Wow, so a whole month passed in there somewhere...
I think that by the time the Halloween-candy coma wore off, I realized it was time to start brining the turkey, and now here we are, already listening to piped-in Christmas carols at the grocery store. Whew.
The good news is that I can now dig out my prized album of Christmas music by Boys II Men (thank you, Rachel).
The bad news is that I may soon have to purchase a semi-automatic assault rifle.
No, really. Not making that up.
My husband, in his infinite wisdom, has decided that he wants to shoot elk, and he has decided that what he wants to shoot elk with is an AR-308-975aught3-PDQ-BLAH. I'm completely a girl when it comes to firearms, and I can't tell a Winchester from a Rochester, but I'm pretty sure this particular weapon was not conceived with game hunting in mind. It looks suspiciously like it came off the set of Rambo. Anyway, for reasons I will not discuss on the internet, he cannot purchase said firearm under his own auspices. No, he's not a felon. I wouldn't buy a semi-automatic assault rifle for a felon, even if he was my husband. Jeeze. I do have standards...waaaay down there somewhere...
While those of you who know me are debating whether I might, in fact, have standards, and calling up a laundry list of past actions that would refute the existence of said standards, I will be dusting off the American flag bikini in preparation for Christmas pictures.
I can totally see Russia from here.
