It's official. 2008? Will forever be known as the year full of fail. No matter how many things went right this year, one very significant thing went wrong: the Christmas lights were never all put up. Even worse, of those that were put up, half of them decided to stop working. I could blame Mother Nature and her damn 5 degree temps, 40 mph winds, and never-ending torrential downpours (because, you know, if it's not 5 degrees then it must be 70 degrees). I could, but I won't. It was just a bad year for the lights. Instead of looking like this:

Our house looked like this:

Try not to be jealous of the lake in our front yard. I fully expect to find that the pond fish have moved to the deeper water in the middle of the lawn any day now.

The good news is that in my quest to replace the defunct icicle lights, I called Mr. Husband to verify the quantity of strands that I should buy. He? ROCKS. He told me to buy twice what I thought I needed because next year at this time WE WILL NOT BE IN THE SAME HOUSE. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who can't wait to move to a bigger house with a better electrical box. I'm sure that is exactly why Mr. Husband wants to move--so we have the wiring to put up twice as many lights.

(Note to self: Last year the rain ruined your sparkly parade, too. PUT THE DAMN LIGHTS UP IN NOVEMBER. Ignore the whiners and just do it because Pittsburgh in December = RAIN.)