Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Transitioning & Big Foot's Tendencies

Isn't it amazing how the red and green plaid towel hanging in the bathroom can go from the everyday



Christmas Pine Green

and Rudolph's Sleigh Red ?

No more ordinary, but extraordinary simply by my mind frame.
Paired with my best fluffy green and...

They have looked festive all year actually, and somewhat out of place, Years ago I decided to use them. Since they were such nice towels I wanted to just look at them! Why use them only ONE month out of the year, right?
And the others did need replacing.

And have you ever been in love with but afraid of a color?
My secret towel is purple.
Why can I NOT commit to this?

Am I afraid of it in the laundry room? Somehow them bleeding  in with my whites?
Will  towel therapist please enter the conversation??

And the year round tree, in the corner of J's room- was  moved into the family room, its branches straightened, Skyline helmet taken off the top. In its place was a beaver cap and doilies snowflakes decorated its branches, while adorable Grizzly Bears drinking hot cocoa or something their hands can hold onto like

a red cardinal.

J. needed some help in lowering gears as to his lawn mowing; extra motivation and teaching packed into this last bit of summer that I hope carries over into next year.
The transition?

Dusting and vacuuming. Trying to help him see the advantages of spraying the chemical on the rag, removing the the little treasures and THEN wiping is still something we are working on.
He fixed a part on the vacuum and felt pretty proud of himself and so this is how we go... in the mom department. I pray that I am teaching him all he needs to know. So if he cleans hotels, wulp he'll be really efficient and fast.
The latest big transition is we are back on Remicaid. I don't even know if I spell it right. I have been on it for three years at one time and i still don't check if I spell it right. You see, I am in denial with this transition; being back on the mouse protein.
Yes, mouse.

The brought in a fire truck and doused me with some prednisone so mmy body wouldn't reject it and that felt like, well, be hit by a fire truck full of prednisone. Not good.
So often I wonder if I am doing the right thing. If this is claming inflammation down, then yes. If not, then no.
But how do we know that until awhile has passed and I start to do mouse-like things?
So here's the deal:
 Christmas starts NOW.
Padre needs to get on the stick and get those Christmas LIghts up, pronto.
And I need a pine swag to go over my mail box!
Okay, I have to be done because I just put in the picture of the mouse above, and his name is Tikus.

I don't have time elaborate about Big Foot.
Let's just say J isvvverrry interested in him and his whereabout, habits, and boffies.

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