Happy VD, Indeed.

There's something almost refreshing about being around people who don't celebrate holidays on the holidays. I'm not so great with small-talk, I think, and this way, I don't have to bring it up at all, pretend that I really want to hear about their romantic plans with their spouse. Especially when my plans were: go to work if weather is not too bad (it wasn't), go to other work if weather is not too bad (it wasn't either), text family members and mope about it being VD with nothing to do, watch bad reality TV, take a bath, go to bed.

I've got presents to hand out, but I have to wait until I've got some money to spend on getting them where they need to go. It might be a while.

Tradition

Last year, my cousin and I got together and made Valentine's gifts for friends and family. It was the start of the tradition, so it makes sense that not everything turned out exactly as we'd envisioned.

My idea was a serving or two of homemade hot chocolate mix. The mix itself was just OK. Most people weren't prepared for the chili powder that gave it a more adult kick. The kids especially were less than thrilled. It maybe should have went out with instructions? I don't know. A friend of mine called it "brown drink" which, while more than accurate, still stung. I was determined to find something that wouldn't suck this year.

Enter the homemade instant chai mix. I got the recipe here and there are a few to choose from, all pretty similar. I loaded it up with spices and (this part is key) tried it ahead of time. Also, I let other people try it ahead of time. I find that a lot of the time when I'm excited about a recipe or craft or what-have-you, I am capable of completely blinding myself to any bad points it might have. (And yet, at other times, I totally can't tell how awesome something I make myself is, either.) Anyway, people seemed to find it appealing, even went so far as to compliment it. Nobody called it "brown drink". So it's a go.

Next year, I'm thinking about making a homemade powdered cappuccino mix? Single-serving warm drinks still seems to be a good idea. Mid-winter, who doesn't need a little cup of warmth wrapped up in a heart-spattered package?

Especially when it comes with fudge. Yeah, that's my cousin's contribution.

Day 27

Most of my kitchen is now sitting in a storage facility in town. There it will remain until I'm ready to use it again, whenever that may be. The shed is only 10x10, so we'll see how much we can wedge in there. Hopefully, we won't have to use any of the Lake's garage, because the less explaining to do, the better.

I was not the talk of the Thanksgiving table, as I had feared. But we also didn't have our full Kiddie Table set up, and Mom joined us instead. As I whispered to Robby as she sat down, "Having a mom here totally negates the whole Kiddie Table magic." Then I spent enough of supper looking longingly at our missing member to get a kick under the table for being obvious.

Soon, the cats will move. Then goes the dog, and then goes me. Hopefully we get the rest of my stuff, as well.

G-B-C-B

This is the longest week in history. Next week will be the shortest, and the the week after that will be cruel, because it will beat this weeks record for longest week ever. I'm skipping right past looking forward to next week, into dreading the week after that. There's something depressingly pessimistic about the mindset I'm in right now. It's a little crazy. Stupid menses.

So yeah! I'm making the Green Bean Casserole for Thanksgiving this year. Yeah, that's right. I'm the Green Bean Casserole Bringer. It's a title of reverance, because one year somebody (I'm not naming names... We'll call her Dant Aebby) made it using frozen green beans, and didn't cook it long enough to cook them. We ate raw green beans in a sea of mushroom soup that year, and none of us will ever forget it. Ever since that fateful year, Dant Aebbie brings the rolls. (Store-bought.) Everyone is happier. Especially those relatives too polite to not clean their plates. (Not I, I will happily zip past you and scrape into the garbage. If you can't be honest with your relatives, who can you be honest with? Although I'd probably fib on the exact reason. "Oh, guess I'm just not in a bean mood!" or something similar.)

Does your family engage in the "Who eats first?" dance?