The dust bunnies under the couch are laughing at me. I make a half-hearted attempt to murder them, once a week or so. I don't want to commit to moving furniture around to get to them, so they live to see another day. My husband strows leaves and dried mud all over the house with his workboots. They take up residence in the corners, behind the plants and the piano. I hired a lady to help me. She was sweating and working for hours, but said I definitely needed a second day. Those bunnies wore her out.
On Halloween, Ken always takes me out for dinner and we wait until any possible trick-or-treaters have given up and gone to bed. Our house is left dark and scary, just in case somebody takes a notion to ring the ancient doorbell. But Halloween is my cue this year...yes, it's true...I'm getting all the Christmas decorations out as soon as the last costume is put away. I don't go for fall decor. Too much trouble and then you've got to take it all down. Christmas is bad enough, so I figure just go all out and put it up right after All Hallow's Eve (or Reformation Day, in our family), then you've got two whole months to enjoy it. Check it out...Martin Luther started all that Protestant hoopla on the same day as the devil's high holiday. Makes perfect sense to me. He nailed the 95 Theses to the Wittenburg door on Halloween and bipped Satan in the nose all at the same time.
This year is different. My sweet Victorian is on the 2018 Villa Rica Tour of Homes, so I have to get my game face on. I'm planning on four trees, have already bought extra ornaments, and I'm dreaming heavily about the swag that I'm going to put on the front door. I also have my job to do, grandbabies to keep, Christmas gifts to buy and girlfriends to have coffee with. And then there's always the laundry. I'm booked solid from now to New Year's, so don't come knocking unless you want to clean or paint something. Dust bunnies, be afraid. Be very afraid.
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