All I want for Christmas is a clean house. . . .

The tree is up, the house is clean, and the Cat Master is about to keel over.

I'm writing this Saturday afternoon after putting up the tree Friday night and cleaning all day Saturday. Funny how decorating for Christmas will make you see things that are in desperate need of cleaning that you somehow manage to ignore the rest of the year. I cleaned things that haven't been touched in fifteen years.

Then I look at the bookshelves and wonder, why do I have two copies of Chuck Yeager's autobiography? Why do I still have nursing books that were probably outdated when I bought them??? Why do we have repair manuals for cars we no longer own?

Oh, yes, and another thing I never use. The CD player in the living room. The receiver was purchased by my DH when he was still selling shoes. Just to give you an idea of how long ago that was, I've known him since 1976, and he wasn't selling shoes then and hasn't since. Anyway, while I was decorating the tree, I decided I needed a little Christmas music. I turned on the CD player, and--lo and behold!--there were five CDs still in the player, right where I left them last Christmas, though I think they'd actually been in there for the past two years. I did replace a couple of them with some different albums, but, yeah, they're still in there.

I'm going to our ICU Christmas party tonight. We didn't draw names last year, but this year someone decided to revive the tradition. One of my buddies asked me to be sure to put something on the wish list we have posted in the med room because whoever drew my name had exclaimed, "Oh, no! Cheryl's so hard to buy for..."

I'm not, really. I just don't want anything that can't be used up. So every year I ask for soap, tea, and extra extra dark chocolate. Nothing to find a new place for on the book shelf or in the cabinets. Nothing to stash in the garage because there's no room for it in the house. Just stuff I can use.

I think it's a function of age. After a certain point, you pretty much have everything you need and most of the things you want, which is probably why Christmas and birthdays are so much more fun when you're young and there's always something new and exciting to wish for. When you're older, it doesn't matter so much.

Actually, right now, I just wish for a body that doesn't hurt all over from crawling around scrubbing floors on my hands and knees. I was already getting pretty tired when I decided to wash the front of my kitchen cabinets. I'd scrubbed two sets of doors when I got a little too forceful with the lazy Susan and knocked over a bottle of capers, which got stuck and leaked vinegar all under the shelf while I was trying to get it out.

No doubt about it, I should've listened to Sam when he told me I needed a break, but, hey, at least today's hunk looks nice and clean. . .