this, but the measurements are different. I’ll try to get the recipe posted later today, and link to it here. Here’s the recipe. In any case, though I was skeptical, it turned out really well. Not many people were interested in it, though, so we brought most of it back home with us.
After dinner, we sat around and talked for a few hours. This year everyone either got money or gift cards – Fred got a Lowe’s card, I got money (for Christmas and my birthday, which is coming up way too fast. I don’t know if I’m ready to be 40!). We got home close to 10, and exclaimed over how tired we were (for we are lame), and pretty much went straight to bed.
Christmas morning we were up fairly early, sat around for a while, then I cleaned out the litter boxes, cleaned up the kitchen, ate a piece of chocolate/ peanut butter bark, and took a shower. We left a few minutes before 8, and were the first people to arrive at Fred’s sister’s house.
They bought their house in the last year, and we hadn’t been inside it yet. It is AMAZING. It is GORGEOUS. It was built in 1918, and Fred was drooling with jealousy. The only downfall is that it’s on a tiny piece of land, located at a very busy intersection in the middle of Huntsville. If it had been situated on, say, 100 acres I imagine Fred would have shot his sister and her husband and stolen their house.
We ate breakfast – you can check Fred’s journal for the difference in store-bought eggs and the ones our girlz provide – and then we had dessert (if you can’t have dessert after breakfast on Christmas, when can you?), which included a fabulous apple tart Fred’s sister’s husband (who is French) made. God, it was good. Those French, they know how to cook!
We sat around, opened presents (a Lowe’s gift card from Fred’s mother and stepfather), talked for a while (we were sitting in a sun room, and god it was a great room. WE NEED A SUN ROOM. BUILD ME A SUN ROOM FRED!), and then headed for home.
We both wanted a nap when we got home, but first Fred had to take leftovers out to the girlz (the girlz enjoyed their biscuits, scrambled eggs, and gravy), then we had presents from my sister and nephew and parents to open. We got gift cards and books and a picture of my grandmother when she was very young, and my sister sent a box of catnip bags for the cats. She got the catnip that filled the bags (which were sewn shut) at the health food store, and that had to be some PRIME stuff, because cats came running from all over the house, and Fred was tossing out the bags to them, and there were cats laying all over the place rubbing on and licking catnip bags. Sugarbutt was drooling all over his, so much that he stained the blanket he was laying on, and I worried for a moment that a cat had sprayed on it, but no. It was just high-as-a-kite Sugarbutt drooling all over the place.
Bob better watch out; he’s going to lose some customers if this keeps up.
After opening our presents, we took a nap accompanied by Punki, who wouldn’t settle down until I sprayed the compressed air at her, and then she settled down right quick.
We spent the afternoon (after our nap) relaxing, and I did some laundry and then we watched TV.
And now life may return to normal, if you please.
This was supposed to be a portrait of a Momma and her Booger. Booger WAS looking at the camera, but then decided to turn and give his Momma a perplexed “What the-?” look.
Since I have nothing else to offer, and I’d like to clear off my memory stick, I offer a ton and a half of pictures for your perusal.
Sleeping Punki Pie.
I think Frick briefly had herself a crush on the new guy. She was following him around an awful lot. Unfortunately, he seems to have an eye for the blondes, and Frick decided she didn’t want any guy who’d have his head turned by those flashy hos, and she lost interest.
Miss Momma likes to spend her days sleeping here. Good thing Fred made those steps for Spot, huh?
There is a basket not four feet away into which Sugarbutt’s butt will comfortably fit. But no. NO. He has to sleep in the basket of toys. Note that at least his nail caps are color coordinated with the wall.
Scruffy Spot.
Pretty Felicia.
She has such pretty eyes.
Da Poo wonders when Nance will come and rescue her from having to share the attention with OTHER CATS. The HORROR.
Princess Poo.
McLovin in the sun.
As long as you’re comfy, Boog.
Poor Frick, she’s so ratty looking. She’s apparently molting.
Newt jumped up on top of the canning cupboard to get away from the other cats. That didn’t last long. I actually put that basket up there because it was in the living room and the cats were chewing on it. So much for that.
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: Such a dork, I am. 2004: I had oyster dressing and mandarin muffins for breakfast yesterday and then again for lunch, and a better Christmas day breakfast does not exist. 2003: Is it a sign of old age that I’m this excited about getting a new vacuum cleaner? 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry. 1999: No entry.]]>