Christmas Tree

We cut down a Christmas tree last Sunday afternoon.  I'm not a big fan of real trees in the house. 

Scratch that, I'm not a big fan of pasture-cut cedar trees in the house.  I have a friend that lives in town and she has a lovely, real tree that she purchased from the grocery store parking lot and I think it's gorgeous.  My frugal nature keeps me from purchasing one of these, however. 

We have a hand-me-down artificial tree from Wesley's mother and it looks just fine, but for some reason I had a moment of weakness and told Wesley it might be fun to have a real tree this year.  (Actually, it was more like I was trying to suck up just a little after the whole go-to-your-aunt's-for-Thanksgiving-and-come-home-with-free-furniture thing.) 

So last Sunday afternoon we loaded up two pickups full of friends and drove around in pastures and CRP fields trying to find the perfect Christmas tree.  I was totally prepared, too.  I measured the designated area in our home where the beloved tree was going to be placed and I decided that we could comfortably fit a tree approximately 36" wide in our designated area.  I even took a tape measurer with me to the pasture.  Apparently, though, in the heat of the chase we may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten to actually utilize the tape measurer when we were out and about.

Wanna know how big our Christmas tree is?

8 foot x 8 foot x 8 foot. 

That's right, we live in a 1,000 square foot house and we have a 850 square foot tree (approximately).  We had a bit of trouble with the tree tipping over when we tried to stand it up inside the house.  Once, as it was falling over, I dove to grab the tree and our friend Cody dove to jerk his three year old daughter out of harm's way.  We finally wedged the top against the ceiling and it helped our balance situation out tremendously.  Needless to say, there is no angel or star tree-topper this year. 

Not only is the top wedged against the ceiling, we placed the tree in front of our south door.  We can live without using it for three weeks or so.  Wesley and the other men used baling twine to tie the top, middle, and base to the door hinges and door handle for some extra security and stability.  You know us, safety first. 

We also had to move a dresser from its normal location and the loveseat has been temporarity moved to the middle of the living room.  Minor details. 

I feel like we are turning in to the Griswalds.  If you hear me call Wesley, 'Sparky' please help me snap out of it. 

I wasn't lying!

Remember a few weeks ago when I stated that Wesley did not possess the ability to shut off the work-related, common sense part of his brain?  I promise, I was not lying.

One night last week the girls barked up a terrible storm.  I was already having a sleepless night and knew that my opening the window and hollering at them to quiet down would do little to actually change the situation.  So..... I pulled the 'wife card.'

I nudged Wesley to wake him up so he could get up and yell at them.  My first nudge did not succeed in rousing him, so I tried it again.

"Wes, can you get up and yell at the girls for me?" I whispered.

"WOMAN, HUSH UP! SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE."

"Honey, what are you doing?  Can you get up and yell at the girls for me?"

"DAMMIT WOMAN, YOU NEED TO HUSH UP WHEN I'M COUNTING!  NINE BULLS OUT - GEEZ!"



It was about that point in our 'conversation' that I realized one of us was still in a really, really deep sleep.  Like I said, the man's brain just never shuts off.  And for the record, there really weren't any bulls out.  He checked the next morning when I relayed the story to him. 

A little funny for Friday

I honestly don't know why it tickles me so much, but this is just one of those things that I have to share.  My apologies. 

I have written previously about how folks don't like to give out more than four digits when providing their phone number and how odd our little radio station is at times.  This morning it seemed like every little quirky oddity (as opposed to a normal oddity) was rolled all up into one. 

A man called in this morning to the radio station.  "I've got a Ford tractor and two llamas for sale.  4992."  (Seriously.  I didn't make any of that up.)

And my absolute favorite was the caller who had the rattlesnake/skunk incident several months back.  "Yup, Skunk-man here....." 

I don't even remember what Skunk-man was calling about.  I was tuned out, giggling uncontrollably and trying to stay on the road.  Happy Friday, folks. 

Spelling games

Have you ever noticed that when long lost buddies get together they revert back to "that age?"  You know, the age of their good 'ol glory days.  You think that it's just my husband that has this odd affliction?  I beg to differ.

Friends of ours came to visit a few weekends ago and I spent the rest of the evening babysitting and catering to what felt like three 16 year old boys.  Well, 16 year old boys that happen to be drinking whiskey. 

They played for HOURS in the shop with a basketball, shooting hoops from ridiculous angles and giggling like..... well, a bunch of 16 year old boys.  They played H-O-R-S-E, P-I-G, and I think someone mentioned playing a really long spelling game like E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T but I don't think anyone really had the attention span for such a long word by that time of the evening. 

Contrary to what one might believe, I love nights like these. 

Touche

Every once in a while Wesley has a very valid point and knocks me down a rung or two on my ladder.  It is very well known that my frugal nature makes me have a tendency to hoard others' discarded items and redo them.  Painting, refinishing, new hardware - I love to do it all. 

Thanksgiving weekend was especially fruitful for me as I got an "heirloom" rocking chair from an aunt and a cabinet that will soon become our bedside table.  I say "heirloom" because we may or may not have told that to Wesley to increase my chances of getting to take it home.  Whoopsidaisies.  And no, he never reads what I write on here, thank goodness. 

As I pulled in to the shop on Sunday morning with my lovely new-to-me cabinet, Wesley was strangely silent.  I did my best to defend myself. 

"Honey, just think how much money we save when I redo all this furniture myself." 

His reply?

"I'm just worried about the day that we're going to have to build a $100,000 house to store your $10 finds in." 

Damn.  I hate it when he's right. 

Queen of Frugal, Meet Captain Obvious - King of Common Sense

I did something brilliant.  Absolutely genius.  Stunning.  Magnificent.  I combined my love of photography and frugalness (frugality, frugaling) into one lovely gift for my husband. 

Our bedroom has needed decorating ever since we moved in.  Not that Wesley was complaining, mind you, but I thought that a nice photo from our place would be a welcome addition. 

For weeks I scanned the internet ads and Sunday paper coupons, waiting for the perfect opportunity.  Lo and behold, one day I finally found it - Free 8x10 enlargements for a limited time only!  I pounced upon the opportunity and sent my photo off to become even huger wonderfulness, beyond the basic 4x6 greatness that it already was!  (Yes, the English language is too much for me to master today.) 

It took another month after getting the picture back that I finally made it to a big town with a Hobby Lobby.  I hit them up with a 50% frame sale, used a 40% coupon on the mat and patiently waited another month for my picture to finally be complete. 

I brought the photo home and showed it to Wesley, so excited that I could barely hold it steady for him to admire. 

"Hmph.  Well this is just depressing.  Look how high the water level in the pond used to be.  This sucks." 

The wind rushed out of my sails and my ego popped, all in one foul swoop.  I know that he didn't mean to be unkind, its just that he can't shut off the part of his brain that is constantly at work and turn on the one that allows him to simply admire things at face value..... kind of like how I can't shut off the part of my brain that wonders if I can find a better deal for something by using double reward points with store X or double coupons at store Y. 

We are cursed. 

Only in Greenwood County

As I pulled out the drive on Sunday afternoon I saw a snowflake hit my windshield and I thought "Only in Greenwood County would anyone be golfing on a day like today." 

As I pulled into the golf course parking lot and saw the overflow of vehicles I shook my head.

As I watched my husband and his friends play bumper cars with the golf carts I covered my face.

As I watched the awards being handed out in the clubhouse later that afternoon I noticed that all the winning teams donated their prize money back to the cause we were there to support and I was touched.  

Later that night, as the crowd made their way into the community building, there was a bountiful buffet provided for all the hungry souls.  Free of charge.  I was starving and I was moved. 

There was a raffle for several items that night and time after time people would win really nice prizes, only to donate them back and ask that they be auctioned off to raise more money.  I was teary-eyed. 

There were also a ton of designated auction items and the same thing happened with them time and again, auctioning and re-auctioning them.  I was floored. 

The family that we were there to raise money for stood up to speak and I, along with everyone in that room, was an absolute wreck. 

Only in Greenwood County.