Suddenly Feeling All Naked & Exposed...

My mom caught wind of my Christmas card and wants to know what all the fuss is about.

So I considered a number of ways to go about this:

Option A: Actually mail her one - she is currently working overseas. To mail anything takes, I am told, six weeks. To get a Christmas card to her in time, I would have had to NOT pull the idea out of my ass on Friday, December 19; run to Staples at closing time; crank them out of the printer - including all the mailing & return labels; [hosted a major (for me) annual Christmas function]; scribbled some deeply meaningful & personal greeting on each one; instruct Max to deliver them to a Canada Post receptacle that picked up at 10 am (as opposed to the ones that only pick up at 5 pm) on the Monday; and rely on that Wonderful Canada Post to make me look like I didn't do a, b, c, & d. (They arrived locally TWO FULL DAYS before Christmas! The day after they were dropped in the box!)

In other words, I would have had to have been someone else. I come from a long line of Perfect Planners. People who get their Christmas shopping done in July. People who actually DO put meaningful & personal greetings on their Christmas cards (my definition of "personal" from above: I remember your kids' names. And mine). And get them to you in MID December. People who don't send their husbands out into the wilds on Christmas Eve saying: "Oh my GAWD!!! We left out AN ENTIRE KID!!!"

I'm pretty sure Grandma's mailman was not like that, and that line was - shall we say - interrupted. Just sayin'

Option B: Post it here - Yikes. Hi Mom! I have done the blog-equivalent of quickly scanning your apartment's living room for stacks of newspapers, stray underpants and empty vodka bottles in the time it takes to ride the elevator up from the entry buzzer to your door. For the record, that never happened (not with her anyway). I quickly scanned my entries so far. Fortunately, because I am a lazy ass, there weren't that many.

So here is the outside:

I stole [ahem] borrowed [grr] was inspired by an ad I saw for a company that will create & print cards for you.

Here is the inside:

I was inspired by the nuthouse peaceful sanitarium sanctuary in which I live.