Christmas 2007

...was pretty good. Despite many social obligations and a ton of driving, there are lots of people I didn't get to see, and places I didn't get to go, and I apologize if you're on that list. But everywhere we went and everyone we saw made us forget about the buttload of stress we've been carrying around since the beginning of the month.

You'll pardon me if this post tends to ramble a bit: I'm listening to a whackload of Brad Paisley as I write this, and so far every single song I've heard distracts me at least a little. Some of them lift me right out of the blog...hell, right out of the room. Maybe writing a blog to musical accompaniment isn't such a good idea...but hey, it's Boxing Day, we've survived the storm and strife of another Stressember, and I'm indulging myself.

I guess the music is where I'll start. This has been an exceptionally musical season: the iTunes cards from my loving wife provided me with four (count 'em) Brad Paisley albums, to go with the one I already had. I can't praise this artist enough. Not only is he my favourite country singer, he's probably my favourite musical act, ever, period.

Then there's the discs from my folks: Maroon 5's It Won't Be Soon Before Long and a Gordon Lightfoot box set. I'd never even heard of, let alone heard, Maroon 5 before yesterday...and was quite frankly stunned to find I like them quite a bit. As for Gordon Lightfoot, he's long been a favourite of mine...and I'm happy to have pretty much his career output here in one place, now.

Not quite music, but related: browsing the iTunes store, I was astonished (and ecstatic) to learn that the Vinyl Cafe is finally a podcast...not just a podcast, but the most popular podcast in Canada last week. Most of the people I know have never heard of Dave and Morley, Stephanie and Sam...and all I can say is how lucky all you folks are to have that experience ahead of you.

We reaped a whirlwind of gifts this year, all of it much appreciated...but when I look back on this Christmas, the gifts will be very much secondary to the atmosphere, the laughter, the love shared with family and friends. Which is what Christmas is supposed to be all about, right?

Eva and I made our annual Christmas trip up north last weekend. For once, the weather co-operated: nary a snowflake in sight going or coming (in fact, we could have floated back home, for all the rain).

Once at Rose Point, we found Jessie and his friend Maggie bellying up to the bar:

Two buds with their Buds

After a few rounds, the two pals decided to go out and terrorize the Christmas village:

Wolves at the door!

Some of the family weren't able to make it up this year, and they were missed. But we did get to see my step-bro Robbie, his friend Mihaela, and her daughter Lia, and together they added a great deal of merriment to the place. And dinner was magnificent, as it always is up there.

What was that about a long winter's nap?

I went into work on Monday, Christmas Eve, expecting Armaggeddon. As it turned out, the day was remarkably slow, almost dead, in fact. Once that shift was over, I came home to our puppies and awaited Eva, who had gone to see her parents.

Her parents are right at the top of that list I referred to. I haven't seen them in two years now: I think they must believe I'm imaginary at this point. Something always comes up: I either have to work, or have to stay here and take care of Tux and Georgia. Ah, well. Next year. Somehow.

My parents--my Mom and John, I mean, now (it gets confusing, I know)--2007 was the year we put estrangement firmly in the past and commited to a new, healthy relationship. They showered us with gifts this year, but never mind all that: I'm just happy to have them back.

Eva came home 'round eleven Christmas Day and since then we've had (almost) uninterrupted relaxation. Our gifts to each other over the past few years have been rather modest: we've established a Boxing Day tradition of hitting someplace frightfully early and getting one big family gift. This year it was Canadian Tire and an electric fireplace.

Laugh if you want, but this thing's ideal for this house: better than the real thing. A real fireplace, see, puts out heat, which Eva carries around internally in abundance 24/7. With this baby, the heat's optional: in fact, if you turn the temp all the way down, something akin to cold air comes streaming out. A cold fire. I do believe Eva has killed people trying to extract that particular secret. The dogs haven't quite figured out what to do with this thing. I can only hope they'll learn to toast themselves, because that's one of my archetypal images of home sweet home: self-toasting dogs stretched out, filling the hearth and heart.

And now: the World Junior opening game (yet another Boxing Day tradition), followed by a Leaf game. I'm in my comfies and I plan to stay that way for the rest of the day. Happy Boxing Day, everyone. Nobody ever wishes you that, and they should. It's a day off, after all.