The last week has been filled with visiting friends and family, celebrating Christmas, and driving from Pigspittle to Cowtown, from Cowtown to Pigspittle, from Pigspittle to Lintville, and back again. Here are a few highlights:
- It was a Christmas to sustain my inner-geek. Husband gave me a levitating globe and that very cool science experiment kit from National Geographic. [Note to self: be sure to mention specific products again in blog next year as hints to Husband—it works! ] Also received an adorable pair of pj’s —fabric, astronomically themed with moons, stars, suns; a moon globe; a book by the very funny John Hodgman; a plushy bathrobe; and far more good stuff than I deserve.
- While half-watching TV, I commented on an ad promoting the animated movie about Moses, the Prince of Egypt, which led Mother-in-Law to quip that the next would be an animated version of King of Kings, to which I responded, “And then they’ll remake Schindler’s List.” Husband: “With an anthropomorphic typewriter!” Husband then launches into Schindler and his animated typewriter performing a duet—”Make My List”—to the tune of “Be My Guest.” The best couplet: “I can save a Jew!” “Why not make it two!“
- We drove to Lintville to see Father-in-Law, thinking it would just be us and maybe a few other family members. Arrived to find more than a dozen adults and kids (all sugared up), and a mound of presents under, around, and stacked high behind a tree, which I looked upon with dread, sensing that we would not be allowed to leave until every gift was opened. Husband: “We’re getting out of here before the presents.” Me: “No, we’re not.” We didn’t.
- In four days, we consumed five pounds of Folger’s Half-Caf.
- The yorkshire pudding was adequate. Every year, I serve yorkshire pudding and roast beef, in the tradition my father started, and every year the yorkshire pudding comes out different. This year’s: a little on the doughy side, needing to cook maybe five minutes longer. Better than four years ago when the underside of the pudding came with a metallic blue layer of the pan beneath it.
- Thanks to my oldest brother, who keeps track of such things, I now know the number of years that have elapsed since all family (mom, dad, aunt, etc.) deaths, and I also have a passing knowledge of all celebrity deaths that have occurred in the past month.
- We spent some time with our friend JP. Yesterday, we went to the antique shops and flea market. I’m proud to say that I located a fine specimen for his Wall of Conduct: a certificate for some outstanding Pigspittle County Republican signed by Governor James Rhodes in 1964. We then stopped by the antique store with the cockatiel who Husband and I have named “Shrma Shrma Shrma.” The first time we encountered the bird was last Christmas and all it would say was “shrma, shrma, shrma,” which quickly became code for those times when one of us murmured something the other couldn’t hear:
Husband mumbles something.
Me: “Shrma, shrma, shrma.”
Husband: “I said, I’ll take the dog out.”
Much to our chagrin, Shrma didn’t say much at all yesterday. The owner, however, I’m certain, said, “Shrma, shrma, shrma.”
- We’ve watched 9 or 10 hours of Doctor Who, third season (2007), so far. It is our Doctor Who marathon weekend, thanks to the DVD box set and new DVD player (that can read British DVDs) from Mother-in-Law, not to mention the incredible new TV she gave us for birthday/Christmas/anniversary. The third season is, despite what the Brit Doctor Who traditionalists say (according to Husband, who googles such things), the best so far. How can you not love David Tennant?
- Today, Husband is setting up his guitar repair table with the new magnifying lamp I bought him for Christmas. Every half hour or so, he runs upstairs to tell me how cool it is. “The base is weighted!” “The base has a little pocket thing you can put things in!“
Life is good.
