the fishbowl effect

I feel like I have a lot of things to tell you

like about how I'm so congested it feels like a Mack truck is parked in my sinuses

Or how I've left my Christmas sewing mess strewn about the living room for the past week, assuredly driving everyone who lives in this house absolutely bonkers.

Listen, I'm sorry, I'll clean it up, I promise.  I just have like 5 more things to sew which could take the rest of the month with my track record so don't hold your breath for that one to happen anytime soon.

My mom called me this morning to ask me if I wanted to go with her to the holiday home tour down in her Sanpete town.  I think I hurt her feeling when I replied,

"Mom, I never want to go on that home tour again, ever".

Let me explain.  Usually when you hear the words "home tour" it means touring through some gigantorous new homes with professional decorators and floor coverings and furnishings more expensive than your entire family's life worth put together, and you go to gawk because a. never in your entire existence on this earth will you ever accumulate enough money to be able to afford such things and b. even if you did you'd spend it on things like buying all the starving children in America a Happy Meal, because you're philanthropic like that.  Home tours in Sanpete County, Utah are different.  It's just the homes of regular people, some of who had the idea that decorating for the holidays included tacking up wrapping paper on the walls with a stapler and replacing their regular light bulbs with red and green ones, you know, because it's more festive that way.  Or the other people who were trying to sell their house and put up one measly Christmas tree and took you through the home treating you like you were potential buyers and pointing out square footage and pedestal sinks.  Or the other people who had so many pictures and trinkets and items of clothing and even a chair hung on their walls that one could not even tell what color the walls might be underneath, or if they even existed anymore.  I will say this, I was a wee bit intrigued when my mom said "but the straw house is on the tour this year, it's a house built entirely out of straw and mud and it looks cool!"  Tempting Mother, tempting.  But remember that a house built out of straw and mud didn't do one of the three little pigs any good so what was it going to do for me?  I think I'll pass.

Ah Sanpete, the best part about you is the crazy.

I gotta go blow my chapped nose now for about the billionth time.

Happy Friday