HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!!

The Christmas miracle kitty is home! And I got a camera! With its own cord! I love the holidays.

Solstice and Perry

Every winter Solstice, my family gathers in the living room by the lit fireplace and eats cookies, receives an ornament, and writes poetry about the year gone by. It's nice, rather quaint tradition, and according to my mother it originated when I was little, because right before Christmas is when toddlers start to go a little bonkers. Solstice is a nice quiet holiday to calm down. My little brother wrote short three-lined poems with the last lines as questions, my little sister did an acrostic and writing couplets, my mother wrote an eerie winter poem, I wrote poems about the Amnesty Inc. pen that I kept breaking and our tree angel, and my dad wrote a narrative poem about how he gave $20 dollars to a needy man with the requirement that he spend it on his infant son, and then later saw him buying diapers. We each received an ornament and enjoyed s'mores.

Then, Wednesday morning, I called the cats for breakfast and Perry didn't come. I finally found him in his hut by the window, but he showed no interest in eating. He vomited several times and meowed whenever anyone tried to pick him up, so my parents took him to the vet. The vets thought he had swallowed thread or floss, so my dad drove him to a specialty vet an hour or so away. Then we went through our usual business, watching the telly, trying to write this blog post (it's been three days), and cleaning. (My room currently leaves much to be desired.) So they went into surgery, opened up his stomach, and lo and behold. . . PERRY HAS A HOLE IN HIS INTESTINAL WALL! It was something he was born with, but that did nothing to prevent my mother from removing all the tinsel and obsessively picking up fragments. All in good reason, of course. Perry is recuperating and is expected home today--we hope. If not, we go visit him with chicken baby food.

Happy Holidays!

Guilt: is not refreshing. Stupid nonexistent proverb.

Does anyone remember that time I accused you lot of going on vacation without a computer? And it was (widely) true? I now realize how annoying that is. (No, not me, the non-electric trip.)

In school I made a plush penguin. It's blue and pretty cute. Of course, since I had to go on my trip, all I did was drive home from school, "HeyPetetakethisandfamilymissyoulove
youwherearemybooksonfashionablefeminismandAgathaChristieohthereseeyabye--",
drove to my friend's, walked around, and then drove for a good long while. More on that later. (Very, very long posts this week.)

So I text home to catch up and find that Peter has named my neat cute penguin Senor Penguin (again, photo cord) and takes him everywhere, from breakfasts of sardines to forgetting him in bed/in the couch/at the mercy of Perry. I then came home at 5:12 to find the much loved Senor Penguin pilled and smudged, but he did accompany Peter everywhere, so.

How's that for the (grateful) Christmas Spirit?

Snow and Advent!

So, I was sick for two days, and then today stood in 29 degree weather for forty-five minutes, sat still for five hours, and. . . SNOW!!!

Photos tomorrow, hopefully, plus advent pictures!!!

Two Days of Flabbergastednessosity

The weird set-up for November has led to an odd advent, in which today is the first Sunday of Advent but not December yet. So I am rushing about, wondering when we should buy our tree (this Wednesday, hopefully), how on earth other people already have theirs (gasp), and basically being a bother. Anyway, I shall try to show you all some pictures of my doings once they are done.

But until then, we shall wait (and drink tea and eat cookies and read magazines!)

'Twas the day before Thanksgiving. . . .

'Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, may nary a mouse;
A decorated mantle designed with care,
In hopes that many eyes would rest upon there;
The children were rushing upstairs to make beds,
As visions of whipped cream circled their heads;
Everything must be put away--even that cap!
But do not touch the kitties, asleep where they nap,
Do not run in front of me or there will be a clatter,
As I drop all my dishes and ask what's the matter.
Clean them up now, quick as a flash,
And do put away that old doll sash.
Malls and fake trees adorned with snow
And sparkling fake presents laying below,
It's not Christmas yet, yet these things do appear,
Like the blow-up Santa and electric reindeer,
But back to the chores, quick quick quick,
There are still six days until those of St. Nick.
But in twenty-nine hours the guests shall have came,
From where, we care not; let's just hope we remember their name;
Not Dasher, not Dancer, not Prancer nor Vixen
Not Comet, not Cupid, not Donner nor Blitzen.
Pay no attention to the reindeer names on the wall
Not sensible names for such sensible people--all
Have names like Bernard, now let a few more fly,
Auntie Gertrude, Cousin Wilbur (the one obsessed with the sky)
Every time he comes over he tells us how he flew,
And we smile and nod, like we think it's true too.
Now take this broom and go up on the roof
There shall not be a single marking, by my hoof.
To check what you've done, I shall be coming around,
Now leap up there--no ladder, just bound!
No, I am not crazy, and I could care less about your foot,
Just elevate it and stay away from the chimney soot;
If you track it in--well, just watch your back,
We're going to need guest rooms for guests to unpack.
And lots of hors d'oeuvres to keep them all merry!
If you are hungry, you may eat the last molding cherry.
Now hang up the cornhusk wreath and tighten the bow,
And please do something about all that fake snow.
When you're done with that, you may brush your teeth,
Wait! Come back! You're not done with the wreath!
And again I do not care about your big empty belly,
I gave you a cherry--you may not have a peanut butter and jelly!
Do put away that inflatable elf,
I've hardly the time do do anything myself;
With all of these jobs and my poor aching head--
If you said what I think you said you'd better be full of dread.
Why are we still talking? Now, get back to work!
How dare you not take off your shoes inside! Jerk!
And while I'm on the subject, the next time you blow your nose
Please stop using my favorite box (the one with the rose)
When you're up on the roof and you hear this whistle,
Come down quick or I'll poke you with a thistle.
Now everything's perfect--everything in my sight,
Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night!