A Message From The East

We've been here two days.

The family is great. The women have been cooking since they crossed the threshold. The garage is the designated cold room, and inside there on a groaning table sits seven kinds of pie, a spread of foil-covered casserole platters, and bottles of soda, beer, soy milk, and eggnog.

The skies are clear, tempatures fair. We have about six inches of snow left on the lawn from last week's storm. Rain forecast for tomorrow.

All the presents are bought. We will be wrapping tonight, but there are NO bicycles to assemble. The snake has been fed. There are no youngers still pensive of Doing The Wrong Thing and somehow causing Santa to pass us by.

This house is full of love, none the less. All except the corner where the dining tables are shoved together in an "L" shape. That's where the Uno game is going hot and heavy, and sometimes the nieces and nephews learn new words. All in good fun, though. "You BASTARD!" can in fact be said in the holiday spirit.

Notes:

(1) I've seen more "Bush 04" stickers here than I ever did in Utah.
(2) The only sidewalk argument I've seen outside a mall was between two folks standing behind a car plastered with "No More BUSHit" stickers and a full-poster board panel "Bush Must GO!!!" sign in the back window.

Most unhappy folk. Dropping the "F" bomb and not following up with the blow is such bad form. Words mean things.

(3) Ended up behind a car on the 3 with a bumper-length bumpersticker. It read "Hey, peaceniks: You're supposed to support OUR troops, not the other side, you ungrateful bastards!" - plus a smaller one on the window that read "No oil for pacifists".

I LIKE New Hampshire. I haven't been able to run down Mark Steyn yet, but I understand he travels a lot.

Mrs. Tmj and I are taking a drive up the coast on Monday unless the weather just crushes us.

Merry Christmas!