But that's no excuse; the blog must go on! We hope you've been following us on posterous and twitter and facebook; if not see the previous post for super-secret oblique instructions.
Meanwhile, let's get those Xmas memories down before they're trampled on by the Easter Bunny's clumsy feet...
So, snow. Snow and plenty of it. I gather there's been a lot of it about nationwide so probably no sympathy from far-flung quarters but still. We had a genuine blizzard here in Portland and unlike points east and north we're not really equipped for such exigencies. As in, the roads go unplowed for a week and the mail doesn't get delivered. ("Neither Rain, Sleet, Snow...just kidding. See ya after Xmas!)
But I'm getting ahead of myself. At first it was merely picturesque:
But then we got buried:
But it wasn't all bad. Grandpa Doug was in town (and indeed, getting in proved to be significantly easier than getting out).
And Evelyn got to build her first "Frosty" (a.k.a. snowman).
The storm was serious business. A lot of folks were without power for several days. We threw a chain on Rita and had to leave her by the roadside. Funny story: the woman who lives in the house you see there came out and asked us if we needed to borrow a phone when we first got stuck, but then when I went back later to get dad's suitcase she'd gone all cabin-fever psycho and was claiming she'd called the sheriff to have the car towed. If you look very closely at her window you can see a sheet she's hung up along the bottom to *block the view of our car stuck in the snow as she sits in her favorite easy chair dreaming of the triumphant return of Hitler.* Or whatever the hell it is you dream of fondly when you've gone completely psycho and can't understand that 12 inches of snow on unplowed roads may cause a slight disruption of the usual routine. I'm not a revenge-minded person but if I were I'd say she's edged ahead of Cellphone-Guy-Who-Cuts-Me-Off.
Things were so desperate, we put the Old Man to work. No gruel for you until that car is dug out, Jack!
Of course, I'm a Californian at heart and I don't let nothing harsh my mellow:
In the end, dad got back home and we had a white Xmas, just like the ones I used to know.
Then, it was off to Wheaton for Xmas 2.0! And more sketchy weather. It was clear when we got up but by the time we reached the airport it was pelting down silver-dollar-sized snowflakes. We chewed our nails and waited to board the plane then were informed that they were up in the cockpit "doing a lot of calculations to determine if we're safe to take off." At that point I didn't know whether to hope for a yay or a nay. But they burned some fuel off and unloaded some cargo and away we went, for an uneventful (and un-napful) flight.
We had a great time, as we always do. Evelyn was pretty well-behaved. She enjoyed the lion at Grandma Barbara's apartment:
And had a lot of fun with the bathtub versions of Thomas And Friends (which we also used to introduce the game of Hotter And Colder).
At the Xmas party Evelyn looked lovely in the white dress she'd picked out for herself at Naartje (see previous post re: counting mannequins).
We even made it downtown to check out Chicago's famous Bean and visit the Museum. Evelyn particularly enjoyed the chance to build her own Cornell Box (Mom helped with the heavy lifting).
It was a whirlwind. Alas I got *no* pictures of darling niece Smiley (a.k.a. Charlotte). Pre-ambulatory at the time but already up and about in the interim. I was thoroughly charmed and hope I'll have a chance to spend time with her again before she's old enough to see through my charlatanry.
One last hug for the satyr and then it's back on the plane where the iphone (and Ms. Pac-Man) kept the heebie-jeebies to a dull roar until we were back on Terra Firma...
...at which point it was time for More Partying! Brian and Melissa graced us with their presence again and rallied us out and about for a festive New Year's dinner.
B & M are big-time cat fanciers, so Sassy wasn't left out of the festivities.
And then came the Big Poker Game. Things see-sawed back and forth throughout the night until the last hand, when Liz was going to fold in the big blind instead of just calling. I mocked her (soundly I might add) so she stayed in...and wound up felting me with four (count em!) nines. Read 'em and weep, Mikey boy.
All kinds of crazy stuff is afoot here, but it will have to wait for another post. We hope you're holding up in the Worst Economy Ever Since Ever and let's all try to stay optimistic and give our new President the benefit of the doubt for a few months at least.
-- Mike
