Moonset early this morning, if you look close at the bottom right of the picture you can even see Venus.
This evening we all headed off to Mom & Dad's for Christmas Eve together. I didn't take many photos but the few good ones are here. Walter looking totally mischievous; Mom behind the camera as usual; and Tim refusing to take a good picture.
Dean brought Sean over to the house this evening after spending the evening with LG and the rest of the family. We did a little more gift opening at Walter's. Sean really liked the camera that he received from Mamaw & Papaw.
On the way home I was able to get another good photo of the full moon.
Email & Newsletter Gleanings:Santa A Guy?
I think Santa Claus is a woman....
I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!
For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they--with amazing calm--call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.
Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman.
Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.
Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted, and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh, amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.
Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.
Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.
Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:
- Men can't pack a bag.
- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened, having to be seen with all those elves.
- Men don't answer their mail.
- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."
- Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.
Not a chance.
Airport Mistletoe
It was the beginning of December. The trip had gone reasonably well, and he was ready to go back. The airport on the other hand had turned a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas carols.
Being someone who took Christmas very seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good mood.
Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw hanging mistletoe. Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the flatter and "pointier" parts, that could be taken for mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way.
With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the attendant, "Even if I were not married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly mockery of mistletoe."
"Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is." (pause)
"Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the place you'd have to step forward for a kiss."
"That's not why it's there." (pause)
"Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"
"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."
Christmas Card Blues
I was taking a shower when my 2-year-old son came into the bathroom and wrapped himself in toilet paper.
Although he made a mess, he looked adorable, so I ran for my camera and took a few shots.
They came out so well that I had copies made and included one with each of our Christmas cards.
Days later, a relative called about the picture, laughing hysterically and suggesting I take a closer look.
Puzzled, I stared at the photo and was shocked to discover that in addition to my son, I had captured my reflection in the mirror --- wearing nothing but a camera!
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