Christmas Aftermath

 

Coherent thoughts, complete sentences and meaningful posts will resume once these kids return to school. For the time being, I’m leaning heavily on photos. And a fleeting word or two, in the momentary pause between someone yelling “Mom? Mom! Mommmmm…..Where are you?”

I try to hide. Right now I’m hunkered down behind the bed — sitting on the floor, my laptop tottering on my knees. And I’m typing…. as gently and soundlessly as possible.

But those gremlins always sniff me out. Here comes one now. Thumping up the stairs like a wounded wildebeest, then silent…pausing to listen…before cracking open my bedroom door. Then Thump-Thump-Thump… around the bed and — voila…

…or “viola” as my Dad liked to say…

I’ve been found.

So with that, here are a few holiday photos.

Christmas morning… here’s the typical scene moments before the kids lay a path of destruction.

Note the bailing twine in the top left corner — tethering the tree to the doorway. See, the tree fell down 10 days ago. It was what you’d expect — a hailstorm of ornaments and a peppering of pine needles. But there was an added bonus: all the water in the base spilled out, seeping through the floor boards into the cellar. So that twine is there to prevent a repeat performance.

But this next photo really sums up Christmas morning. After ripping open every present possible, it’s time to build. Assembly required. With a mimosa nearby, of course.

 

 

Christmas Day isn’t complete without a walk up the driveway with Bugsy. We pull the pony from the field, grab the dog and set out. To see the cows.

 

 

The new cows. The previous cattle were loaded up a month ago and —

well… processed.

Here’s the next batch — 26 in all — still skittish and fascinated by the kids-pony-Border Collie freak show.

 

 

Normally, we head up the driveway and bang on Chet’s door. This year we visited the other neighbors. Walked past their chickens, turkeys, Highland cows (mentioned here) and into the barn..

…to see the day-old lamb, cooking beneath a heat lamp.

 

 

We kept our visit brief. The mother sheep wasn’t thrilled to see us. In fact, she looked menacing.

If it’s possible for a sheep to look menacing.

 

“I am going to mess you up,” she seemed to say.

So we hustled out of there. I wouldn’t let the kids get trampled.

Not on Christmas, at least….