So, how did Santa treat you?
Very well, I hope. However, I’m certain no other 50-year-old woman got presents like some of mine!
For example, I got a rechargeable drill. I also got a complete set of drill bits (some of which I have no idea what you’d use them for) and a real nifty combination stud finder and level.
Old Ho Ho also brought me a hoe — along with a yard rake, garden rake, shovel, and spade.
Now, while you might think these are strange gifts, I am thrilled.
You see, with any luck, I should be moving into my new home in a couple of months. Thus my kids are making sure I’ll have all the things I’ll need for the move.
The drill and accessories will help me hang pictures and put together various items, while the yard tools will help me get what is now a quagmire into shape.
(Do you think the stud finder will help me acquire a he-man to do the heavy lifting? Probably not.)
Anyway, things are progressing toward the day I take up my new abode. For some time now — for reasons I won’t go into here — I’ve been living in my daughter’s basement. I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m looking forward to having a residence with windows.
The most exciting thing, however, will be having space for everyone — including me — when the kids all come to visit.
There will be no more nights like the recent one where I gave up and slept on the floor while a handful of grandkids and my dog, Pepper, took over one bed and three others claimed the second.
In fact, the second-largest room in my new house is a kid’s room. Despite my decorating plans for the space, I’ve got a feeling it’s going to end up looking like a dorm with the four beds that will go in there.
Those, added to the other guest rooms, might just let me claim the master bedroom for my very own (although Pepper and I haven’t quite worked out that detail).
Another nice thing will be having three bathrooms which, I logically figure, on any given weekend should cut the wait time by one-third.
I can also divvy up the toothbrushes between the baths. Right now, although I theoretically live alone, there are no less than nine toothbrushes in my bath. There’s a Cinderella brush, a Tweety Bird brush, a “Baby’s First” brush, and so on.
Finally there is the pleasure of comfortable dining to which I am looking forward. In an effort to seat at least half of the family at any one time, I’ve ordered a custom-built table, four feet wide by nine feet long, for the great room.
That room will be a “great room” indeed — the first time we all gather around the table with a platter of fried chicken.
Meanwhile, it’s time to work on making the draperies for my long longed-for windows. To that end, Santa also brought me new sewing scissors. I can assure you, this pair will not end up in the kid’s room all gooped-up with glue, glitter, and traces of Fruit Roll-Ups that have been cut to shreds.
In fact, all of my new tools are going to be hidden away — off limits to the grandkids.
There is one thing Santa brought, however, that will be proudly displayed for all to admire.
It’s a ceramic plaque.
Shaped like a snowman, its handpainted message proclaims, “Nanny’s House, Where Grandchildren are Loved.”
I can’t wait to hang that in the “dorm.”
This piece was originally published Dec. 31, 2002, in the Eastern Shore Post. Candy Farlow, a founder of the Eastern Shore Post weekly newspaper and a longtime journalist on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, died in 2017. Among other endeavors she worked for a time as a telephone lineman, reporter, columnist, radio DJ, and as a community relations director for Shore Memorial Hospital. Her former columns will be printed monthly in Shore First. 
