Say My Name!

This weekend was a batten down the hatches, Pa, it's a blizzard kind of weekend. We had tons of snow and since the winter tires are scheduled to be put on my van next weekend, I was pretty much trapped in the house. It had its upsides, of course, being that I pretty much spent all day Saturday cooking and washing dishes (hmmm...upside?) and all morning Sunday cleaning things, festively ordering holiday cards, doing online Christmas shopping, and creating calendars to give to the grandparents. I know that for a lot of people November is a very unpopular month, but I love it. It's kind of cozy and has that nice pre-festive feeling to it.

To be honest, I'm glad that there was a ton of snow for another reason: death to all the moths. On Friday I was curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and a copy of Sense and Sensibility, when my husband brought the mail in. He picked up one of the magazines, and OUT FLEW A MOTH! I screamed and screamed, such that the dog scurried into his crate in terror and the boys came running upstairs to see who was ax-murdering their mother. The moth landed on a picture, and I screamed hysterically until my husband unceremoniously squished it. BRING ON THE SNOW, I SAY. I had to drink another three glasses of wine just to settle my nerves.

Fortunately the blizzard held off until after Halloween. I was pretty excited to have a very small Dalmatian darken my doorstep at 6:20, but mostly I just sat on the couch, bored, eating Rockets and staring at the dog. I had a grand total of seven trick-or-treaters, two of which gasped when I opened the door and exclaimed in awed tones It's the book fair lady! I felt kind of Heisenberg-y. Say my name! You're the book fair lady. You're goddamn right.

But even with my book fair celebrity, we still had a ton of candy left over and the kids brought a ton of candy home, and so we are now a candy-full house. My sweet neighbour brought over some full sized chocolate bars and apologies for not being home; I forced Rockets on her. She tried to protest but I am indefatigable when it comes to forcing food on other people. I'm practicing for my future role as everyone's benevolent grandmother. EAT, EAT. YOU ARE TOO SKINNY, EAT.

Speaking of grandmas, I made my grandma's amazing, kind-of-like-crack gingersnaps this weekend. I only make them once a year, possibly because they are irresistable. They are a festive, wintry kind of cookie that I don't seem to be able to bake during the summer. It's not just the cookies and the snow that have got me feeling all Christmassy. I'm feeling especially festive since I am - wait for it - ALL DONE my Christmas shopping! I'm the goddamn book fair lady! Thanks to the miracle of online shopping plus a caffeine fueled 90 minutes at the mall this morning, I am FINISHED. My motivation for finishing early is the mall. Oh, how I loathe the mall during the holiday season. The thought of last minute shopping, or even December shopping, is enough to ruin my festive, happy feelings. The parking lot, for one thing, is the asphalt jungle of bitterness and resentment: sitting in traffic waiting for 20 minutes to turn into the parking lot, plus circling said parking lot just to find a spot, PLUS dealing with much rage and anger from other drivers all competing for the same spot. Not to mention the dry air of the mall which is chronically overheated from all the bad moods and outrage about long lineups. Shopping in November is just so much easier. While everyone else is stabbing each other over the last box of Godiva Holiday Truffles or the Hug Me Elmos (did you know Hug Me Elmo is a thing? Eeek.) I will be snuggled up on the couch with a big glass of wine, my copy of When Harry Met Sally, and a whole pile of endless Halloween candy.