Roxie and Kleenex

My cocker spaniel. Roxie, eats kleenex. Lots of kleenex. Why her poop isn't white, I will never know.
I read somewhere that dogs are similar to goats in what they can ingest and not be ill.
I have been sick this week with a respiratory infection. you know, the kind where tissues are your best friend and they can't get too far from you?
Have you ever seen a dog so enthusiastic she is drooling right next to you?
She was waiting for me to fall back asleep and loosen up my grip on the tissue I had just used.  Like it was a piece of raw steak.
I moved my small trash receptacle to the top of my nightstand. When I would drift out of sleep. it looked like snow. Yes, she had managed to push it down and have every used tissue spread around the room. Some eaten, some awaiting her. The good thing about illness is you don't care. I looked at the sea of white fluff through my hazy eyes and rolled over back to lala land.She is a kind loving dog, always at my side if I am sad or upset. Always with a wiggling bottom, excited to see me. Grabbing her toys to play. Unless I am blowing my nose or using a tissue while applying makeup. Then she is a sneaky, conniving hound.
She gets about 50% of what I use, through some device of her own. I absently set it down ( while applying make-up) or miss the throw shot.  She will sneak up on the other side of an end table, then pop up and swipe it off, running away like she has performed an act.
I read they like the texture of kleenex. Well, so long as she doesn't get sick, poop white fluff or bring it back up.
 This is her busted. She had the evidence in her mouth. See those innocent eyes?  All my trash receptacles are above the floor. All my tissues are up high, but she will always manage to one.
 Have a great day,
D

Christmas...
  Since my kids no longer are at home, Mr. Wonderful and I have a tradition. We go to a fine dining restaurant and then to church for our beautiful Christmas Eve service at St. Michael's Episcopal Church in Norman. Oklahoma.
On Christmas morning we make breakfast then head back to Norman to serve dinner for the community until 1 PM. The afternoon we spend with our family.

I have said Christmas is just not Christmas if I don't attend church. It's empty. To sing the carols in a dark church, to smell the incense, to celebrate the birth of the Christ Child, to have communion in the evening, to end the service on our knees singing "Silent Night", there is no moment so meaningful on Christmas Eve.

This year we had our family get together on Sunday, as my husband's grandchildren from Texas would be with us. It was a bit strange to be opening presents three days before the big day, but as we get older and your kids go different ways, that sometimes happens.  I knew we had our Christmas tradition and the two days would have that special deep meaning it always had.

Then I got sick. The Sunday the family was coming over I knew I was in trouble as the day started out with the scratchy throat and general feeling of jello in my veins. Through the day and into the evening  I went downhill and felt like I had let down my kids, since most of the time I was curled up in the chair, I thought..I WILL be better tomorrow..I will!!)

I wasn't. Monday we were supposed to take the grandkids back to Arlingtion, a long drive when feeling good. Mr. Wonderful said I was to stay home and take care of myself. I didn't argue. My bed and I were close friends through the day.
Still downhill.

Yesterday was Christmas Eve.  I knew by mid-afternoon our "traditional" Christmas Eve was doomed. When hubby arrived home from work I went into meltdown mode. Really!! I bawled like a baby. I was literally sick to my stomach that I couldn't have dinner or go to church. Poor David. He just wanted to please me. I went from raging tears one moment to "Yes we will go"  only to start to move and the room moved with me. Resignation that dinner would be burgers from Braum's, my social evening would be in my chair, under my blanket watching "It's a Wonderful Life".
When my  husband called the man in charge of the Norman Community Dinner to tell him we would not be able to make our yearly position of serving dinner to 100's of wonderful people who wanted to not  be alone on Christmas Day, I cried again. This was NOT Christmas. I was devastated.

We had gifts to each other under the tree and I could care less. I was miserable, inside and outside.

Then he brings the gifts to me with a smile and says "Honey let's open our gifts"  My pity pot melted away. I had spent all evening feeling wronged because I was sick while my husband just tried to make me feel better.  I thought I was the only one who really cared about Christmas and MY Christmas was ruined.

As we opened our gifts, me sniffling and blowing my nose, him like a little kid enjoying his gifts I knew it was going to be okay.
For weeks I had baked, shopped, wrapped gifts, sent gifts, collected items for two different organizations, sent packages and "felt" the season.   Yes, without a doubt Jesus IS the reason for the season and do not say Happy Holidays to me.  I have had and will continue to have a Merry Christmas. Traditions don't always work out.
Today hubby woke up with a scratchy throat. Not a gift I wanted to give him.
Merry Christmas honey.

It's two weeks until Christmas.  For me it's really one week. The weekend before we will be invaded by two grandchildren, ages 9 and 11, for three days. Then the drive back to Texas, work Christmas Eve and then it is here.
We will celebrate over the weekend. Transiberian Orchestra will be our big night Saturday, preceded by enjoying all the wonders of our downtown area, weather permitting. Outdoor skating, which the grandkids from Texas have never done, I don't plan on doing, but hope they will have the time of their lives. I'm the picture taker.
They will arrive Friday evening, Mr. Wonderful will go get them while I work, and Saturday morning will be the first time in many may years we have awaken with children and gifts under the tree.

I am excited. I have said for many years that Christmas is not about children. It's not. I dearly love the Advent season, when we prepare for the coming of the baby Jesus.  I am aware that is not his exact birthday, no one really knows, but isn't it wonderful to have a time to celebrate?
The wisemen came many weeks later but we cram it all into on day.

I've given up trying to explain to the masses that Christmas actually starts at midnight on December 24th and goes for 12 days. I've told them that if you attend my church the Sunday after the official holiday we are still celebrating and singing carols.  I'm usually looked at with eyes full of humor or total confusion and I change the subject back to the craziness of getting everything ready for the 25th.

I do the same thing. I wish I could for one year not put my tree up until the 24th. Look at the wonder of the magic of Christmas as it should be. I can barely make it past Thanksgiving.
I love the lights and the mystical feeling of the lit tree in my house when all the other lights are off.

When my children were young I would never turn the lights off at night. Awakening before the children got up, I'd come to the living room and sit with just the tree on, thinking about the season and how wonderful it can be.

As for the grandchildren coming to spend a few days with us, it will be fun again to have that excitement in the house as they get to celebrate the "first" Christmas for them. We usually have them after the big day when they are like  "where's the presents..Oh I already for that"
This year we tried to make sure our gifts are what no one else has bought. We will spend a day baking cookings and celebrate the season.   We will be ready for them to go home on Monday and then quiet back down for round two.
The only time I live better than Christmas is Holy Week before Easter. I gave up trying to explain that Good Friday is not just a day off work, but that's another post.

Have a blessed day as you enjoy the magic of the anticipation of Jesus being born unto the world.
Debi