Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

So, the Husbandly One took the van in to our local fix-it place, which we love because things actually get fixed rather than made worse... and no, it wasn't a thrown rod, thank goodness!

Sounded like one, but no...

The serpentine belt had come loose, as well as a second, and a bearing casing had fallen into the wheel well, and the entire pulley structure had just... come completely apart. Thank the gods and little green fishes that I was in the driveway when this happened, and not on the road, least of all with my son in the car with me!

It's all been fixed, which has made us wildly happy because really, guys, we were so not looking forward to a second car note! Not right now!! Of course, it wasn't making us wildly happy finding out how little trade-in value our Kia minivan has, either. The damn thing is only six years old!!

Oh, well, that's been sorted, and today, THO has driven into Houston to help with the monumental Get Mom All Packed Up for the Big Move project. I've already told Mom that she is simply not allowed to have a stroke, heart-attack, or any other catastrophic sort of reaction to moving. She sort of laughed helplessly and said, "Well, Auntie, I don't know if I could stop it!"

And I said, "No. You're not allowed. I forbid it. Don't even think about it."

She ulped and said, "All right!"

*sigh* I know, I know, it's wishful thinking. She's 83, and she's lived in that house for 60 years. She's sunk her roots in deep and it's going to hurt to yank them up. But... she can't live there alone any more. For one thing, the neighborhood is awful. I mean, she has really good neighbors, but... it's not the neighbors that are the problem. It's the gangs of teenage and twenty-somethings who break into people's houses and beat them up while robbing them. It's the loud, drunken parties who like to take guns outside and shoot up at the sky (when they're sober enough to hold their arms up straight) or in whatever direction their fancies take them.

It's not unusual to find spent bullets in the front and backyards of my mom's neighborhood. Or on the street.

Not to mention the things she's done, like forgetting that she's running a tub and finding the bathroom and hall flooding, or leaving a chicken in the oven to burn to a crisp. So, she and the Flaky Sister have bought a house together, and have sold Mom's house, and they are moving to live closer to the Blonde Sister, which will make it much easier for me to come visit, because that means no longer driving through downtown Houston, AND no longer having to visit one of the more toxic parts of Houston just to see my mom.

I hope those of my f-listers currently living in the Deep Freeze part of the U.S. are staying safe and warm, and have heat where they are. And aren't doing a lot of unnecessary heavy lifting (glares pointedly at Alex). And I am hoping to have something much more cheerful to post, because it seems that lately, my posts have been full of teh suck.

And I am hoping to get back into the groove of writing soon. As usual, the hard drive crash of December has sort of knocked me for a loop, writing wise, but I'm still working at it, still trying to get my groove back. And I've been doodling and sketching, to keep myself distracted from the writing that doesn't work. And thank you, dear potion_lady for your comment, but you have to admit, only one comment when you make an art post is discouraging to say the least, and tells one that perhaps the art isn't as good as one hoped, at the most! So, I'll leave it up, but I don't think I'll be posting it anywhere else!

And now, I must call THO and see how things are going at Mom's. Everyone have a good Saturday!

Dear Mr. Morning Fuckwit Radio DJ,

Please to stop ragging on us poor, pathetic, thin-blooded Texans who apparently "freak out" when the thermometer dips below 40. Okay, so you're from Nebraska, where you had to walk ten miles to the bus stop every morning through six feet of snow uphill both ways in a driving blizzard, and then had to walk 25 miles to school because your bus passed you by because they couldn't see you since your pants, coat, and hat were coated with snow and thus you blended into the snowbank that was pile twenty five feet high. I get that. You're a big, tough, macho guy who sneers at forty below zero. Goody for you.

The thing is, Mr. Idiot, it doesn't get cold like that for extended periods here. Blizzards are very rare down here, as are ice storms. We might get one or two a year. We may get snow every couple of years or three. When folks down here buy all-weather tires, it's usually to deal with the flash floods we get in the spring and summer. Not for ice and snow. And no, no one here owns chains for their tires because... we don't get that kind of weather down here long enough to make that practical. So yes, when we get ice storms, or snow, etc... everything shuts down. Not because we are wimps, but because cities out here only buy enough sand for high bridges, not for miles and miles of highway, and we don't have road salt. So, people stay home to stay safe.

Besides, who is it that starts crying and moaning and wailing when the thermometer gets up above 95? Huh? What's that, Mr. Wilting Flower?? Mr. "Oh-my-God-it's-too-hot-to-move?" Mr. "Why did I have to come to work today, it's not even 8 a.m. and it's already 98?" Yeah. You. When it hits the triple digits, us natives drink lots of water and head for the shade while YOU try to go jogging at noon and wonder why you pass out from heat stroke. So... shut the fuck up already.

No love and a bang on the ear,

Auntie

You know what sucks worse than having cold flashes?

Having cold flashes when you're standing outside, it's 34, and the windchill is 25, and you couldn't find your thermal underwear, so you're bundled up as best you can , but you had to give your hat to your son because his ears are the only part of him that are cold, so you're in your jacket, your scarf wrapped around your neck, and your gloves are on your hands... and then you get a cold flash.

We went to see a lighted display in Wimberley, one of those ones you walk through, and it was pretty cool. But I was freezing my butt off, I tell you true! Thank heavens, I found the wool socks I was issued way back when in boot camp, and I think my feet were the warmest part of me!! Most of it was pretty sheltered from the wind, and I was okay, but then... a cold flash hit me.

You know, most women my age get HOT flashes. No, not Auntie. It starts on my back and I start shivering. Then my arms start crawling, and the next thing I know, I'm FREEZING!!

And this is even when I'm sitting in a warm room! So you can imagine what it was like for me last night!

My kids TAUNTED me, I swear. Miss Priss was wearing a light jacket (the same one she wore for Halloween) and a hooded sweater over that. And that's it. She wasn't even wearing socks under her boots!!

And the Impossible Son was wearing a jacket, but... the only real concession to cold that he made was that his ears were cold. So... in a fit of motherly sacrifice... I gave him my hat.

*sigh*

There was a really cool section where a series of pipes of different sizes had been set up for kids to bang on and make music. Mallets had been made with old golf balls on dowels, and the kids had a fine old time making music. There was also a group of different sizes of wooden planks strung up, marimba-style, that were surprisingly musical and in scale, too! And another wall of different sizes of tire rims that made a steel drum sort of sound. It reminded me of how my dad used to make wind chimes out of old bits of metal pipe and tubing he had around the garage and hang them in the back hard with ringers made of nuts, bolts, and bits of wood. They were unexpectedly sweet sounding, and his favorite way of recycling those bits from his projects that he couldn't otherwise use.

Right now, I'm contemplating what gifts I need to finish making (if the kids will let me), which I might take pictures of and show you later. Well... some of them at least. Sweets, I'm afraid you'll be getting your bracelets AFTER Christmas, but you will get them, I promise!

I am also thinking what I housecleaning I need to finish. My mother is coming to stay for a few days after Christmas, which I am looking forward to. It's lonely for her in that house alone, so my sisters and I are trying to be sure to have her come visit as much as possible. However, she's not ready to leave her house yet, and I do completely understand. It's where her memories are, and she and Dad spent most of their married lives in that house. They moved there in 1950 or 1951, I think. They were married for 61 years, which I find all kinds of amazing. So, you could say she's grieving, and she's dealing with it best by staying where her memories are.

I have to say this for my mom. She is not the sort to walk into your house and judge you because it's messy, especially if you have kids. She used to say, "No one ever died from having a messy house. As long as your kitchen and bathroom are clean, what's a few scattered books and toys?" She's also said, "You can have a clean house, or happy kids. You can't have both, unless you're lucky enough to have a maid. In which case, I want to come live with you."

*dimples* See why I love my mom?

She KNOWS... she's BEEN THERE!

Well, I'd better get busy. Soon as I get over my cold flash. Don't worry, the doctor assured me it's my thyroid, and it should improve as we get my dosage adjusted. I'm already doing a lot better energy wise!!

In case I don't get to post again, Merry Christmas, and for my fellow pagans, even though it's already past, Happy Solstice!

You should all feel very, very sorry for the Husbandly One. Very sorry. Why?

Because Auntie is very, very cold!! Tonight was the opening of "Dickens on the Square" in our little town, and it was COLD!! And even though I bundled up, well, I get cold very easily. My hands were frozen despite my nice, warm gloves, and my feet!! Oy, my feet were so cold that every time I took a step it HURT!!

Did I mention this Dickens on the Square thing was outdoors?

There was a lighted parade that I intended to take pictures of but... well, I looked at THO and said, "Look at little me, and look at how packed the people standing along the parade route are. Do you really think I stand a chance of shoving through while hanging on to both kids AND my camera?"

He said, "Actually, I think you're more than capable of it, but... maybe you should just stay here."

We were there as members of the soccer board, selling little soccer oojahs, like key chains, magnets, rings, soccer ball yo-yo's, soccer cows and duckies, you know, little thingums to pop in stockings and so on, all while handing out information about spring registration and giving out registration forms.

And it was cold, did I mention it was cold?

You should feel sorry for THO, because I am STILL cold, even though we got home two hours ago, and I am still shivering, even though I'm in my warm 'jammies, with my hoodie on, and socks and booties on...

When I get into the nice warm bed and snuggle up to my nice, warm, cuddly husband, well, let's just say I think even shocolate will be able to hear his scream. You know, "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH, YOUR FEET ARE LIKE BLOCKS OF ICE, YOUR LEGS.... NO, NO, NO, DON'T PUT YOUR HANDS THERE!!!"

Followed promptly by him inhaling his tongue.

That's it, I am going to learn to knit if it KILLS me! I need warmer socks!!

Okay, it's official. I put the blankets and afghans on the beds. It is COLD!!! I just checked the WeatherBug, which is located at the elementary school just down the street from our house and it's 41 degrees, but with the windchill, it FEELS like it's 22! Okay, so winter is making a foray into Texas. At least THIS year, we are living in a sound, snug house, and not a rattletrap that lets the North Wind poke sly fingers into us from odd corners. Or the house we lived in when we first moved to this area, which had a howling gale blowing literally through the living room every time a front came through, because we didn't realize two walls were separating from the house. Why didn't we realize this? Because a series of shelves that were built into the corner in question were the only things holding the walls together, and you couldn't SEE it, not until the shelves came down.

Right now, the Impossible Son is in the back yard, running around and jumping after leaves swirling over the top of the house with every gust of wind. Auntie can put on her Swami Hat and predict that in ten minutes, he will come in with rosy cheeks and glowing eyes and ask for hot chocolate. He asked me if the Snow Queen will send snow for Christmas. I laughed and said, "You never know, hon. All you can do is close your eyes and make a wish, but you have to realize, if it snows here, we won't be going into Houston to see Grandma and Grand-Daddy."

You know, that just wasn't fair of me. Talk about conflicted! I practically made him go into vapor-lock! Snow? Or the grandparents? Snow? Or the grandparents?

I upped the ante. "And you won't get to see Amanda, either."

Oh, boy.

The Impossible Son is in love with his cousin, Amanda. She's twenty, and just understands EVERYTHING about little boys (his words). And she's just COOL. Because she tickles him, and picks him up and swings him around, turns him upside down, chases him, lays on the floor to color with him, talks about Harry Potter with him, is suitably impressed by his skills with his computer games... what's not to love?

He looked at me sadly, and said, "Mama... I really REALLY want to see 'Manda. And... I really really, REALLY want snow..." He furled his little brows, then said, "Do you think maybe the Snow Queen would wait to make it snow until AFTER we get to Houston?"

All I could do was laugh. "Why not?" It's not a perfect solution, but it shows he's thinking.

Well, as I predicted, here he is, demanding hot chocolate. I just have time to make some before we have to leave to pick up the Impertinent Daughter from running club.

...snow... it could happen...