Showing posts with label and grows fat. Show all posts

There were so many things I was going to post about this Christmas. There was the year we took the Big Guy ice skating back when he was a Medium Guy. It was one of those temporary outdoor rinks with the waist high wall around it. We wrestled those sharp things onto his feet (what were we thinking?) and watched with tender pride as he ventured forth, then flopped over the wall, his feet slipping out behind him in some kind of involuntarily ballet (of the comic variety) while he said over and over “Must. Not. Die. Must. Not. Die.” It was one of those times I deeply regretted not bringing the video camera with me (who can blame me? It was one of those VHS kind that weighs a ton and is roughly the size of a bread box).

Then there were the amusing lists about nothing less than amusing Christmas lists, (for one) and ways I have spoiled Christmas for my family (for another). There were so many list ideas. I don’t know where they all went when it was time to sit down and type. And here we are, a day away from Christmas Eve and so much left unsaid and undone (which reminds me, will someone come over and clean my house? Before tomorrow night? No? No takers? Anyone? . . .)

Meanwhile, I would like to draw your attention to the fact that I won a most auspicious prize at the blogspot of the amusing James the other day for nothing less than knowing the words of one Charles Dickens. James is a new blogger and a pretty funny one, as is his wife, Rebecca. It isn’t often one encounters a male blogger, especially one who is so witty a la Miss D (for whom he gives a plug—I know! How cool is that?) so check it out!

Lastly, as my Christmas gift to you, I am going to forego blogging tomorrow. Yep, you heard it! No post from me. Go forth and be free!