tis the season . . .

having braved the crowds at publix, tom is now tucked in my fridge ready for thursday along with all the usual suspects.  i just need to send kidlet into the lion's den on wednesday for the pumpkin pie and then to honey baked ham for piglet.  dinner is on!!!!

i long ago realized that i have to pace myself for the holidays.  no way can i cook and clean and then appear in some semblance of order in time to feed the hungry hoards if i try to get it all done on thursday.  there is not enough wine and ativan to make that work. ever.

and so i will start tomorrow and clean upstairs.  my version that is . . .  a lick and a promise and some bab-o.

tuesday i'll hit the downstairs with the exception of the kitchen floor because as soon as i clean it, something will hop off the stove or pole vault out of the fridge and do a smash and splatter all over it.

wednesday i'll start the food prep making brownies, deviled eggs and the like.

thursday morning tom gets stuffed in the oven, all hell breaks loose, the floor gets scrubbed and i get tipsy.

friday i collapse in a heap of left over comfort food all smothered in home-made gravy . . . luckily, kidlet has not discovered the attributes of stuffing and leaves it all for me . . . the turkey liver too.  slurp.  silly child.