said Tabby, when he called from his exotic location this holiday. I agreed.

We, the Texan contingent of my family, are getting the hang of the turkey and peripherals. We gratefully, and one at a time, took turns opening gifts sent from Mom and Dad in ND. There wasn't much cleanup, as everyone pitched in. After hugging Travis, Nicole and Missy goodbye at the door this afternoon, I perused the multitude of beautiful cards and Christmas letters on the backside of our front door, where we tape them every year.

Boy, those Greek Jersey twins are growing up and beautiful. And just LOOK at Tanya's bunch! It's so much fun to see them fill up my door. I feel so boring, reading some of these letters. We don't have kids to write about. We need to travel more. I DECLARE next year I'm going to write one!

This year's would have looked something like: Got my eyes lasered, went on a cruise, turned 30, brain surgery, and some other stuff. Nicole said I should just mail out a monthly update newsletter, and she'd even pay postage to receive it. Hee. But that's why I have the blog.

I need more hobbies in my life in order to write a Christmas letter. I JUST took on the hobby of SECRET SHOPPER (shhhhh). Amanda said that would be perfect for me, because I have "impossibly high standards."

My next hobbies include art and gardening. Possibly knitting, and for certain windtricity.

Audrea Eunice is the name of my Cabbage Patch Kid, which resides in a box in a closet in one of my rooms in my parents' home.

My father gave her to me for Christmas, whichever year it was that they were the HOT MUST-HAVE GIFT. She had diapers and crackers and a bottle, and all kinds of instructions. I was a good babysitter.

I won two hours early release from work today, so I'm home watching this Triple Extreme Elmo Psychosis on the news, so blissfully happy I don't have to go anywhere to fight for one. I got knocked down for a bridal bouquet once. I'm non-violent, and shop early.

I sat next to Art for six formative, elementary school years. That is just how the seating arrangement worked out every year.

Art told me the space shuttle exploded. I thought he was lying then.

Art told me there was no Santa.

Art knocked me into the snowy pavement one especially cold day, and Crystal took him out, face-first into the playground.

I think I left him closed in a jail cell once when we were playing in kindergarten. If you leave your pals in jail, and they tell you there's no Santa, there just may not be.

"You have incredible hearing for someone whose eardrums don't vibrate."

Alas, I have discovered my Superhero Power. I can hear anything. Mutter not.

It could be a developed power, brought on and babied, years and years, and perhaps still, by the comfort of the Sony MDR V6s. Perfect tweaking can hold your hearing.

I remember being in the studio with Bubba the Love Truck, and the big ol' Sennheiser cans he wore. Poor, ultra-talented Bubba. I miss him.

Don your snuggly-wuggly flannel jammies and grab your hot chocolate and favorite stuffed pony. Gather 'round the fireplace, kids, because it's time for a CHRISTMAS STORY PULLED FROM MY RAVAGED TEMPORAL MEMORY CENTER!

My mom sends out a lot of Christmas cards. Like, a lot. She collects the addresses of everyone she's ever met and once a year, keeps in touch. It's sweet, actually.

One year, Tash was helping us sign the cards. Jeremy and Dad must have been hunting or something. Travis was there. I think he was set at task, folding the Christmas letters that Mom so lovingly and painstakingly had written and printed out, detailing each month of the year. Mom, Tasha, and I were sprawled out on the living room floor, signing the cards over and over.

You really can't drag somebody who isn't completely like family into a chore like this:

After signing, "Curt, Judy, Jeremy, Deanna, and Travis" for so long, Natasha accidentally began adding her own name to the cards... and no one noticed until a few dozen cards later.

Merry Christmas!

Love,
Curt, Judy, Jeremy, Deanna, Travis, and Natasha

There would have been some 'splaining to do that New Year.

I have that obscure ring on my phone. The one no one else seemed to choose, according to everyone around me, who cannot find the button to mute or vibrate their phone during workday hours, which would just be courteous.

I digress.

This afternoon, I was sitting in a small room. Through a wall, I heard MY RINGTONE. Freaked me out, because I was almost asleep leaning on my knuckles while waiting for an appointment.

Now, knowing it's out there in the world, that I am spreading the Princess Tones, as Kristen called them, and that my happy little fantasy ringtone is becoming common, I have to download Lowrider again.

I breezed to the second floor to fill my adorable new travel mug with the little French bakers all over it and "joie de vivre" with fresh coffee from the cafeteria kitchen, and when I got in there...

There were two people running hither and to, trying to clean up this MESS, because the industrial coffeemaker was not STOPPING, thereby OVERFLOWING the pot. Even after being UNPLUGGED, it was undeterred. The mighty river of hot, black coffee threatened the conference room on the other side of the kitchen, when I grabbed a roll of paper towels and began my efforts to dam.

Well, DAM IT ALL. Thank God I was wearing black.

My lesson here is... for trying to help in a frantic crisis, I got to smell like coffee all day. Yay.

From Bali to Cali - far beneath the Coral Sea.
We can sail, we can sail
Sail away , Sail away, Sail away

My buddy Tabby is getting his doctorate in coral reef preservation. As it turns out, the "rainforests of the sea" are partially responsible for the amount of CO2 in our atmosphere, and they're dying. Pretty soon, that means an even faster melting of Antarctica and Greenland. Shortly, places we all care about may have to be abandoned while we all set up our new oceanfront condos at the very tippy-tops of the Rocky Mountains.

I'm so glad Travis came to stay with us when he did. I think a little bit of hippie awareness, in these times, just might be good for us all. I wasn't expecting to be here and need it any longer, so I didn't make plans, but everybody has to do a little, and maybe we can hang on a bit longer to this Island Earth.

Shut lights off when you leave a room.

My next car will be E85-friendly, to support the Ethanol plant in my teensy hometown in ND!

Recycle. Recycle everything you can. You will have almost no trash if you recycle your paper, plastic and cans.

Use a hand-powered lawnmower like in the old Archie comics. No kiddin'. They still sell 'em! Great workout!

Shower with a friend.

Global Warming. That's what's got me freaked out today.

Boy, THAT was a good time. Two hours in the local grocery store, and there is actually food in this house.

See, Erik and I were still shopping like single people. We'd go once a week or so, and pick up some Fresca, some green beans, whatever we thought we might have for dinner THAT PARTICULAR NIGHT.

NUH UH. Today, we made a LIST, like responsible, ORGANIZED people. There were two carts, a FLAT of green beans, and that bunch of stuff you buy when you want to actually stock your kitchen, to be able to bake something, like, oh, say, chocolate-chocolate chip muffins, to make the house all cozy-feeling on a COLD WINTER'S NIGHT. And, perhaps if I got lonesome for my baby brother, I'll make dinner on Sunday.

For those local, now that I'm on a baking streak, I'm going to start some of that Amish Friendship Bread. I will hook you up with a starter, and because it's fun, you can go crazy and make, like, three dozen blueberry muffins.