Okay. New computer not fixed, after all. Sigh. I am not downloading pictures onto the old computer. It takes far too long.
Christmas? Oh. It was great. Really very nice. Dylan worked overtime to get a water plant back up and running before he left. He got off work at 2:30, and then tossed his bag in the back of his Jeep and headed home, hitting our driveway at about 8 AM, much to everyone's surprise. He did not go to bed. Instead, he went shopping with his sister. By the time that he got home with her, he was about comatose. He slept for a couple hours and then drifted down to the sofa where he lay in a strange dazed state. We all flopped down to watch a video, just to keep coma-boy company. We watched Flight 93. That was not a movie for Christmas eve, actually. I cried, and had to head to the kitchen to make some egg nog. Dylan, Cara, and Tim began to plan what they would do if their plane was hijacked. Cara believes that you should always carry a sock full of change for just such an emergency. She is of the belief that if you swing a sock full of change full circle and land it against somebody's head, you could do damage. Seemed like it could work. She had taken a self defense class and waxed forth on the weapons you could make from the simple items in your purse. I am now afraid of Cara. In any case, the Christmas eve passed in a blur of terrorist fighting conversation. Everyone agreed that if you let terrorists in the cockpit, you've already lost the fight. So.
I was coming down with the miserable cold. In the season of sharing, Dylan and Cara now have it. We got up Christmas morning, snuffly and miserable (but of a shared opinion on the handling of any terrorists who might attempt to hijack our festivities). Buddy and Brianna came, and Mike, and we had breakfast. 'Everything omelets', hashbrowns, sausages, waffles, and popovers. Popovers are a simple treat:
1 1/2 cup of flour
1 1/2 cup of milk
1 teas of salt
3 tablespoons butter
Beat everything together with a mixer. Bake at 425 degree oven for 20-30 minutes until brown on top. And if you take these out of the oven, and a huge blop of homemade jam falls square in the middle of them, this is not a bad thing.
Anyhow, we had a big breakfast, and then we unwrapped gifts. It was fun, and family, and lots of laughing.
I got dangly earrings. A new bird feeder. A painted slate. A new crockpot. Picture frames. Snicker bars. A gift card.
We had a ham dinner, simple, really, with homemade rolls fresh out of the oven, and mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn. Christmas cookies for dessert.
We all sprawled around and watched Harry Potter 28. (Really? Only 6 so far?!!!! Oh...).
And then Tim read the internet news reports to us about the terrorist who tried to blow up the plane outside of Detroit. Dylan then demonstrated how a simple winter scarf could be used as a weapon against terrorists. Cara then spent the rest of the night kicking and slapping her brother. Now I am afraid of both Dylan and Cara.
We all went to bed that night, happy, well fed, and amply prepared to deal with terrorists.