We are still receiving Christmas cards, although it is late January.
Not that I’m complaining; I love Christmas cards! I also have a fun way of preserving cards every year. (
Click here if you’re interested in that craft idea.) So, the more cards, the better, in general.
This particular Christmas card was forwarded from our old address in Alaska:
Little Girl was super excited to see this fancy envelope in the pile of mail.
“Is that from Hogwarts?!” she exclaimed.
Aw. I hated to tell her that it wasn’t. After all, she’s turning eleven this year. (And so is her twin brother, actually.) If there were such a place as Hogwarts, this would be the year for the letter.
I’m afraid this is going to be a disappointing year for Little Girl.
Thanks for ruining my kids’ eleventh birthday year, J.K. Rowling….
I was making a little speech about how I feel children should be treated like real people, instead of talked down to.
“I never lie to my kids,” I declared.
My husband, observing this bit of pomposity on my part, coughed dryly into his hand and muttered, “Santa Claus.”
Well, that puts me in my place, doesn’t it?
Maverick Philosopher )
My little boy didn’t want to share his new toy with his two-year-old cousin.
He gave it to me to hold and keep safe.
He said, “I trust you with this because I’ve never seen you spoil anything.
Except when you’re cooking.”
Wow. Thanks, son!
In this completely empty restaurant….
Why is THIS the only table i really want to sit at?
Alaska is a beautiful place, but sometimes I miss the conveniences of “The Lower 48,” as we say here.
Earlier I wrote about my troubles retrieving my mail, but there are other things I’m not used to.
Another thing that’s weird at my house is that we don’t have trash pickup. We have to haul our own trash to the dump.
Now I know this shouldn’t be a big deal, but it’s still strange to me to load up my trash in the car and drive away with it.
One good thing is, since it’s so cold out, there’s no bad smell at the dump.
As my husband pointed out: Frozen trash doesn’t stink.
I’m not sure how it will be in summer, though…
I got the following text from my fifteen-year-old:
That was a weird exchange, but I’m just glad I didn’t have to actually do anything.