Spirit, spoons and shortness

The day after Christmas last year, I bought 150 plastic ornaments with the intention of decorating the two evergreens outside my breezeway.  This year, I dawdled and procrastinated until December 21, when I finally bought ornament hangers and got out in cold and damp and decorated.

I ran out of spoons before I ran out of ornaments, and I knew that climbing up on a ladder at that point was A Bad Idea, so I put everything away.  I took today off work, so this morning after a quick grocery run, I got the ladder out.

Guess what?  Even with a 7-foot ladder, I'm too short to reach the top of the taller tree.  I've got blisters because I'm allergic to evergreens, sore shoulders from reaching over my head, and the decorations aren't quite perfect, but I'm still pleased.

I decorated something for Christmas for probably the first time in seven or eight years!

The year is ending nicely

Well, mostly.  I think I've burned out on Bubbles & Baubles, but at lease what may be my last post there is one that makes me happy.  I enjoyed making up the polish bags, and I'm pleased to have gotten rid of a tiny portion of my ridiculous polish stash.

The probate court has adopted a family for Christmas, and I got to go shopping for a 4 year-old girl.  I found some pants, a cute sweater and a Minnie Mouse sweatshirt and pants set, and then found the winter coat I've been wanting for two years.  Instant karma!

The courthouse café sends postcard with a coupon every month to the folks on their mailing list, and for December, my coupon was buy one sandwich get one free.  Instead of tossing it, I took it down when I bought my lunch on Thursday, and told the cashier to use the free sandwich for the next person to get one.  That happened as I was waiting for my sandwich, and it turns out that I bought lunch for one of the domestic court judges. :-)  Then I went out and bought a couch from a local business. :-D

Yesterday wasn't very pleasant, because instead of doing my work, I was docketing extensions filed by idiots who didn't get their filings done in time and don't want to be cited.  But we got raises for next year, and the day eventually ended.

Today I was at Mom's, aka the second job, and in addition to my usual boring paperwork, I got to make gingerbread cookies and cut out ninja shapes for my nephew to decorate.  I even figured out how to work the convection oven by myself!

My brother, sister-in-law and nephews will be here for Christmas, I have the 23rd through the 25th off and the last of my presents are scheduled to arrive on Monday.  The house is warm, the dog is getting fat, and all is well.

Love to all of you who took the time to read this--you're what Vio calls "Friends as Family" and you're a big part of why I'm content.

Snobservations from a VERY long week

Before I start snobserving, if you don't follow me on Google Plus, you might not know that my boss was on the front page of the paper on Thursday, or that my workplace will be featured in a documentary.

That leads me to my first snobservation, that it used to be 15 minutes of fame.  Now, apparently, at least for buildings, it's only 6 minutes. :-(

It was a very long week, in part because Tuesday was Call Day, in which m colleagues and I are frantically busy but don't actually get a ton of work done, and partly because of the looming departure of one of said co-workers.

To the attorney who was upset with me for sending back an insufficiently documented Inventory, I say, "Mister, you can tell me that house is worth a cow and a sackful of magic beans, but if it's not in writing, I can't docket it."

To all of the attorneys who say that's not how they do it in [insert name of other county here], I say, "That's how we do it here, and that's why you should read the damn local rules before you try to file in a new-to-you county."

To the attorneys who ask about the rules of service and wonder when we started doing that, I say, "It's been almost a year, and you should read the damn local rules before you try to file in a court where you haven't practiced in a year."

To paralegals who call me asking how to do something, I say, "Ask your boss, she's the lawyer!"

And to the snooty-ass OSBA-certified paralegal who types things like, "Your welcome" I say, "My welcome says you need to brush up on your basic grammar."

Hmmm

My city has decided to go with fabric recycling.  On the one hand, I am delighted to have an outlet for the pillows which are too manky to give to Goodwill, along with single socks and bras which have quit fighting the good fight.  On the other hand, it's a for-profit company called Simple Recycling doing this, and I don't know how many of my fellow citizens will go to their website and read the details.  

I hope that some, if not all, will, and that Goodwill, the Salvation Army and other charitable organizations will not be hurt.  I know that the scam drop-boxes have cut into donations to those same organizations.  And yes, the drop-boxes for used clothing are almost completely for-profit despite the misleading labeling. 

The one that ticks me off the most, of course, is the book "recycling" boxes.  When I saw a box in the local shopping center, I almost plowed into it with the car when I recognized the name of an online "store" from which I had purchased used books.  I still have not completely discarded the idea of tacking up a sign reading "THESE PEOPLE SELL BOOKS.  YOU'RE NOT DONATING TO ANYTHING BUT THEIR BOTTOM LINE."

I guess in regard to the fabrics, I will give the city the aforementioned manky pillows and donate clothes to Goodwill, but if you're reading this, please, please investigate before you give anything to anyone.  These days, almost anything can be turned for a profit, and that's fine if you know that's what's going to happen.  If that's not what you want, find a reputable charity which will take it.

A matter of taste

So yes, after at least five years of wanting to, this was the year I did this:

When the kits to turn your car into a reindeer first came out, they were at least $30 or so, and I passed.  But last Saturday I was at a local discount store and found this particular set for $3, so of course I grabbed it!

So I posted a picture on G+, and my buddy Rob commented to the effect that he thought I had better taste than to do this.*

Guess what, Rob?  I don't have better taste, I just have iron control over my terrible taste.  The louder, flashier, shinier, gaudier and more ridiculous it is, the better I like it.  But since I'm not going to get very far at work looking like a drag queen exploded in my closet, I pull back.

Way back.

And because I don't have the budget to light up a ghastly fantasy of outdoor lighting in garish colors every year, I skip it.

But the truth is that I have terrible, terrible taste, and for now, antlers on my car.

*The sister of my heart, the lovely Vio, commented that I needed a speaker which played "Gramma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" as I drove.