My tree is feeling the pain of post-Christmas-blues as well:
Those are sticky buns. Sticky buns covered in butter. Then drizzled with butterscotch pudding mix. Then sprinkled with brown sugar. Then buttered again. Then deep fried. Then rolled in pecans. Then sprinkled with more sugar. I may be exaggerating, but not by much.
Going....
Going...
Gone.
After I woke up from my sugar coma, I waddled to the living room (while scratching my belly), rolled onto the couch and watched "A Christmas Story". My family loves this movie. We love it so much that I bought this for my Dad for Christmas:
I realize if you've never seen the movie, this may not make any sense. I apologize. It's a lamp made out of a woman's leg. Nice, huh? He loved it...so that's all that matters. It must be a guy thing that I do not understand. I, for one, would not like a lamp made out of a mans hairy leg. Can you picture that? Big calves, hair, large toes. A mans leg ornament would not nearly be as pretty. That made me laugh out loud to think about - it must be the Christmas hangover. Exhaustion has driven me to a point of delusion. Hairy leg delusion. Speaking of that, I need to shave my legs. Or mine will start to look like a mans. Someone please come and rescue me.
If you come to rescue me, you will find me here:
In this wonderful village.
There are sheep. And cows. And this is where I want to be. It's a lil' homestead.
I think I will just curl up here for the next few weeks. This will give me a chance to sweat all the butter and salt from my pores. Then, when the beautiful spring comes, I will be refreshed, rejuvenated, and ten pounds lighter. Would anyone like to come and join me? Anyone? Anyone? We can recover together, my friend. Welcome.