Month: December 2016

To see a roof in your dream symbolizes a barrier between two states of consciousness. You are protecting or sheltering your consciousness, mentality, and beliefs. The dream provides an overview of how you see yourself and who you think you are.

To dream that the roof is leaking represents distractions, annoyances, and unwanted influences in your life. New information is slowly revealing itself to you. Something is finally getting through to you. Alternatively, the dream means that someone is imposing and intruding their thoughts and opinions on you.

Dream Moods

Got errands done today: brought the duplicate coffeemaker to UPS; picked up paint for the kitchen and hallway and touched up the slider wall so Ron could mount the new utensil rack (it is gorgeous); got some good deals at Job Lot; picked up a prescription for Ron and a couple other items at Stop & Shop; wrote a recommendation letter for Julia; drove Robert to and from work.

It started snowing around the time I left the house to get Robert.  I saw what looked like a possible collision at South Sandwich Road and 130 on the way back from Edgewater.  I was happy to have done the Stosh run before meeting Robert, and very happy to get home in one piece.  Also relieved to have cancelled a donation scheduled for tomorrow morning that would have required putting everything out tonight.

Ron made an addictive pasta sauce with onion, garlic, herbs, ground turkey, tomatoes, chick peas and Pariah Dog Farm chard.

We got a working timer set up for the tree: finally!

We went to Cathy’s for Christmas brunch with Cindy.  They gave us splendid gifts: candy, gift certificates and a great coffee mug with disappearing text of the Bill of Rights.  Afterwards, we picked up some produce at Pariah Dog.

I picked up a really nice free Christmas tree yesterday.  We brought it in this morning in between showers.  Ron trimmed the bottom and got it to stand straight.  I put on lights and started hanging ornaments.

It rained a good part of the day.  I got caught in it doing a transfer station run.  Warm, though, I was almost comfortable in shirt sleeves.  Kitty was here, sleeping, so Ron stayed put.

We did laundry and changed sheets, as usual.  Simple supper, sandwiches and soup.  Also, cannoli from my Route 6A run yesterday after picking up Finnish bread at exit 6.

First snow, pretty at 8, then it started raining around 9.

Shoveled out the vehicles without Ron; his boots no longer fit and he claims our snowblower needs work before he can use it.  He was able to drive the van to work.

Peter texted, their snowblower works great.  Props to Paul at the Heights for getting it done so fast!

I grilled burgers and got lit on Drambuie and egg nog last night.  After a few visits to the throne room, though, felt good enough to get the kitchen cleaned up and make coffee.  Irritated with myself for such a stupid waste!

Since ankle surgery, I’ve been doing just enough to get by and not a whole lot more.

Like cleaning when it’s only absolutely necessary; laundry and dishes, but only reluctantly. Cooking maybe half the time and punting the rest with leftovers or even cheese and crackers instead of actual food. Dragging out yard cleanup. Worst of all, coding and studying, hardly at all.

I’ve been so frustrated and worn out with hoses that I finally ordered a 300 foot holder/cart, with a big handle and wheels. It’s a splurge, but getting a great price with free shipping was a push.

I did laundry today and little else, so figured to redeem myself by baking bread from a gluten-free mix. It was a disaster in the bread machine, never mixed, so I stirred it by hand. It should be out of the oven in about a half hour*.

I did put Agribon on the purple hydrangea in preparation for the arrival of the Polar Vortex and temps in the teens at midnight. Checked out mortgage rates for rental properties and visited the Pantry yesterday.

Took an online test. I am not a narcissist (scored lower than the average American).

The surgical wound hurt more than usual this week.

*Turned out well.

Elementary, my dear.

“It’s become my regular reminder that the women of this world are constantly fighting against a hatred that men do not see.”

The Washington Post’s pop music critic Chris Richards

Having promised to do this for a while once a) I could walk well enough and b) the weather was decent, I decided to check out Smokey’s route today.

He started in the back yard near the whirl-a-gig and walked about halfway around the oval, ran back to our deck, walked around the front of our house, went through the “woods” to Bakers’ back yard where he found something of interest, then walked in front of their house to their front steps.

He sunned himself on the stairs for a few minutes, then took off when he heard the mail truck. He sat under Joe’s truck for a short time, then ran home when he heard his name called.

This route involved crossing two streets, but he seems pretty vehicle-savvy.

I did a run to the Pantry this morning, late, and mowed the front and back yards, to pick up leaves. Not many leaves, but boy, were they spread out.

“Chicken pot pie” with stuffing for crust, broccoli and gravy for supper.

Watched “Sicario”. Benicio DelToro as “the revenge guy” didn’t win an Oscar but probably deserved to.

I hate this time of year.

As if the constant “Buy Buy Buy” from retailers weren’t enough, we are also beseiged with requests by phone, mail and email from charities and local do-gooders, pitching for everything from farm animals to military families.

Add bad memories, like family get-togethers and office parties. Unapologetically unhealthy cookie recipes. Holiday concerts and house tours, all carrying hefty price tags. Tales of woe about homeless families, despondent refugees, victims of crime. There was even a heartbreaker about a 5 year old boy who died, literally, in the embrace of a Santa-imposter.

Ho Ho Ho.

Our oldest grandson is right, it’s the fake cheer that gets you, especially this year when the federal government has been taken over with the help of people whose consciousness and consciences have taken leave.

You got it, Scrooge.