Halloween, 2011

This year, Ashley and I spent the Halloween weekend with Weilok and Arasin. They had volunteered to do a children's Halloween party on one of the American Air Force Bases. This was Ashley's first time doing many things (going onto an American Air Force Base, going to the American grocery store, and an American Halloween Party) since moving to the UK. I think she was a bit overwhelmed. She cried in the middle of the grocery store (which, in her defense, was exactly the same thing that I did the first time I went,) oogled everything, and commented over and over about how everyone sounded. It was rather sweet.

At the party, Ashley was in charge of the camera for all but the start of the evening. She was dressed in garb (instant costume!) I grabbed a quick picture...

I was dressed as a pregnant rabbit. Not that inspiring, but to be honest I wasn't really feeling the Halloween costume love. Nothing fits, nothing is comfortable. This was the best I was willing to do. You can, however, see the baby bump rather clearly.

Rayanne (dressed as Madame Dragonfly) and I were doing a booth at the party. We were happily sticking children's hands into gooey pumpkin guts and making them guess what they were feeling. For their bravery, they got candy. There was much silliness.

Baby squirmed all night. Lately, the tiny kicks and punches that we used to feel have become massive twisting, squirming, rolling monster movements. It looks very much like my belly is a curtain, and we are all standing on the outside watching someone behind the curtain rolling and kicking at it. I wonder who that person is and what they are like ALL the time.

I think we are coming to the point that all of us are ready to be done with this pregnancy and move on to the having a baby bit. I feel like a house. I am /so slow/ and bending over for anything is difficult. Sleeping... heh, who sleeps?

Realistically, though, things are going so much more smoothly than I expected they would. I am healthy and feeling good, all things considered. Baby is happy and growing. Stephen and Ashley are happy and not growing. And only 7 more weeks to go. Bring it on. :)

One Year Later

Firstly, wow, it has been a very long time since the last post and so much has happened. Well, I guess not anything too exciting 'cause we'd have blogged it, right ... right?

The last post was about chickens ... they're gone now. No, we didn't slaughter them, they just got bigger and we couldn't keep them where we are so they went to a good home with a friend of Amy's. We have visited them a few times since, and one of them did make it to dinner - but the others are still going strong. The girls are laying eggs, and very nice indeed they are too.

So, other news? I started a new job last Monday. I'm still doing similar things, just at another place. It does involve commuting to London but after commuting costs I am earning fractionally more each month.

Amy applied for and received Indefinite Leave to Remain a few weeks ago (fast tracked as she's visiting the US this summer). Ashley is in the process of applying for her ILR (slow-track due to no going-away-urgency and as it is cheaper) and we're fully expecting that to be granted.

Oh, and Amy is pregnant (yes, it's mine, not the milkman's) and is due late December.

Today...

...was the first day the chickens spent the whole day outside.

This is the result of Stephen and I noticing that they are getting a bit big for their inside ... um... coop? house? playspace? brooder? apple shaped children's sandpit? Anyway, if they had a mom chicken, she would be taking them outside for most of the time now, teaching them how to fend for themselves and all. So we decided that they need to spend more time outside free ranging in the back garden on days we are home. More space, less mess, and chickens who don't think they live in the house. All good.

We set out plenty of water and food, and the garden is full of pretty tall broccoli, cabbage (both red and green) corn, aubergine and brussels sprouts, so they had lots of shade and dapples of sunshine. It was fairly warm today (it was about 80F) so plenty warm if they got cold, since they still need a heat lamp occasionally. I wanted to play in the garden with them. It looked like they were having so much fun.

They had a lovely time, but about halfway through the day Ashley came inside holding George. She was sitting outside watching them and they all 5 came and climbed all over her. So she decided they were saying they wanted to come in. That may have been true, but I'm mean, and made her take them back out. I find it amusing to think about them identifying Ashley as the one to cuddle up against in order to get their way.

Later, Stephen and I went shopping in town and left Ashley with the duty of staying downstairs (all the downstairs windows were open) and keeping the chickens out of the house. They tried, for the first time, to come into the kitchen. Ashley said they were standing in the doorway looking around in wonder. And they were all shocked when Ashley started flapping a dishcloth at them and telling them to shoo. It might have been the first time they heard the word shoo. And of course, it was Ashley doing it, so it must be.... a game! Yes, that's it! It's a game! A peck the flapping dishcloth game! Those are so fun, I'm telling you. Unless you are the Ashley trying to get chickens out of the kitchen before your mom gets home.

Anyway, that's my story!

Snow Day

This past week Canterbury, and indeed most of England has been covered in snow. C-O-V-E-R-E-D in it, to the point where both Thursday and Friday most of the schools in the Kent area were closed. We had extremely heavy snow fall on Saturday morning/early afternoon, where you couldn't see that far down the road with the snow and the wind blowing around. This was horrendously exciting for me, because I love the snow, and I love snow days almost as much. On Thursday I was determined to go out and see people (snow be darned!). So I went over to my friend Katy's house. Her boyfriend Liam got snowed in there as well and so we made a day of hot cocoa, movies, and the inevitable Snow Ball Fights!

Now while I was sitting inside, minding my own buisiness watching A Knights Tale with Liam, Katy sneaks outside (without shoes I might add) mushes together a big snow ball, tucks it behind her back, walks into the living room, and chucks it at me. It collided right smack-dab in the middle of my chest! So while I'm gasping from the cold, shocked into immobility, the snow (as snow does) starts to melt and drip down my top, making me gasp even more. With vengence in mind, I jump up from the sofa, give Katy a warning glare as I scrape snow off my bosom, then start charging towards her. She squeals in delight and runs into the snow. It should be noted at this point that I am only wearing my socks, since putting shoes on wasn't on my to-do list for getting her back. Off I run in to the snow, slipping and sliding as a thin layer of ice forms on the bottom of my socks. I'm catching up to her now, a hastily made snowball in hand, and I'm just about to launch it at the back of her head when BAM!

I fall.
(<-- the spot where I fell) This was the epic type of fall where your legs keep moving as if you were still running, but you slowly fall on your bum. In a deperate attempt to save my poor bum from the oncoming impact I turn so I'll be able to land on my front, braced by my arms. That was my intention. What ended up actually happening was that I landed on my hip, because the slow-motion falling wasn't actually that slow. Needless to say it hurt. Katy turns just in time to see my graceless tumble, and slips and slides her way back to me, helping me up, while giggling like a maniac. She thought it was hilarious. I glanced at her with a mumbled "at least ONE of us thinks this is funny". Which encouraged her to giggle even more hysterically. But the day was fun, I got hit in the face by a few more snow balls later during our all-in fight, and as I was leaving two kids who lived in Katy's neighbourhood came and attacked us with snow balls again, and we creamed them. So many snowballs flew that you could hardly see what was going on! When we finally finished, snow had gotten trapped behind the lenses of my glasses and I kept trying to scrape it off. Liam makes the witty comment while chuckling; "Hey Ash, you need windshield wipers for those things!" this causes Katy to burst into another round of hysterical giggles. I attempt to glare at him through a thick layer of snow. It fails and they laugh harder. So a few good points to take away from this blog is the following: In a snowball fight, always wear shoes, take off your glasses, and attack everyone else before they get to you! My snow days were fun, but school is scheduled to be on next week, and I'm back to preparing for exams. Hope everyone is enjoying the new year! Until next time! xoxo SmAsh

The Tales of Fishy Fun-ness!

Hello everyone!

I know I haven't blogged in quite a long time, however today I have had a new and enormously exciting experience, so I just had to share it with you! Mom and Stephen bought a Salmon today; we're going to eat this salmon tomorrow. Now this salmon is whole, the only thing missing is it's guts (oh darn!).

I've never had the pleasure of getting to play with fish heads before, but sure enough this fish has it's head, and Mom came equipped with four extra fish heads for a homemade fish stock. I was practically jumping with excitement, I mean, Come On! Fish heads! Fish heads that I get to play with! What more could any girl want?!

Mom set me up with my own cutting board, a long serrated knife, and a fillet knife. My instructions were simple: cut the heads and the tails in half, and remove the gills. Cutting the head in half was a feat in itself, because the fish were quite slippery. Thankfully I quickly figured out that pushing my thumb and forefinger into the gills help hold the fish still so I could hack through the bone. Holding the fish in this manner also produced the lovely and slightly gross act of squirting blood. It squirted onto my hands and all over my cutting board in lovely, clotted dark red spurts!

Now, it must be pointed out, that I'm used to having my fish already cut up for me, so I've never seen the gills of a fish (with the exception of the goldfish I dissected in the 7th grade, but that fish was tiny). So there was plenty of excitement and learning involved, as I studiously examined the gills, figured out where they joined to the jaw, how they were jointed together, and tried not to stab myself on the teeth (I failed).

Eventually I was able to apply my newly acquired visual knowledge of these gills to that of a chicken wing, so I could figure out how to cut the gills out in two slices (instead of hacking my way through like I had been doing) after that everything came easily, and I felt extremely proud of myself and how fast I was going.

All too soon I was out of fish heads to cut, and then Mom and I moved onto the next phase of making the fish stock; putting the fish into the pot of vegetables and sweating the fish until it turned 'White' (I say it was more of a pale pink colour, but still). I was extremely fascinated by the eyeballs, because they started to pop out of the sockets and float around like little white gobstoppers! Finally, the juice was strained and put into Tupperware containers, and Voilà! We have homemade fish stock!

So yes, I had a good day today ^.^

'Till next time!

Xoxo

Ash

Pictures (because Kelley is good at those and I am really not, so I'll take advantage of her goodness now, kthxbai.)

Kelley is here, trying not to catch our sick-bug and snapping photos of the interesting things we are doing. She is much better at posting pictures than I am. Obviously. Just to pretend that I am not quite as bad as I actually am, I'll post a few here for you all. Not the interesting ones, of course, but only the ones of us, because there are fewer of them and all.

Day 1: B00's Birthday

Kelley arrives. B00 (not my Boo-bear, but a friend) has birthday dinner at pizza express. Then there is a pub involved. Don't worry - Amy drinks water.


Day 2: Deal Castle

We go and check out my new school, see my classroom, and meet the headteacher. Then on to Deal where we have just enough time to tour Deal castle before needing to head home so Amy can go to a dinner thing with the people she will be working with next year. It is at a casino - Amy is not impressed. And again, don't worry - Amy drinks water (though they really tried to get me to drink champagne and wine and cocktails.)



Day 3: Bodiam Castle

We all 4 brave the hour and a half trip to Bodiam castle, and have way too much fun in the stocks while we are there.

Kelley sad in the stocks.


Amy, well pleased, stealing Kelley's shoes.


Stephen in the stocks.


Amy getting herself in trouble again.

Amy finally gets put in the stocks herself.


Ashley not even pretending to be sad. She likes it, that one.



"Hey - let's put our heads in!" says Amy.

"Ash - I think we are stuck and its your fault!" "Wait a minute, this was YOUR idea!"

Again, Amy decides that she is the queen and Stephen is the king and that she could live happily in a castle. She also asks Stephen if they can build one. And again, he says no. On the way back, Kelley tries out her hands at driving on the wrong side of the road. Her thoughts? "It's absolutely nerve-wracking and not a little confusing." she says. (She did pretty well, if I may say so myself.)

Well, that's it thus far. Maybe more pics later.

The Doctor Adventure

I am sick. Ashley is too, poor thing. I think she passed it onto me, but my body apparently really enjoyed the idea of being sick, and so embraced it with both arms. She has a cough and headache and is congested. I have a sore chest, phlegm, hacking, fever, headache, clogged ears and no voice. Joy. I called the doctor this morning, and they asked me to describe my symptoms, which I did. They told me that they didn't want me to come in, that I might have the swine flu, and that the doctor would call me later. He did, listened to my symptoms, and told me that he needed to consult with some other medical entity, and that if they thought I had swine flu as well, someone would be coming to the house to examine me. Another long wait between phone calls. Then a call back: I don't have swine flu, just a chest infection. They prescribed antibiotics, which wonderful Stephen will pick up on his way home from work. Ashley, though still sick and sent home from school, is only supposed to call the doctor if she develops a fever, which she hasn't yet done.

So no work this week.

I am trying to get the fever broken, and feeling pretty pathetic and sore and sick all over, when Christi and Zach send me an email: Zach has been watching classic Sesame Street and they found a song for me. I don't think I told Christi I was sick - but the video shows that she knew someway or another. I'm posting it here for you to enjoy too.

The Good and the Bad.

I'm tired of making excuses for myself and the fact that it has been so long since the last post. I know that everyone loves to read this. I love to know that I have posted and I love that I have people who care enough about me to read. I am really not good at being consistent about keeping up with the blog. I suppose I get tired. I suppose I get busy and it takes low priority. I suppose, if I am going to be really honest with everyone, that I get lazy. So I'm apologising, but I'm not making excuses.

Lately, it has been all about adjusting to the weather change (It's SPRING! There are flowers and it is not so bitter cold and the trees are growing leaves! There are nettles, which is the not-quite-so-good.) and the change from being in a classroom everyday for the past however long to being back at University and settling into working. I have minimal motivation for that as well. I have 2 large research projects that are due on the same day. I suspect that1 will get the majority of my time and attention, and the other will just get by. I have come to terms with that. I can't seem to split my attention well enough to focus on both at the same time. Overall, I do not think that it will affect my marks that much, as I still intent to pass. I think I'm to the point that I am content with scraping by. (can anyone say senior-itis?)

We re-arranged the house a few weeks ago, and I am enjoying the results. I was feeling a little like we were just staying here. Not everything had a home. Not everything was "moved in" after almost a year. And I confess to having a moment in which I just couldn't stand living here and not being settled. So we re-arranged and it has helped a lot. The living room, which is small to start with, was piled with the table behind the desk, so we were using only half the space and it was crowded and uncomfortable. Now it is more spread out and feels less crowded. We still don't have enough seats for everyone, but it is much better and a whole lot more bearable. We also found a new-to-us set of chairs at a second-hand shop. They are not great, and won't last long, but they are a lot better than the chairs that we had that didn't survive the overseas trip well. Those had fallen apart. There was 1 left, and it was wobbly. The new chairs are green, which I like.

I am actively job hunting at the same time as all the other things. This is actually a very hard thing. There is an expectation that everyone who applies for a position will go for a tour of the school. These are scheduled at specific times convenient for the school. Most of the schools are not bus or walking distance from us, so this means that I need to rent a car. Sometimes for 1 school visit. Then I apply, but the competition is fierce. I didn't even get an interview at the school that I did my placement at. I feel a bit disheartened. I'm not sure if there is a problem with my application, my cover letter, or my CV. I don't know if my Visa is an issue or if it is just bad luck of the draw. But I am starting to worry that I won't be able to find a job, won't be able to finally do my part in keeping our family afloat. We have such big plans: buying a house, the potentiality of future children, and none of it can happen if I continue to be a less-contributive member of the family.

*sigh* I feel like this post is a lot of whining, and that is not exactly what I intended to do when I started it. There are good things. Ashley is 17 now. (Ok - good and bad thing. I have very mixed emotions about her birthday. One one hand, yay for her, and on the other, my time with her as a child is almost over and that makes me sad.) We have solved the fungus gnat problem with the handy help of a pesticide spray and some silver sand. I have new house plants. I am well loved and cared for. Mostly, I am happy. I miss you all a lot, though. I feel a bit lonely without my friends even close enough to talk to.

No more now, or I'll do something silly like cry.

And now for something a bit different...

As I have been tired, busy, and promising someone a chance to be a published blog author for almost a year now, I am very happy to finally offer the chance for a guest writer (as opposed to a GHOST writer, and I am glad for that, let me tell you, as I would never sleep well again after being so well-haunted...) to take over for a bit. Kelley and I have been friends since we were small, and my sister Kelli introduced us. She is here on a visit, and I am happy to put our family blog in her so-very capable hands. (Or so she says, though we haven't actually experienced that massage magic as of yet. hint hint.)

Hi there! Kelley here. Amy thought it might be nice for a small change, so you are to temporarily to be exposed to my version of a little thing we like to call "return to the motherland." Just teasing, I have never actually called it that before, but since this is my second visit to Amy and Ashley in England, and Amy promised a blog from us last time (she lied, naughty girl) I promised that I would write this time. (She just thinks it will be once. I intend to milk her for every word.)

After a long flight from Dallas/Fort Worth airport to London Heathrow (9 hours) and then a trip on the tube to the train station (1 hour) and then a train trip down to Canterbury (1.5 hours) I arrived here on Friday the 2nd. Note that if you should visit from America, these sleep Nazis will NOT allow you to escape your exhaustion and jet lag until what they consider an appropriate evening hour. It gets dark here at four. Tor-ture. (In the infamous words of Sir Stephen: no pain, no gain, so deal with it. Or something like that.)

On Saturday, the 3rd, we visited some friends of Amy and Stephen's for dinner. Here are Stephen and the Transplants (that's actually the name of their band):


By the way, he doesn't always smile like a serial killer in photos. Andy and b00 (the friends) made us a lovely meal, (involving eating anglerfish for the first time, and blood, gore, and medical-grade superglue, but not on any of us) and we played a few rounds of a new game called Bausack. It is a really challenging game where you make a tower of these odd-shaped wooden blocks. The catch is that other players choose your pieces for you. The last tower standing is the winner. The rookie (that's me) won the first round with this creation:


Ashley had a lovely 2nd place masterpiece with this one:


We stayed quite late past dinner, and walked home in the dark (very dark) and cold (really, really cold) and snuggled into beds with hot water bottles and many blankets.

Today, Amy and I went down to the High Street (yes I said down, then high), which is a short, quite scenic walk from their flat. (She says short and quite scenic NOW, but when we were actually walking it she sang quite a different song involving lots of 'Are we there yet'esque statements.) This is a school field nearby.


See the little black hills of dirt? Mole holes. Stephen says to call them mole hills, but I will let you decide. (Kelley and I both called them mole-holes until Stephen corrected us. I suppose I know that they should be called mole hills, and I don't know why my instinct is to call them mole-holes, but it is.) As you stroll down the path alongside the river, the Canterbury cathedral pops up in between the trees and over rooftops like a creepy stalking historical monument.


(Just look at those creepy stalker-building spires. You can't miss those, it's how you differentiate between a regular historic monument and a creepy-stalking one.) I kid. It is really quite stunning, but for some reason never fails to surprise me when I'm walking down the road surrounded by buildings and all of a sudden, Bam! No, it doesn't mow you down. It's more like, Boo! Here I am! Again! This is the creepy wooded path that Amy will not go down in the dark unaccompanied. Can't say I blame her:


(That picture may well be the favourite one that Kelley took today. I love the muted colours and it actually looks just like a creepy pathway should. Well done, Kel.) Here are a couple of buildings within town. This is a synagogue on one of the side streets (Story: This building used to be a synagogue, and it has since been bought out by The King's School, a swanky private institution that charges more in tuition for the boarding children than my tuition does. It is now a recital space used for music performances.):


This is an official Canterbury Historical Building (according to the sign)--there are quite a few of these in town. (In the midst of a variety of small shops, this house is actually residential. I almost feel sorry for the people who live there, as every tourist in the area has to stop and take a picture of this house. One time I actually saw someone taking a picture of the residents as they went in.)


Not sure if this sign is old, but it was on a historical building and I just liked it.


And this lovely old building houses...the Gap.


Here is a shot of the high street (also called the Parade) (Or at least 1/3rd is. There is St. Peters, The Parade, and then the High street all as names on this one straight, 1/2 mile stretch of pedestrianised road.):


And just around the corner, this sign wishes you a Happy Christmas. (On January 4):


And here is the cathedral again. I think it's following me.


Before we left town to head home, we made a couple of stops, one of them at Tesco, which is one of the groceries.


Now, the grocery stores amuse me, because one of the first things my mother said to me when I told her I was visiting England was "Yuck. You'll hate the food." (She doesn't yet hate the food, because no one here eats English food. We all eat Thai and Indian and American food, and French and Chinese and Spanish food. England is all about World food, anymore.) And it's not that it's just different, but they have odd names for things. For a complete mental perv like me, it is a joyous place.

For instance, there is an entire aisle dedicated to biscuits. Don't care that they are covered in chocolate or cinnamon flavored, they call them biscuits. Check out my picture of the cookie aisle. (I love biscuits. And cakes. Darn them. And this picture looks as bright and colourful and makes me want to bring them all to a much better home: namely mine.)


And this is the pickled portion of the store. Never seen so many pickled things in my life. And guess what wasn't in this section. Pickles. (Though there are pickled eggs, and onions and beets and garlic and sauerkraut, and lemons and shallots. English people like their pickled foods.)


And here is mince. Supposed to be ground lamb or beef or pork or whichever, but tell me truly. Doesn't this look like the bits in 'Kibbles n Bits'?


(If you don't think that looks like kibble, go HERE and look. I have thought that it does ever since I saw it for the first time, and I was so glad when Kelley said she thought so too.) For those of you curious about the edible porn, there are cans of things like this:


The can says things like "Everyone loves a pair of bangers!" and "Size isn't everything!" and "Hide the sausage!" These will henceforth be referred to as "Porn and Beans." And this:


Now, I saw the movie "The Full Monty", and I think that its funny that this is a can of sausage and beans. I'll let you run with that one. For those of you that haven't seen the film, and this joke is doing a complete flyby at the moment, go HERE. You'll see what I mean. (The Full Monty, in this case,refers to the full English breakfast, which the English have held onto tooth and nail despite being a culture of world foods. The full English breakfast consists of as many of the following items as possible: Eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, toast, mushrooms, black pudding, hashbrowns, fried bread, and tomatoes. The Full Monty=coronary heart disease. In a can.)

And after the Tesco, we stopped by the candy shoppe, called the The Sugar Boy, where you can see these:


Ahhh...Uncle Joe's Mint Balls. They keep you all aglow. You say immature, I say nevertheless amusing. Our last stop was to get kebabs, which are lovely pitas stuffed with meat shaved off these huge roasters, like this lamb one:


They are really yummy, I totally recommend them (mom's advice be darned). Afterwards we headed home and had dinner, including a yummy custard desert, which is like pudding, but a bit thinner, and served hot. We are now all huddled in Amy and Stephen's bed as Amy reads aloud, and I will shortly have to haul myself from the warmth to my own bed and hot water bottle (Best. Invention. Ever.) Thanks for letting me hijack your favorite blog, and I hope you will let me share again. Cheers.

No, Kelley, thank YOU. We all hope that you will hijack this blog again in the near future. Even Stephen is happy. Ill and delirious with fever (no Dearest, I am not a reindeer and I don't need to eat another carrot...) but happy nonetheless.

Christmas Morning

8 AM Christmas morning found our door creaking open and Ashley crawling into bed with us for morning time cuddles. She had been waiting so patiently. She woke up at 3 AM, then again at 4, and finally at 7. She confessed to having snuck in to look at the tree and presents before coming in, but she swore she didn't touch anything. It amazes me that a 16 year old girl is still so excited about Santa and Christmas that she can't sleep. Possibly this stems from the fact that the last 2 years we have boycotted Santa and an elaborate Christmas.

Santa apparently did not appreciate the fact that we had not set up the tree or done anything nice with the living room, because when we walked into the living room, it was all done for us. All the presents were laid under the lighted Christmas ficus.

Ashley's Santa gifts were nicely laid also, and she must have been VERY good this year because there were two of them. Stephen and I must have been very bad, because we didn't get any from Santa at all. We have decided to write a letter of complaint.

Stephen must have been right when he said he had an in with Santa, and that he wanted Pringles and beer this year, because all that was left was crumbs. At least he put the bottle on a coaster.

This is a screen shot of the Santa-tracking site we used this year. It was how we knew when we had to get to bed, and we must confess that, while Ashley was in bed and asleep in plenty of time, Stephen and I waited until Santa was in North Africa before we slipped into bed. Maybe that's why we didn't get presents from him.

Ashley opening her presents. This one was a book from Santa. She ended up with quite a few books, some DVD's and a new screen for her iPod, plus a chamomile/lavender scented heatable fuzzy duck (amongst many other things.) She has expressed her happiness and is currently begging Stephen to install the new screen while her nose is stuck in one of those new books and the duck is stuck to her chest.

Stephen had the fewest presents (2) but they were dense. And it might have been a good thing, because he really is delightful when he opens presents. It takes at least 10 minutes, and involves examination and observation of detail, coming to a hypothesis and testing it before he actually opens the gift. He walked away with 5 new games and a new case for his Nintendo DS. He is now happily ignoring Ashley's pleas for her repaired iPod by burying his nose in the new games.

After having opened an incredibly beautiful and massively heavy granite mortar and pestle, Ashley couldn't bear the excitement about this gift for me any longer. Being birthed from the wrapping is a giraffe. I was informed that his name is Jonah and he is a hot water bottle cover. He is lovely and intends to torment Girard and Jo-Jo with the fact that he gets more of my cuddles than they do. He doesn't have much of a giraffe neck, though, so I suspect that the balance is maintained.

Jonah and I wishing you a happy Christmas!

Handsome Stephen looking forward to breakfast.

Ashley and her duck, whom she has named Droopey (for now at least.)

Breakfast was French toast made with seeded multi-grain bread and syrup. Dinner is on the stove and the turkey is roasting in the crock-pot. I'll post pictures and the further story later today. Right now the extended version of Lord of the Rings calls to me with its irresistible siren song.