I am so glad I didn't win the lottery today. I mean, it would be such a drastic lifestyle change...I for one don't think I could handle it. For instance, it would be so lonely around here without all those debt collectors calling. I don't think I would feel very loved anymore.

And the living in more than two rooms, that seems like a rather lonely way to exist, does it not? Currently most of the things we do in our rabbit warren of an apartment take place in one big-ish room. This main room has "the big bed", the kitchen table, many books, the couch and the two small dressers David and I cram all of our clothes into. This room also contains three plants, two red cabinets, a green plastic table and the rather scholarly pile of crap that's David's study nook. Austin has the bedroom so we can try and keep most of his toys out from under foot. We luckily enough have a hallway that doubles as a kitchen and a bathroom that doesn't double as anything. It's just a bathroom, thank what-ever gods caused that little miracle.

But, I have become side tracked. I was talking about how empty and vapid our lives would be if we were millionares. Here's a case in point. Today we as a family walked on down to the farmer's market to buy a Christmas tree for our house. We arrived without incident and in a fairly painless transaction, given the circumstances.....that the two nice people selling trees were from Truckee and looked like they might only wake up from a magical slumber once a year to cut down their Dry Farmed Douglass Firs, or whatever they are and drive into town to sell them to impatient city folk like us.......we paid for our tree. The Christmas Tree Man asked us where we would like him to put the tree, looking around for some cute mini cooper or perhaps a restored VW bus. We asked him to put it in our stroller.

If you know us, you know that we are to punk-ass-poor to own a car. I would like to add that we are too darn-tooting irresponsible for car ownership as well. Monthly payments are not our stong point, as a group. Anyways, the Tree Man didn't blink. I think just being in the city was enough of a mind blower for him. He put a little bag around the cut end and genlty placed our little tree in our stroller. Yes, David buckled it in. Safety First! After that, he left us to go to his school.

Immediately market people started to point and say many variations of the phrase, "How Cute!" The calls of cuteness followed us all the way home as Austin and I pushed the stoller back up to our neighborhood. Women in cars could be seen mouthing the phrase to others in the same vehicle. It was a gigantic cute fest, what with us walking and carrying things instead of driving around in a car. We as a family apparently are just so quirky and adorable! And as I for one don't dispute the title of cute, quirky family (because of course we are so those things), I do wonder if the same people who found us so charming also smile when homeless people push things around in the abandoned baby strollers that seem to proliferate this fair city. I think not. And I think David was right when he said that people are smiling at us because they don't know just how close to the edge we are.

Er, Happy darn-tooting-punk-ass-poor Holidays. I can't think of anything else to say.