The folks are in town for a few days for a pre-Christmas Christmas visit.
Things are a little goofy this year as Jamie's ever-fluctuating health has meant we declined to travel to Houston for this year's Christmas fun. Well, my grandparents had already booked their trip to Houston, and my parents wanted to see both fun ends of the generation spectrum. Hence, my folks are here this weekend.
For you Loyal Leaguers, this means reduced blogging going into Christmas. Which, given participation of late, probably won't be a big deal (hey, it's the Holidays. I know you kids are busy).
Just when I thought Nanostalgia.com was on life support (Jim D. and Randy had been MIA), Steven G. Harms picked an hilarious fight with a reviewer from "The Stranger", and apparently got her irritated enough to respond in full in the comments section. Steven G. Harms, I bow before you once again.
I made some fairly immature comments in the comments section, too, but I'm not on my usual computer where I bookmarked my log-in to Nanostalgia, so you can read my $0.02 on the issue which was not very well self-edited. Most likely, I would have preferred to have not posted my second comment at all. The first one was sufficient.
Ah, well. I'm a jack ass. This is not news.
We sort of had Christmas today. Woke up, ate Jamie's once-a-year Roll Wreath (ambrosia, Leaguers. If anything every demanded a recipe posted, it's Judy McB's Christmas Roll Wreath), some bacon and had some coffee. Showered, went to church (got lost on way to the church), grabbed lunch, fell asleep for a long time, woke up, played with dogs, opened Christmas presents, played with dogs, ate a delicious Christmas dinner, did dishes, watched "It's a Wonderful Life."
At this point, December 25th is sort of moot. I did my Christmas. It was very nice. Anything Steanso brings to the table during Christmas visit next week will be lesser and a bit of a let down. We'll do Channukah instead, just to mix it up.
Oh, man. I think the cat just farted on me. Ewww.
Anyway, ya'll have a good one this week. Safe traveling. Safe shopping. Safe everything.
(Oh, and here is my secret message to all my fellow revolutionaries in The War on Christmas: The Fat Man is in the Sleigh. I repeat: The Fat Man is in the Sleigh.)
Buwahhhhh-HA HA HA HA HA HA