Old Tradition: Ornaments
This year's ornaments:
An alpaca and a dead armadillo. The alpaca, of course, because of the Branson Alpaca Spitting Incident, and the armadillo because the armadillos continue their inexorable march to our backyard. They aren't quite here yet, but we saw a dead armadillo three miles away.
I realize now that I didn't document last year's ornament, which was a wine bottle, commemorating the year we started buying wine. I say buying wine, not drinking wine. We have amassed a substantial collection of almost full open wine bottles.
I found one full bottle on Christmas-Eve-eve and drank all of it, instituting:
New Tradition: Drunk Gift Wrapping
It was a cave wine. Mark Twain Cave in Hannibal MO sells wine. That's an example of the classy wine we buy. Not much else happened in Hannibal, except I took a photo that encapsulates the Hannibal experience, with Miss Hannibal barefoot in front of the Mark Twain museum.
Anyway, cave wine was just the ticket for Wednesday night, because I had all the presents to wrap and my back was tweaked. It was more water than wine, so I had a second glass to kill the pain, then a third glass because Gary wasn't looking, then a fourth glass because I've never had a whole bottle of wine before. Interestingly, I can drink a whole bottle of cave wine and not even be legally drunk per the breathalyzer. I metered in at 0.05.
Old Tradition: Chrstmas Cookies
Last year we donned the mantle of Christmas cookie chefs.
That was last year's cookie haul. This year we made double that amount. Fifteen types, about three dozen of each. But it did make me dip into Mom's recipe box and make Mocha Balls.
I wondered for a while why Mocha Balls were the only family Christmas cookie I remember. Then, when I was shaping the balls and smelling the mocha, I remembered: it was my job to roll out the balls, being the only person in the family with functioning hands and fine motor control.
Since I need to integrate more of my family into our Christmas Day, I served popovers for Christmas breakfast.
New Tradition: Popovers for Breakfast
These popovers are trying too hard.
Old Tradition: Gifts
Gary has a bad habit of giving offering me gifts early, and I have a bad habit of giving in to him as he dances about waving candy in front of me as he coos "open this early! You can have your candy right now," so I usually have nothing to open Christmas morning.
This year I early-opened the candy, all the pajamas, and the Big Gift: Necomimi Cat Ears that reflect your brainwaves, Perfect for our brain-damaged family.
They are exquisitely painful, because one place it accesses your brainwaves is your earlobe, so it's like wearing a pair of clip-on earrings for hours. Still, they do seem to work, perking up when you crunch ice or hear loud sounds, drooping down when you get a quiet moment in the bathroom at the in-laws.
He also bought me earrings, which was nice, only my ears closed up years ago. So, time again to re-pierce my ears and stick with the six months of studs for real this time.
Finally, Untraditional Reindeer Family
I opened the front door Christmas morning, and admired my reindeer family: Mr. and Mrs. Reindeer and their baby.
Wait! Where is Baby?
"The bastards! " I thought, "They stole Baby!"
A few steps out into the yard revealed Baby's true fate:
Tami Y tells me this is unoriginal. Still, it gave me a good laugh on Christmas.The culprit remains at large.