Hi, B.

Sorry about yesterday. S and I went to Marshall's, her favorite store on earth, and a place I very rarely visit. I didn't get the water goblets (I loved your text!) but did get a pretty fall table runner ($9) an impromptu gift for K (Antipasti cookbook - $2.99) six candles for the mantle ($8) and a totally cool Christmas box thing that I intend to fill with ??? and put in the bathroom ($6.99). Much more practical than the goblets, considering my cabinet full of Waterford, and I felt like I had a basketload of goodies for the same $27!

We ended up at the nursery and I got a bunch of winter plants on my gift certificate.

~~

Sidenote on customer service here. This particular nursery is one of those totally overpriced, snooty places with a tea shop and a photo studio; it's very popular for weddings, etc. And it truly is beautiful; we had C's graduation pictures done there. Anyway, I had this G.C. I think I might have told you, that was five years old. Our wine club had given it to us when J's dad died and I just happened to come across it in a drawer recently. I was afraid to try to use it, even though it had no expiration date. I was just sure that there would be some problem, what with how weird most places are about giftcards anymore. But I got in there and the woman at the counter never once questioned it. She looked at it and smiled, said "Wow, this is an old one! Cindy! Look at this! Do you remember when we had these?" They chuckled, rang up my plants, and I was on my way. I was delighted! As J& I always say, "Now that's customer service."

Since it's supposed to rain the rest of the week, I wanted to get them in the ground, but was running very short on daylight by the time we got home. I didn't finish, but will try this morning before it gets ugly.

CK came over during the planting (which is probably why I didn't finish) to update us on the M car wreck saga - I can't even be bothered to go into details. K called her to "verify" that we hadn't gone out to get M at the wreck...told her he was "so disappointed in our behavior"...oh God, whatever! I'm not the custodial parent who was in Chicago.

Anyway, we rushed to get dinner before football practice, at which point I was kind of feeling the meltdown of the earlier conversation. I begged out of practice, poured myself a glass of my new favorite wine - yes, Basket Case Syrah - it rocks, and screwtop at that. I lit the gazillion candles around my house (since we're approaching the holidays, they're all coming out), turned on the "Relax" playlist on my iPod dock really loud, and sat back on the couch for my free hour and a half. And I remembered what my friend, B, said when I was sick and complaining that no one pampered me: "Don't forget to pamper yourself. Even when you're not sick."

Soooooo...there's my litany of excuses as to why I never called you back. I do apologize, but the day kind of got away from me. When the boys left, and I had my free time, it was already 7 and I was pretty sure you would be in bed. I thought about writing, but what I really wanted to do was to empty my brain, not sift through it. It was the perfect answer to my increasing stress, faced with the possibility of picking up the phone and continuing to rant and rave to CK, as if I hadn't done enough of it already in the driveway. I wish that effin' a**h*** would get out of my life, my neighborhood and my friendships. (Hope I didn't just get us an R rating on our blog. You should have heard me out in the driveway. I had steam coming out my ears, I'm sure.)

My folks are coming tomorrow so I'm tidying up around here a little today. Nail appointment at ten, then grocery shopping, allergy shots, the usual. Without going into a rant about CC and her neurotic fear of my parents, I will say that we are having everyone over here for dinner tomorrow night. Thank God J is not a stinge, and that he can tolerate just about anyone. What would I do if I were married to someone who didn't put up with my dysfunctional family?!

Gotta get A to the bus stop and head out. Hope to hear from you later!

Love, A