The Party's Over

I pulled a piece of candy cane off of the dog’s leg yesterday and My Guy and I both have roaring colds.

It’s official – Christmas is over.

First came the Gs - 

Gifts, Grandchildren (two more this year!), and Germs:  The new twins were the party accessory of the year, with every grandson (16, 14, and 9) vying  for the chance to hold and feed them, and the little girls charmed the room with barely a meltdown. The gift that kept on giving was the head cold that I’m sure will continue well into the New Year.

Next stage –

Laundry and Leftovers:  I began sheets, towels, and tablecloths in the evening and continued into the afternoon of the next day, but miraculously everything is clean, folded, and back in the closets. The guest beds have their spreads back on, blankets are back in the chest, pillows for 7 extra heads stuffed back on shelves, and 1 and ½ pairs of socks were retrieved from under the beds, along with assorted Legos that had wandered off.  

Unfortunately for those of us who remained behind, two half-pies were also left, as were half a stollen, a jar of Christmas cookies, two servings of lobster mac and cheese, and the less-dangerous eggplant parm. I’ve decided to ignore my bathroom scale for a day in the future when I’m strong enough to find out the ugly truth.

Now we’re into Purging and Packing –

We leave for 4 months in Florida in a matter of days, and the fridge still has enough cheese in it to make the manufacturers of Simvistatin dance a jig.

Deciding what can sit for that long (relish, mustard, jams), what should be thrown out (e.g. that jar of Kalamata olives), and what can be toted for two days in the car, takes thought. The fact that something sticky tipped over at some point and drooled all down the inside of the fridge doesn’t make the job any easier.

          Packing should be fairly simple, since we leave a lot in Florida, but there are still laptops –with power sources, phones – with chargers, dog stuff – heartworm meds, flea repellant, and documents to do the taxes while we’re there. Plus, keys to the house watcher, and messages to neighbors to please not call the cops on the house watcher.

          The piles in the living are growing faster than prairie dog mounds during breeding season.