Two for Two

There are many posts I'd like to write.

This year, however, my blog is slightly more public.

And though "prudent" isn't a charge usual leveled against me, in this instance I think it's wise to be circumspect.

So inxay on the passive aggressive (though VERY therapeutic) post I wanted to write about those who go around telling everyone how organized they are (though I guess even this sentence is passive aggressive, but seriously, being organized is more than color coded folders and spreadsheets. There's a great deal to be said for flexibility. And that's all I'm going to say about that.)

Double ixnay on the delightful irony that has me attending mass on a nearly daily basis. I've made it to 2 Holy Days of Obligation so far this month. Catholicism for the win!

2 down, 28 more to go.

Here We Go Again

30 days hath November.

Let's see if I can blog for all of them.

La Voiture

Though it may come as a surprise to some, I don't actually know everything.
Fortunately, for those few instances when I have a question I can't answer, I know who to contact.

Like today, on my walk home I passed the most ridiculously looking car...

To: The Cantabridigan
From: Ryan O'Brian
Re: ?
Toyota veneia? Some sort of hybrid SUV station wagon

To: Ryan O'Brian
From: The Cantabridgian
Re ?
Venza. Camry wagon on big wheels. Hellish ergonomics.

13 years since I've had to let an automotive related question go unanswered.
A man among men you are my friend. Or, rather, a Cadillac in a sea of Chevys.

For Baby (For Bobby)

Before the world existed, before it was populated, and before there were wars and jobs and colleges and movies and clothes and opinions and foreign travel—before all of these things there had been only one person [Bobby] and only one place: a tent in the basement made from chairs and bed sheets. [S]he did not consider if or how or why [s]he loved him. He was just love: he was the first evidence of love and he would be the last confirmation of love when everything else fell away.
--Zadie Smith On Beauty

Happy Birthday to my pokey little puppy.
I love you, Sis.

And the Award

For "Guest who Traveled the Furthest" goes to...

Alexander!

Would that Visa could make a commercial of Saturday night!

Invitations for 75 guests: $XXX

Getting childhood photos of your mother blown up to poster size $XXX

Party for 75 at OGC $XXX

Trans-Atlantic Plane Ticket: $XXX

My mother's face when she saw you there: priceless

Way to go, Alexander. I don't care what anyone says about you, you're a keeper!

BEWARE

A little Ides of March fun this rainy Monday morning:

From "Rinse the Blood of My Toga"
CALUPURNIA (that's Mrs Julius Caesar to you and me):

I told him, Julie, don't go. Don't go Julie, I said. Don't go, it's the
Ides of March.

If I told him once, I'd told him a thousand times, Julie, don't go ...

Julie, don't go, I said. It's the Ides of March. Beware already.

FLAVIUS MAXIMUS
(aside)
I don't blame him for going.

Crocus!

All right, so I wasn't exactly wandering lonely as a cloud and crocuses aren't the same sure sign of spring as daffodils, but still! Crocuses! In the front garden! Peaking their little heads out above the snow!

After this winter, I'll take any sign I can get! Roll on spring!

Fritzi Tree

This post is a poll of sorts.

When is it time to take down your Christmas tree or shrub, whatever the case may be?

We put up our tree/shrub/potted plant in mid-December and named him Fritzi. All through Christmas we'd sing to him "O Fritzi Tree." We decorated him with lights and mini candy canes.

After Christmas we began eating the candy canes.

Now it's February and our little Fritzi Tree is naked save for the lights. He is also growing. He sits in our window, gets light all day and loads of water and is sprouting new growth. Seems a shame to put him out in the trash. He's still alive. He still smells like pine. And I love him.

But, really. February. It's getting ridiculous. Not to mention tacky.

Perhaps I can tell people he's a ficus plant?

It's All Fun and Games

...until Ryan loses an eye (or a head or a nose).

This was a grand Christmas. One filled with love and laughter and friends and family.

Sadly, it was also filled with grave injury. First, I was nearly decapitated by a Path train. It was as unpleasant as it sounds. I'm sure one day I'll find it funny, not as funny as a certain someone who shall remain nameless but who was supposed to hold the door and keep it from shutting on my head, but still.

Fortunately I was able to make a swift recovery from nearly losing my head. As you can see from the photo below I regained my usual high spirits and was in fine shape for round 2 of Carlton Christmas Piggy Back Ride Races:


We even got a little creative and added a 3rd party to our race:

All fun and games until the post-race victory celebration got a bit out of hand. I turned cartwheels cross the floor and, feeling rather seasick, decided to take a break and engage the nearest 5 year old in a tickle fight. Said 5 year old retaliated by smashing his noggin into my nose.

I suppose it's just not a family holiday until someone has to go to the ER.