Few things make me feel more obsolete and ignorant than navigating Kevin’s smart home. From trying to find a light switch to turning on the TV to setting an oven timer, it’s all via an app on your phone or telling Alexa your intentions. It’s handy, but it’s also infuriating. And now I had a new machine to learn the ins and outs of: the dang coffeepot. It’s as necessary as the toilet. Why does it always have to be so complicated? Why does he have to be so techy and fancy?

He showed me again, patiently, how to work the complex coffeemaker. He had biscuits in the oven, although I had expressly forbade him to fix any kind of breakfast. I’d even brought my own bacon. But does he listen?? Nooooo. He also scrambled me eggs. With cheese.I must admit, it’s hard to find anything wrong with a man fixing me breakfast. And here it had happened twice in a week! Two different men, with no favors expected! 🤣🤣🤣
I settled at the bar, picking at the plastic price tags on his new placemats while he chattered on like a monkey in a tree about his new role at work and the recent flight to Honduras in the corporate jet. He found pictures online of it (because he was too cool to snap any when boarding). He said he prefers to sit in the restroom area of it, because you have a little room all to yourself and the chair is cushier. I found this VERY amusing. He said when it’s raining, they get to board in the hangar so they don’t catch a chill. 😎
“I’m telling you, I’d feel like such hot shit getting on that thing, they’d never get my nose out of the air. It’s a good thing you don’t board in the rain. Look!! They even lay you out a Fruit rug!!! Dang!!!”
At this point, he allowed a grin, agreeing that he did, indeed, feel like hot shit. This was not his first trip in it, but the novelty hasn’t worn off as of yet.

So it was after eleven before we made our first trek to the attic for decorations. It’s not bad getting to his attic- it’s simply a door off the bonus room and you walk straight over into it. He’s got plywood down so it’s fairly safe, too. I have to say I was relieved. My entire experience with attics involve hearing about people missing a beam and falling through the floor. And, you know, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
So we got the rugs and pictures traded out, the dining room mostly situated, changed the bedding in Granny’s room, the bathroom was pretty much done, apart from one rug that would need to be purchased, the back porch fixed up, a plan for the cabinets….and that just left the tree.
“I’m dreading it either way,” Kevin admitted.
“You just built it last year! You gotta use it again!!!”
“But you don’t understand what an ordeal it is…well, both of them are. But with the real tree, I’d get it put up and lit, and Scarlett would come and fluff and decorate it and I didn’t have to worry about it.”
“Well, you can still do that. Or I can be Scarlett. But I think you need to break the new thing out again.”
He breathed deeply, attempting to gather strength. “Okay. Let’s go.”
So we went.
And by the time we’d drug all the pieces down, I felt like I was reaching an understanding.
By the time I watched him manhandle the first piece over the pole, I felt there had to be a batter way. Kevin insisted there wasn’t, that to make a section that had a hinge would cause it to sag over time. But oh myyyy. And I, of course, was no help, as I am vertically challenged, and I had to be two places at once, anyway, to place the scotch, and to move the ladder.
We needed three grown men. One of us definitely needs to get married before this thing has to be put back up. Or really, taken apart, although he claims that’s marginally easier.

We had to take water breaks (he said no wine until this thing was fully assembled) so that was a drag, but I could see his point.
Lori backed out of supper, which was disappointing. We worked till about 4, then decided the sweaty part was over, and he knew I’d need an hour to do all the girl business, so we took a recess. He made our reservations for 6:30 so we’d have plenty of time to get by Menards for a few things.
As I got ready, I reflected that it felt like it did when I used to get ready for a date with my husband. But it wasn’t. I didn’t wear perfume. But still fun, getting prettied up to go out to a new restaurant in town. Christmas decorating. Yes, I was right to come. Even though I missed my dog immensely.

So Menards is really quite the deal. First of all, it’s enormous. It’s like a Walmart, Lowes, and lumberyard all combined. They sell groceries, dog toys, plumbing, decorations, and they have a bi-level millwork “yard”, which is separate from the lumberyard.
I saw an opportunity as I watched his eyes light up. “This organization impresses you? You like it, do you??” Sarcasm at its finest.
But it really was surreal.

Dinner was really good, but none of their wines tickled my fancy, so we didn’t drink. I think Kevin really wanted something, but didn’t want to drink alone. I get it. It’s no fun. I also wanted creme brulee worse than I wanted alcohol, but by the time I ate my tortellini in some very rich cream sauce, I wasn’t very interested in that, either. Oh well.
We walked around a bit outside but there wasn’t much of anything going on, surprisingly. I would have been for going to have a drink at Gerard’s, but we had wine at the house, plus the Georgia Tennessee game was underway, plus the plugging of the houses still awaited, for the most part.
So, an early night on the town.

We got back, changed into non-restrictive clothes, and returned to the business at hand, which was building the village. He had it figured out last year how to showcase it in the most aesthetic way, so this involved consulting the pictures from a year ago, just like we did in the dining room. I’m glad I’m not crazy.

At last, we at least got all the buildings laid out. Just needed to do the filler. He had some painted pine cones that served as trees. I could see myself getting allllll kinds of carried away with this, there are so many options. And he certainly didn’t have enough horses to suit me.

The ballgame concluded as we polished off the bottle. It wasn’t as smooth as the night previous, and I wasn’t keen to open another. But we did consume some very delicious pumpkin roll that he’d gotten from Sam’s. Tennessee lost, but I don’t think anybody was mad about it. Georgia has been the team to beat for several years running now. Emily definitely wasn’t mad, she roots for both teams, she just didn’t want to see any injuries.

We turned in about eleven. Thankfully, on this trip, I didn’t hear any tornado sirens as I lay down to sleep, only train whistles.