Hello, my favorite Tuesday peeps! Somehow, we’ve already arrived at the final Tuesday of August, which I’m having a little trouble wrapping my head around. Didn’t we just start this month?! At this rate, I’ll blink twice and be putting up the Christmas decorations. Although, considering we’re talking about Christmas tree farms this week, maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. 🎄😂
On the bright side, September is knocking on the door, which means we’re inching ever closer to my beloved fall. Bring on the crisp mornings, colorful leaves, cozy sweaters, and pumpkin everything! 🍂
Another Tuesday has rolled around, which means it’s time for another dose of randomness from my little corner of the Pacific Northwest. And this week, apparently we’re combining summer heat, Christmas trees, live music, and the possibility that I may soon be able to see parts of my house I haven’t seen in months. You know… the usual. 😆
The hubby had a gig Friday night at—wait for it—a Christmas tree farm! In August! 🎄 One of the bands he plays in was performing for the Pacific Northwest Christmas Tree Association’s Christmas Tree & Farm Showcase, which is quite the mouthful. The connection actually makes perfect sense, though, because the leader of that particular band owns a Christmas tree farm.
I know, right?!
I’ve always thought it would be amazing to own a Christmas tree farm. Acres of beautiful evergreens, that wonderful Christmas-tree smell, twinkling lights during the holidays… basically my own personal Hallmark movie waiting to happen.
The hubby, however, has never shared my enthusiasm for this particular life plan. Something about “work” and “maintenance” and other practical details that apparently interfere with my idyllic vision.
Pfffft. Details. 😆
I ended up sitting this particular gig out. I’ve discovered that private-party gigs just aren’t really my thing. When the hubby is playing somewhere public, I know what I’m getting into. There’s usually food, something to drink, a place to sit, and other people milling around who are there for the same reason I am.
Private events come with too many unknowns. Will there be somewhere for me to sit? Food? Drinks? Am I going to spend several hours standing awkwardly by myself while the only people I know are on stage performing? My inner introvert hears all of those questions and responds with a very enthusiastic, “You know what sounds good? Staying home.” 😂
The hubby had a fantastic time, though, and that’s what counts. Besides, we have a normal gig coming up this Saturday, and I’m very much looking forward to that one. Give me familiar logistics, somewhere to park myself, good music, and preferably a tasty adult beverage, and I’m there!
Meanwhile, the hubby is now officially on his summer break.
Wish me luck.
For the next several weeks, he’ll be home while I’m still working because, sadly, nobody has offered to pay me simply for being delightful. If I don’t log the hours, I don’t get paid, so I’ll still be tucked away in my basement office doing my thing while the hubby is upstairs doing… well, apparently ALL THE THINGS.
And he has plans.
Once Mother Nature gets through her current menopausal hot flash—which, thankfully, should be finished tomorrow—the hubby has decided he’s done waiting around for the city to get back to us about the drybox.
That’s right, friends.
The Drybox Chronicles may finally be coming out of their holding pattern.
He’s planning to start moving boxes out of the house and into the drybox with a vengeance. At this point, we still don’t know whether the city will ultimately tell us the drybox can stay where it is or whether we’ll have to rotate the darn thing, but we’ve waited long enough. The boxes need to GO.
Which means I see two possible scenarios unfolding while I’m trying to work.
Scenario One: I’ll be interrupted approximately eighty bazillion times with questions like, “Do you want to keep this?” “Where should this go?” and “What about this box?”
Or…
Scenario Two: I’ll disappear into my basement office for a few hours at a time, emerge periodically for coffee or sustenance, and discover that my house has magically grown larger because another section of the pile o’ boxes has vanished.
I’m obviously rooting enthusiastically for Scenario Two. 😉
Either way, I’ll happily accept a little interruption if it means we’re finally making serious progress. Every box that leaves the main floor gets me one step closer to having our house back—and eventually moving my office out of the basement and upstairs into the glorious natural light.
So, between Christmas trees in August, Mother Nature’s hopefully-final-for-a-while hot flash, the hubby being home and underfoot, and the possibility of some major box-moving action, things may actually get interesting around here this week.
Stay tuned. The next installment of The Drybox Chronicles could either be The Great Box Exodus… or The City Finally Calls and Ruins Our Plans.
At this point, I’m not placing any bets. 😆
Now, let’s move on to this week’s collection of random funnies and see what managed to make me laugh!
Don’t forget:
This is hilarious:
This is valid:
I love this:
This cracked me up:
This is hilarious:
This cracked me up:
This is hilarious:
I love this:
This cracked me up:
This is valid:
This is funny:
This is crazy:
And I’m just going to leave this right here for you:
That’s a wrap for this week – you know the drill: link up and join the fun; everyone is welcome etm. 😉
Link up your Random (or not) here:
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Keeping the random alive (barely) – feel free to snag a badge and play along – one for my wino friends:
And one for my non-wino friends:
Heeheehee! Don’t tell me how to do my job. I, unfortunately, have to put up with it.
I do hope you can leave the drybox and just load it up. Have a blessed week!