I know that what I’m about to tell y’all will come as an utter surprise, but listen…
I am becoming quite fond of Pinterest. (And that’s NOT what will come as a surprise to you, because nothing that screams out PROCRASTINATE A BIT LONGER ON THE COMPUTER WHILE THE DIRTY CLOTHES PILE UP should ever come as a surprise to anyone, when we’re talking about me.) But Pinterest and I are quite happily doing our very own thing together, which means that I see things that I like, and then blam! I use the magic PIN IT button and I can hoard that image forever and ever, or until I forget the password to my Pinterest account and can no longer get in.
This is not to say that any of my pins will actually bear fruit. I have a board on Pinterest called DINNER RECIPES, but it should really say, MEALS THAT SOUND GOOD, BUT THEY’LL ONLY HAPPEN AT OUR HOUSE IF WE FIND OIL IN THE BACKYARD AND HIRE A PERSONAL CHEF. But what I like about online hoarding is that you can just keep whatever snapshots / ideas / recipes make you sit up and say, “Mama likes,” and you’re not hogging up any space in a cupboard or closet somewhere, because it’s ONLINE. And yes, some server somewhere is getting plugged up with all of the pallet coffee tables that I probably will never make, but the clogging isn’t happening in our kitchen junk drawer.
And THAT, people, brings a genuine joy to Hubs’ heart, because he and the kitchen junk drawer have issues. Specifically, he wants three things and only three things in such a drawer: A flashlight, a screwdriver and the scissors. The paperclips and the little I FOUND THIS IN THE WASHING MACHINE AND DON’T KNOW WHAT IT CAME OFF OF pieces and the bread bag ties and the scraps of paper with important information written down on them horrify Hubs when he opens the junk drawer.
One of the pictures that I pinned a while back was this one:
I did not take this picture, because that’s not my kitchen. I’m not lucky enough to have that fancy white tile as a backsplash. I saw the picture already pinned on Pinterest, and I RE-pinned it. But look! I like to give credit where credit needs to go, and this bit of holiday sassy-ness in the kitchen can be traced back to THIS BLOG.
As the days of last week progressed in a whirlwind, which is what they do in the month of December, I kept thinking about this little idea for all the Christmas cards that were arriving at our house, and I actually convinced myself that I could probably stand on a chair, secure festive ribbons to our own kitchen cupboards and pull this off.
(I really feel like a good drum roll would be nice here, so go ahead and imagine one.)
I can hardly take it all in either, because WHERE ARE THE DIRTY DISHES PILED UP IN THE SINK?!
Actually, I’m just as impressed with all the Christmas photo cards dangling off the green ribbons as I am with the fact that little elves washed my dishes bright and early this morning and wiped down my counters.
(And by little elves, I mean me.)
And I don’t want anyone to be jealous or sin by coveting because of us…
… but that little eighteen-inches-tall, Italian Stone Pine tree sitting on the kitchen counter is…
… our Christmas tree.
It’s because I don’t believe that Jesus ever wanted us to celebrate his birthday with an admittance pass to the asylum, because Mama went bat-droppings-crazy trying to keep the toddler from climbing a six-foot-tall Christmas tree, knocking the six-foot-tall tree over, and pulling yards and yards of lights and ornaments off of the six-foot-tall Christmas tree. We also found out that the Italian Stone Pine has needles on it that could be used as weapons in our country’s military… or at least by fancy ninjas. They’re sharp as Ginsu knives, so even if Thing 2 does manage to get his hands on this little tree… we’re pretty sure he’ll release it in a big hurry and beg for stitches at the ER.
Plus? Well, when your Christmas tree is only eighteen inches high, it becomes utterly and completely PORTABLE, my friends! If I want to spruce up the kitchen with some holiday decor, blam! I move the tree in there. And what’s that? The dining room needs some Christmas cheer? Well, let me just… you know… HAUL OUR TREE IN THERE! Add to this the fact that our tree is alive, which means we can wear metal armor this spring and plant it outside, so that we have a THIS REPRESENTS THE YEAR MAMA STAYED OUT OF THE STATE-FUNDED LOONY BIN memorial planted in the backyard, and it’s a trifecta of Christmas perfection.
We’ll try the six-foot-tall Christmas tree again next year in our living room, when Thing 2 will be a VERY MATURE two-and-a-half…
… and who knows? I may even pull off another Pinterest project by then!