You Know What Part

"Let us think the unthinkable, Let us do the undoable, Let us prepare to grapple with ineffable itself, And see if we may not eff it after all." Douglas Adams

The Christmas Post

I almost neglected to put up The Christmas Post; my apologies. (And, my apologies for all the semi-colons tonight; that one was on purpose.)

Christmas was wonderfully dull. After opening our gifts at home (and after smoked salmon and capers on cream-cheese-topped crackers), we got ready to head out.

We were supposed to have the day to ourselves in our new house, but we got invited to J–‘s folks place at the sort of last minute and headed over there around lunch. In the long run, it was a good thing because, as J– remarked, Christmas doesn’t feel right until you have to schlep your way to someone else’s house, which is so true it makes you want to laugh.

So, we do the parent thing, complete with uncomfortable conversation and then head home.

J– outdid herself again this year, blowing past our pre-set limits without nary a glance at the total line. Not that I’m complaining, but I think the limit thing is starting to look like a Michigan speed limit: merely a suggestion. And with what wonderful item did she heap shame upon my head for not having gifts in king? This puppy: the I’m-Such-A-Nerd, Alton Brown edition Shun 8″ Chef’s knife. The blade is at a 10 degree angle which is supposed to be an effort saver, but I have to relearn the knife anyway after the disaster my knife skills have become after years of using my other set, so the angle isn’t any more strange than having a good knife again would have been. But boy, is it going to be nice to have a good blade again; I had to cut an onion just to try it out and it was.. ok.. you know what.. I’m geeking out on a knife. Had I even the skill to work under a chef, I would have something to stand on, but I don’t so, this is just kind of sad, actually.

I also got a lump of coal in my stocking. Not sure what to make of that.

But, a good Christmas around here. The pets did well; Froggie has destroyed two of his three new toys already, which is a record even for him. We go to the West side over New Years. Can you feel the excitement?