Christmas actually wasn’t all that dysfunctional this year. We had one gathering in Edelweiss on Christmas Eve, and another up at the lake near Wakefield on Christmas Day. The Edelweiss gathering was in this amazing house that Kerry and Maurice rented for two weeks, and which used to be the Joompla Restaurant, and which I believe my ex and I considered buying in 1996. (We didn’t buy it because he was afraid his children would drown in the waterfall in the back yard.)
On Christmas Eve my sister Kerry was explaining how, as a witch, all her power is concentrated in her left hand, and when she dies she wants the bones in her left hand to be given to her four children. However, there are laws against bequeathing your body parts. Her plan, therefore, is to amputate her own left hand when death is both inevitable and imminent. I believe the rest of us are to take care of the gorier details such as the deboning. (Don’t worry, the children were not present during this conversation: they were visiting their other parent. It’ll still be a surprise when the time comes.)
After dinner and wine we got into the coffee and Bailey’s and set to work building the Gingerbread Crack House. There’s a lot of fine detail and craftsmanship in this house. We had a crackerjack team of architects and builders working on it. From left to right: my son James, my brother-in-law Maurice, my brother Rob, my sister Kerry, and my brother-in-law Scott.
On the box, it said “TELL US ABOUT YOUR SPECIAL GINGERGREAD HOUSE! SEND A PHOTO TOO!” I’ll do that tomorrow.
The amazing house (the rental, not the crack house) came with a stray cat who was living a sad and lonely life under the steps. Kerry and Maurice of course invited her to stay in the house with them. They’re trying to locate her owners, but if there is no response, I might adopt her. I named her Taz. She’s very small and quite young and she’s a sweetie. I think I need a cat, don’t you?
I slept in a very short bed that night, which is normally occupied by a very short child. The room was wonderful, with bears and artwork and a sloped ceiling. I liked it a lot. I felt like Goldilocks in the very short bed.
On Christmas morning Maurice made french toast. Afterwards we all went over to my mom’s place on the lake. It looked and smelled wonderfully Christmasy. After the children were collected from their other parents, we opened presents.
Arrow, seven-year-old daughter of the feminist witch, was thrilled that her mother finally caved in and got her a Barbie. The rest of us were amused. Kerry was quick to point out that Barbie has become far more realistically proprotioned than she used to be. She no longer has a 68 inch bust, althought she’s still 8 feet tall with a 16 inch waist. Barbie spent the evening doing gymnastics in the living room. I got to do her voice. Every time Barbie said “OW!” Arrow reminded her that she was only plastic and therefore couldn’t possibly feel pain.
I didn’t take many pictures. This is the only one I got of Sam, who likes me now because I can whistle.
This is Max who likes the new baby but also likes to sometimes get in the baby seat and pretend that HE is the baby.
Dinner was delicious: turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, cauliflouer, broccoli, green beans, carrots, yum! (The children didn’t eat much though because a certain aunt bought their Christmas presents at Sugar Mountain.)
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I am sorry that I missed it…but it sounds like a certain aunt still loves to buy her neices and nephews presents that the parents specifically ask her not to…I remember saying, “get them anything as long as it doesn’t have a lot of pieces”. What did they get, you ask…a 1500 pc LEGO set. The kids still remember it and love their aunty Sooze.
The picture of Kerry’s arm looks like she got a head start on the amputation…glad I wasn’t there to agree to participate when the time comes.
Is your friend Dave grey-haired and quite good looking. Combs up well. There was Dave St J on TV briefly at the dinner somewhere. How lame! I cannot remember the name.
Deb – Kerry didn’t specifically ask me not to get her kids candy, though I did read on her blog that juice is considered junk food at their house.
Besides, I’m pretty sure all the Sugar Mountain candy is organic. At least I didn’t get them the Popeye candy cigarettes.
Gillian…Dave is grey-haired, but his last name is not StJ.I don’t know if you’d call him good looking or not, and I don’t remember ever seeing him freshly combed or anything like that. But he is gracious and well-mannered and respectable and respectful, so he’s quite presentable anyway. There’s a picture of him here: http://knitnut.net/?p=55
I read something recently about how you can bequeath your skin to be used as a cover on a hand bound book. after you die of course.
rather like the idea for myself but I don’t think either of my sons would want a book covered in their mother’s skin
(sorry if this is a little macabre for your other commenters….)
It seems more of a gift for daughters, somehow.
That’s the sweetest crack house I’ve ever seen.
Sam looks like Arrow
Sam LOVES the word PHYSIO and just cracks up when we say it. Try that with your whistles, Sue.