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What I Wore Sunday: Jingle Jam

Hail from the gloriously high and dry elevation of 7,800 feet. Monument, Colorado…almost heaven.

But anyway, the husband and I slipped out for Mass alone this morning – alone I tell you – and it.was.awesome. Homily? I heard it. Eucharist? I got it. Both readings and the responsorial Psalm? Yep, listened to those too…in order.

Afterwards, I enjoyed a leisurely afternoon of Broncos football, children napping on a separate floor from me, and plenty o’ aunts, uncles and grandparents to hold them allllllll day long.

Then, I conscripted this lovely lady into snapping my weekly selfies:

Behold, the youngest Senour sister. Ain’t she purdy? 

She obliged, willingly. Let the all-humiliation hour commence.

Oh, Christmas tree…
How lovely are your branches. I just have to touch them.
Gaudete Sunday. Nothing says rejoice like a head wreathed in evergreen. 

Outfitted by a thrifty triple threat. I am on fire:

Top: Banana Republic, thrifted
Skirt: Tag ripped out but prooooobably Target, thrifted
Shoes: Nine West, thrifted

Leading me to this little gem, as introduced to mi familia by our recently returned collegiate crew. Warning: F bombs. Like, several. But still…an apt anthem for my awesome.

Forgive my blurry cell phone pix?

Happy Sunday, off to FLAP you go.

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