
Midnight ramblings, borrowed laptop, legitimate wi-fi. Progress!
Yeah, I know. Phoning it in- and I hate seeing the quality of my posts and writing suffer- and yet, the alternative (not documenting my life or what’s going on) seems like an abdication. Born a blogger, eh? Don’t expect a Pulitzer this month…
Sorry no pictures yet- I HAVE taken them, but I can’t figure out how to get them from my camera into my mom’s computer. Ah, the perils of being tech-lame. Mo is rolling her eyes.
Grandma took the boys bowling today, and it would appear Rock-n-Bowl is the hot new thing. Grandma thinks Jeffrey might have a future in bowling, Beanie bounced his ball a couple of time and they all came home with little bowling Santa ornaments for the tree.
We had a chaotic but fun dinner at my adoptive Aunt’s house tonight. It was six boys seven and under, and Abby. She wore her new Christmas dress from Grandma and even had silver bows tied to her piggy tails, while she schooled those boys on how to stomp around and have a grand old time.

My cousin Naun made the most awesome hot spinach salad, with prosciutto, Gorgonzola, onions and portobello boomers. Make a dressing of hot balsamic vinegar, honey and olive oil. Oh yeah… I pretty much skipped the lasagna and pigged out on salad and garlic pugliese. Oh, how I love California.
The kids had hot dogs and ketchup.
Monday I get to hide from the kids and meet up with Bek, from Ignore the Crazy. I’ve known Bek for years, but we haven’t had the chance to hang out since I crashed my moms car two summers ago. We’re going out to dinner, sans kiddos, and getting mannis and pedis. Hate me if you must. I can take it.
I keep hearing rumors we have almost 30″ of snow at home. I wonder when we’ll be able to even get home, if this keeps up. I did get a call from my mother in law, who went to take our mail in, that someone had come over and shovelled our entire driveway, walk, and porch. I don’t even know who to thank. That seems to be a refrain in my life these days- kind people doing things, and not knowing for whom to be grateful.
I got to hang out with my brother at his work today. As I watched him tip back on his chair while we talked, I was overwhelmed by what a good man he has become. We named Beanie after him, and if my son grows up to be like uncle Eric, I’ll slap my hands together and call it a job well done.
I’m hoping I get to see my other brother too. His life path is a little more colorful right now, but I still miss seeing him. You out there, man? Call your sister!
My goal for tomorrow is to get the pictures into the computer. Somehow. I know it must be possible… right?
I miss Crazy Chicken Annie. One of the dangers of having a relative named Crazy Chicken Anything is that sometimes, things don’t go the way you want them to go. And sometimes, you hope showing up on a doorstep with some gingerbread and a ball of organic yarn is enough of a peace offering. One can hope.
Cousin Heather just got back from a whirlwind trip, by herself, all over southeast Asia. Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos… she’s my hero.
As much as I love Fakey Fakerson waiting for me at home, I adore that one of my mom’s tress is the Real Deal. The smell… The smell? She is divine.
Merry Christmas, and Happy first night of Hanukkah, too, for anyone out there who celebrates that tradition. I have a menorah and a kosher pack of beeswax candles I’ve been storing. I want so badly to use them and do Hanukkah, but I feel like such a farce. It’s not my tradition to co-opt, just because I think it’s cool. And so they sit, in Phoebe the Buffet, and there they stay.
Is anyone else out there creeped out by the old Frosty the Snowman cartoon?