Let's see...
Tree went up Christmas Eve. We went to bed with it undecorated and no presents in sight. We hung our stockings and opened our new Christmas nighties. We put out cookies and milk for Santa and carrots and apples for the deer. Daddy would read us T'was The Night Before Christmas.
When we woke up in the morning, my angel was on my nightstand playing music.
We went downstairs and CHRISTMAS HAD HAPPENED. The tree was decorated, music was playing, there were presents everywhere. opened our stockings and played with them. When we couldn't stand it another minute we woke up our parents.
[Mom had crocheted our stockings and they are color coordinated and among the few things that survived our house fire in '94. A few years ago when Foster Sis joined our family Mom wasn't feeling up to making a new one so we were considering not hanging them at all so she wouldn't feel left out. Libkitty made a coordianting stocking for FS and mailed it to us FROM THE GOSH DANGED NORTH POLE!!!!! (well, Alaska). This is one of my favorite Buffista Stories EVAH ]
(In later years a "breakfast stocking" was added... it was full of fruit and yogurt and muffins and the sort of thing we could eat by ourselves and buy Mom a little more sleep -- at this point she was doing Christmas by herself so this was particularly clever of her.)
Presents were opened one at a time. It took HOURS. We'd stop and eat something at some point. Some were from people, some were from Santa. My sisters and I each have a color of tissue paper for our Santa presents. Mine is red, S is green, R is white and FS is black or silver (for she is funky).
Later in the day we'd go to my Father's parents for the extended family Christmas. Even after my parents split we did this. My Grandparents' solution to "Who do our married kids spend Christmas with?" was to invite the in-laws as well so it was pretty natural that Mom just kept coming and sometimes with HER Mom too. Several years my Father wasn't around anyway. My Grandparents' house was very small, but somehow it was always big enough.
When we were little, Gramma would have cookie day. I looooooved cookie day. Turns out, and I never knew this, that she did it so our parents could go shopping. The year my Grandparents died when my Aunt cleaned up the house, she made piles of various things that we could take. I got the cookie cutters.
Now the extended family Christmas is at a different Aunt or Uncle's house each year within a week or so of Christmas. And Christmas morning at my Mom's still goes on the better part of the day. It will be a shock if I am out of my pajamas before 3:00.
Daniel just asked me how long he had to wait for a "Harvey eats canned mushrooms" post.
So here it is.
Darn cat reaches up sooooooo high to Daniel's fork to hijack the mushrooms. Pretty funny to watch, but I may have to point and laugh when Daniel gets frustrated that the cat always wants to be climbing up him and getting on his desk when he is noshing at the computer.
Niece aside, sometimes I just want to kick Drew's family.
Stockings, then breakfast, then presents. Breakfast is german pancake with berries and bacon, mimosas if we remembered to buy champagne, otherwise just the fresh oj that's too pricey to buy on a regular basis.
Annabel on her trike
Dude, I've been in Minearverse too much, I was expecting to see a toddler on a picket line.
We decorated the tree at some point, and then we'd put on the 'special' ornaments, like the bell my bro made when he was three. Then, either my bro or I would put the star on the tree, alternating even and odd years. In the morning, there would be unwrapped presents from Santa (always with batteries in them, ready to go, very key) At some point, my mother would make us shower and get dressed, then we would have Christmas dinner (at 2PM or so). We then unwrapped presents, and had dessert after.
It was never like this when I was a kid. Things didn't get messed up until I left for college.
I skipped and skimmed so hugs for all what needs them.
I have a question for the hivemind: How much trouble can you get in for opening a bank account with an incorrect address? I suspect that my roommate's dad is using our address on a new account since an envelope from a bank and a box that is shaped like checks arrived on the same day addressed to him. Can I get in any trouble for not reporting that he doesn't live here?
...6pm. Hangover gone.
To be fair, it's been gone for several hours now - I pretty much just slept and drank water this morning, and that did the trick. Still, I do find that I'm far less willing/ready/able to cope with the horror of the morning after these days than when I was a wee slip of a student.
Ngah.
So after being very Ascot Lady in the daytime, last night I was a vicar, and then something of a tart (inasmuchas there was shirtlessness). Happily, though, it was within a context in which the stunning tartiness of my various friends utterly overshadowed any modicum of tartiness I might myself be displaying, so that's good. Although I still slightly fear Facebook and the inevitable photographs...
Anyhoo, yes - this afternoon we had our cast party for
A Christmas Carol.
Since the cast comprises such a range of ages, it was far more sedate and seemly than cast parties usually are. I now have a DVD of our production, and can witness for myself how very, very, very, VERY much I need to cut back on the carbs and get the hell back to the gym.
Gosh. That was depressing.
laga, I don't think the bank thing would be a problem for him or you, unless there's some requirement that he doesn't meet (like the bank requires that he live in a particular city, or he's an illegal immigrant or something.)
