How the Grinch tried to steal Christmas

The Grinch tried his best to steal Christmas this year. He didn't mess around. No Sir. First, he booby trapped the bathroom. He slicked up the tub so when I stepped in to take a shower I was six feet of arms and legs up in the air and flat on my back before I knew what was happening. I'm well padded in the behinder region so no harm no foul on that one. Nice try Grinchy. Next on the list was making the store so busy Mama Joe couldn't get home until almost 3:30. We were supposed to be in CA by 6:30, but with a nearly four hour drive, that wasn't going to happen. Besides being behind schedule, the drive was made even more pleasant by the bickering boys and a carsick dog. We were all carsick by the time we got there, but the dog was the only one to throw-up. Thanks Foof, for the foul smelling final two hours. We made it to our destination in one piece, if not a little tense, and enjoyed Christmas Eve with lots of relatives. Oh, but did I mention I was finishing one of my Christmas gifts while we were driving to CA? No pressure, I just needed to crochet a simple pair of mittens. It's not that I put it off until the very last minute. It's just that the first pair kept growing. They were like arm warmers by the time I was done. It's possible that I miss-read the pattern. Maybe.
Christmas morning went well. The dinner disaster was all mine. Just remember to check the expiration date on your yeast when making a triple batch of rolls. If you want them to rise beyond the size of golf balls, that is. Otherwise feel free to make fifty hockey pucks. I did.
So he tried his best to steal Christmas, but the Grinch didn't know what he was up against. There's no competing against this guy:

I'm An AUNT!

He's finally here! Quentin Lee Marquez, 6.14lbs, and 20.5 inches. They were doing yard work yesterday and having babies today. Crazy kids.

He-man Women Hater's Club

Remember the Little Rascals and their He-man Women Hater's club? I think Ross and some of his cronies are trying to re-create it at Santiam High School. Their version: The Santiam Man Club. Ha! I think they need shirts or badges at the very least.
I believe it took no less than three meetings of the man club before it was infiltrated by the superior sex. (That's right, I went there.) I know for a fact, three girls were given honorary membership to the latest meeting of the "club."
Actually, the whole thing is pretty cool. Ross and two other teachers decided to use their Fridays off to take some of the "fall between the cracks" type kids on day hikes. They hike two to five mile trails into various lakes and waterfalls a short driving distance from the school.

Here are some pictures from their escapades.



These first two are from Square Pond on the Pacific Crest Trail.


These two are from this December at Silver Creek Falls.

Cheers, Man Club. :)

Goodies

The secret to candy making is this:
If you can make it look pretty in it's package, it doesn't matter how it tastes.



Are you with me?

So even though the snickerdoodles are burnt, the truffles are questionable, and the fudge is...well, a little grainy, nobody should notice.

Right?...Anybody?

Rite of Passage

Or is it Wright of passage?

Anyway, the guys tell me I graduated into a real PE teacher this week. I am now allowed into the inner circle. (I'm not sure I want to be here. Those guys tend to stink up their inner circles.) It only took me three and a half years. Had I known all I needed to do was make a kid throw up, I would have "arrived" a lot sooner.

Christmas "baking"

It's the process and the tradition, not the outcome of Christmas baking, right? Right? I had a long weekend of Christmas "baking," but not much in the way of results. I have about three less pounds of butter in my freezer - three more pounds on my hips...okay booty. It's important to taste test at every stage...several times. So far I also have one batch of rocky road, one batch of penuche fudge, one batch of pecan clusters, and six loaves of bread. Two burnt pots, no successful toffee, a dirty floor, sticky counters, a sink loaded with dishes, and tired feet. But I think I'm ready to go back for more - baking, not taste testing. Maybe both. No. Yes. We'll see. Ahhh!

5 days

Only five days of work left until Christmas break! I'm not counting...yes I am.

Postal

There's this little Post Office near where I work that makes me feel like I've stepped into an episode of Seinfeld or some other bizarre reality every time I walk through the door. It is where the term "postal" was coined. I don't go there often if I can help it, but when I do, the women behind the counter never fail to be grouchy (they honestly scare me a little), and the very room seems to be angry. The converted office space is just kind of thrown together all gallywampus (it's a Rogue River term). I always want to clean and organize for them while I'm waiting in line. There used to be a sign on the front door that read "Yes, this is a real Post Office." Everything in the room comes with a sign printed off on computer paper. Hanging from the ceiling on a rope: "Begin line to left of counter." Evidently, lining up is really confusing for people because there are lots of signs about that. "Wait at yellow line." "For the privacy of our customers, don't cross line until called." "No talking on cell phones at counter." Then there are the other random ones around the room. "Do not allow children to handle cards." "No food or beverages inside." I mean, all of this stuff makes sense, but do you really have to post dingy looking signs telling people what should be pretty commonsense? Maybe people do need it spelled out, but every sign they post is negative.
I especially like the memorabilia for purchase. Instead of "Life is Good" t-shirts, they have "Life is Crap" shirts. I'm not even kidding. All of the postal workers were wearing them. No, not really. They also had "Aprons with Attitude" hanging around the store. These had uplifting quotes like, "If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen." I'm not sure if the store is grumpy because of the personalities who work there or if the people who work there are grumpy because they have to come to work each day in such a grumpy store.

There was Thanksgiving Day...

...and then there was Turkey Day.

Turkey and grouse that is, and Youk is thinking he'd like to bite that bird's head off.

The boys all went hunting the day after Thanksgiving, and my boy brought back the bacon...turkey. Although, we're still a little unsure if he actually shot it or if they just picked it off the grill of the truck. Story has it, they did a lot more "hunting" from the road, than actual tromping through the woods - kind of a glorified Sunday drive.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was a family affair as usual. We spent the holiday at my aunt's house and feasted in fine fashion on fancy foods until we were full.
Here's a look at some of the spread:


"Bobbi and Ross, say cheese...y." You probably presume we planned this perfectly peachy pose, but it was impromptu.

Following dinner was a delicious, delightful, and delectable dozen desserts.

Dad needed just one more taste.


Obviously baby bellies all around. Mine was a turkey baby. Mom's was a potato baby. Shae's may have just been a boy baby, but I'm betting a buck that her belly was bursting from dinner too.

Her baby will be here in six weeks. So we practiced our breathing together too. Except Mom, we're not really sure what she was doing, but it makes me laugh. It's a little cartoonish, and it's my favorite.

That's all.

More about Turkey Day - not to be confused with Thanksgiving (Jessica) in my next post.