Here are some things that have been saved in my Drafts folder with the idea that I will one day expand them into full blog posts (since they have all been hanging around for at least six months, it seems unlikely):
I’m always bad at dealing with the end of vacations. I appreciate the familiarity of my own bed. I like the freedom to cook my own food. I love the people who smile at me on a daily basis. Still, my thoughts on those last few days almost always hover around plots to steal just a little more time. Or how to escape to do it again.
The fact that I come home every time has nothing to do with me not being devious enough.
Answers served with a lovely jaunt into foreign idioms
Kate Kearney searched: What is the definition of pumprine?
Pumprine could refer to either the cross-bred plant formed by combining a pumpkin vine and a holm oak tree, or the fruit that said plant bears.
The Pumprine tree is shorter than the holm oak, with wide-flat leaves like the pumpkin vine.
The Pumprine fruit looks like small pumpkin with an acorn’s hat, and is generally mashed and eaten with cinnamon. They also cost about seventy dollars a pound because of their rarity and falsity.
Answers served with an over-zealous attempt to answer all the Christmas questions at once!
Flip the Otter searched: What would your twelve days of Christmas be? (include either things that people would think to give you or what you want to give yourself)
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me:
Twelve books for reading
Eleven songs for singing
Ten plans for traveling
Nine paints for playing
Eight dice games rolling
Seven skirts for dancing
Six scarves for wrapping
Five fake tattoos
Four writing pens
Three new words
Two chiffon pies
And a puppy named Cerberus
Kate Kearney searched: What can you fit in a greeting card?
You can get fit your signature, and a simple holiday wish for happiness and health. And a thank you for that well-timed fruit package. And a promise to stay in touch better next year.
And a doodle of the moose that you saw on the last family vacation.
And the recipe for the Christmas pie that they’ve been begging for years.
And the story of how Grandpa caught a six-foot trout, in an ankle-deep stream, with his bare hands.
And the correct lyrics to that song that your friend laughs about never getting right.
And the entire text of War and Peace.
I like it when songs become so popular you can finish listening to it on one radio channel, flip to another and catch it again. I got lucky once and heard one song eight times in a row in a single hour, then three times during the next. The repetition gives me time to work through all the steps of New Song Acclimation.
Step 1: Hear it for the first time. Get that one line stuck in your head and wish you knew more of the song.
Step 2: Find it again. Listen closely. “Oh hey, that line is clever/cute/poignant/sweet/laughable/possibly the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”
Step 3: Hear it three, no four, wait, five, six, seven, eight more times. It was catchy, now it’s starting to get annoying.