We decorated the house for Christmas Saturday.
It was warm enough for flip flops. (Yes, I'll wear sandals even when I shouldn't. But Saturday I was actually totally comfortable!). And for capri yoga pants that came to my mid-calves.
This rocked my world.
So Dane scaled a ladder to the roof where he hung lights and did the annual gutter cleaning ("two birds with one stone," Rye likes to say), and Rye played with "guys" in the leaves I half-heartedly raked (yes, I know. Long overdue. I still haven't actually picked up those piles of leaves, however. Ahem).
And Paige and I just sort of well, hung out.
It was awesome.
The weather mainly is what made it awesome. I don't remember ever hanging out in the yard while someone else hung Christmas lights on the house. Nor do I remember wearing flip flops while decorating the tree.
I'm so not complaining.
The older I get, the less I like cold weather. I remember being in second grade and being the new kid in class - again - having just moved to Nebraska from Texas but having lived in Wisconsin until I was 4 proudly telling people that winter was my favorite holiday. Summer be damned! Who needs swimming pools and popsicles and suntans and sleepovers and baseball and everything that I now think is great (well, I could leave baseball)? Who needs that warm-weather stuff when you can wear snowsuits and build snowforts. Humph. Not that second-grade version of me.
Now, yeah, now I could leave winter waaaaaaay far behind.
Not my choice, as long as I live here. So. I'll take the flip flops day I got Saturday.
Think the kids liked it, too.
Yes, that is a leaf in her mouth ... She was fine.