My Christmas gift...

My aunt sent me some Christmas money, which surprised and touched me.  So, I asked my step-father, since he was driving to Indianapolis to fetch my sister and my nephews anyway, if he would go to Trader Joe's and fetch me some of their BLOODY FANTASTIC frozen corn.  I was surprised and pleased that he did!

This is the laaaassssttt vestiges of the last stash someone fetched for me.  I now have 15 bags in the basement, 13 for me (a baker's dozen) and two to use for my nephews whilst they are visiting (IF and only if I must).  This really is the BEST FROZEN CORN in the universe.

I like to have it on my chalupas.
It makes them perfect.
And makes me contented.

[Yes, I saved room in the freezer in the utility closet for just this very purpose.  I dared to hope.]

So, how do I ever convey to my aunt the depth of my gratitude of guilt free (non-budgeting breaking) purchase of my beloved corn?  What words are there to describe the complete culinary pleasure of cooking and eating Trader Joe's frozen corn?  It is literally the closest you can have to fresh corn.  And corn completes me.   Warms the cockles of my heart.  Soothes fractured nerves.  Restores flagging hope.  Satisfies my soul.  That is the gift that she gave me!

[No, I really, really, really do not like to share my Trader Joe's corn.  Even with 13 bags.]

I did entirely too much today.  I tried to ask for help, but did not receive as much as I needed.  Tomorrow is a visit to the Botanical Gardens and I just do not believe that I can go.  I should stay home and rest as much as possible.

Shopping for the remaining groceries lasted two and a half hours, wherein I had no wheelchair shopping cart.  Then putting away the groceries, which thankfully I did not have to bring in from the car, took an hour.  I was exhausted, but it was not that much longer until I needed to work on dinner, which ended up being too much work for me.  I was panicking in how I was feeling physically and grew very grumpy.  I wish that my family could see how tired I was and understand my grumpiness.  But more so I wish that I could refrain from being grumpy.

We played Skipbo after dinner.  My sister won the first round and my mother then second.  I won neither round.  That is not how Skipbo games are supposed to go!

I want to be a better host tomorrow.
I want to be a better sister and daughter tomorrow.
I want to be a better aunt tomorrow.
I want to be a better delegator tomorrow.
I want to be a better rester tomorrow.
I want to be a better person tomorrow.