I don't know when my fondness for 11/11 started, but it's very strong. It's only slightly dorky now, but when I am an old, old woman, it will be one of the things that makes me eccentric. Because I won't just say I'm "fond" of 11/11 and then change the subject, I'll throw large parties on the date and invite a diverse group of dignitaries and relatives and nincompoops and serve expensive wine and wear elaborate outfits involving capes and whatnot and the neighbors will complain about the noise so I'll invite them, too, and everyone will have a good time and wonder what obscure excuse they can come up with to throw such a party.
This year, I spent my 11/11 in the following way: First, I employed a new method of cheering myself up in the morning--- (I need cheering up in the morning because I want with all my heart to stay in bed until ten o'clock, but my life tells me I have to get up much, much sooner and do things like shower and raise my children.) ---I decided to try a little fantasizing. I imagined that my house wasn't a suburban family home, but a charming little hillside bed and breakfast. And I opened the curtains and looked out at the foresty view (this can be accomplished in reality with just the right amount of squinting, as the neighbor behind us has an enormous pine tree) before tiptoeing downstairs to start the fire and begin making breakfast. Breakfast consisted of oatmeal, poached eggs, eggs Benedict, and plain old scrambled for the less adventurous guests. Fresh fruit with real cream. Cinnamon toast. French toast. Scones. Sausage and turkey bacon. Homemade yogurt topped with just-picked berries. Just delightful. And as my fantasy reached its height with the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and just-squeezed orange juice, I heard John yell, "MOMMY!" and so I bounded up the stairs and into his room to the stink of poopy morning diaper and the fantasy disintegrated rapidly and entirely. We all had a bowl of cereal within the hour.
The rest of the day, I forsook the fantasizing, with the exception of one moment on a cross-town drive when Veggie Tales "Lord of the Beans" was playing on the DVD and I imagined myself listening to a book on tape. Thankfully, it's not necessary for me to escape my life TOO often. And, actually, "Lord of the Beans" makes me laugh right out loud a time or two.
Mid-morning, my darling children, along with over twenty other homeschooled darlings, sang for the residents of a skilled nursing facility. And there was piano and guitar and violin and recorder and poetry recitation and a whole lot of red, white, and blue for Veterans Day.
Lunch with friends, which is a joy, and some reading time in the afternoon before P.E. at the park and then our last soccer practice of the season. Bethie's team had a pizza party after practice, and that amounted to a whole bunch of us enthusiastic sports families standing in the dark and cold while we waited for the pizza. You'll be proud of me that I did no escapist fantasizing. I just stood there being thankful I have boots and a coat and live in the desert.
Tonight a short run with part of my running team and then a hot shower and pajamas. I'm typing about this funky day wearing a cozy sweater and the hood on because it's just downright chilly.
A year from today will be 11/11/11. Yes, I'm having a party. Certainly you are invited.
But for today, I think my reality beats my fantasy, and I'm glad for that. Except for the notion of that really wonderful breakfast... gosh I could sure use that!