us.

 

 

So instead of packing up the old sentimental set, or not using the new fancy set, I put them both out.  Two Marys, two Josephs, two babies, six wise men, two donkeys, two shepherds, two sheep, and one cow.  I told you I like to complicate things. 

The more I look at them, the more I like having two.  I suppose the scene in Bethlehem is one thing we can never have enough of.

If I Run Away

For the boy's Fall Break, we went to The Happiest Place on Earth.  Again.

 

 

 

If it were up to me, I would go to Disney every year.  Maybe twice.  Three times a year isn't inconceivable.  But I'm not independently wealthy, and Dan/Daddy says we need to go on other trips and see other places.  Blah, blah, blah.  Tell that to these faces...

 

 

 

 It was a fantastic vacation, and there was only one sad moment... The day we had to leave.

 

 

 

If I ever go missing or run away from home, you will know where to find me.



Tweezers, Eyebrows, And I'm Back

I have developed a bad habit of not keeping up with blogging.  Maybe it's the busy pace of life.  Maybe I've been out saving the world.  Maybe I should stop lying.

To the 3 of you who read my random stories, please accept my lame apologies.
Now here's a tale I promise I didn't make up.

A few months ago,  I had my eyebrows threaded for the first time. Have you heard of threading?  The practice of threading apparently started thousands of years ago.  A piece of thin thread is used (by a person who knows what they're doing) to pluck your eyebrow hairs.  It's supposed to be less painful than waxing.
When left alone, my eyebrows look like 2 woolly caterpillars.  I've used tweezers on them for years, and I've had them waxed from time to time. 
I had heard of threading, and when a friend told me she did it, I thought I would give it a try.

The young girl who led me to a chair looked at my face and said,
"Do you know your eyebrows are two totally different shapes?"
Well. 
How have I been walking around?
My verdict on threading?  It hurt.  A lot.  My eyebrows looked good, but it took about 18 hours for the redness to calm down.  On my second visit, the technician took off so many hairs, I looked like a plucked chicken.
That afternoon, I asked the boy if my eyebrows looked bad.  He said,
"How fast do eyebrows grow?"
I was done with threading, and I decided to grow my eyebrows back out.  Well, first I had to actually grow them back.

Not long after the plucked chicken incident, I lost my favorite pair of tweezers.  No big deal, you say.  Buy new tweezers, you say. 
I did.  I bought about 5 sets of tweezers.  I tried and tried to find a pair like the ones I'd lost, but none of them were the same.
Then one day, while vacuuming out my car, I found my old tweezers.  Under the seat.
I have no idea how they got there.
Maybe they were trying to run away from home... Dying of embarrassment from my plucked chicken eyebrows.

I've always had a chap stick/lip gloss hoarding problem.  Now I have tweezers to go with them.