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This Day in My History

  A Day with "Grandma"
  Happy PC Holiday to You Too
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 It's the Night Before Christmas
2004:  'Twas the Night Before Christmas

2005 Christmas Letter

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"Pope Joan"


"It just needs a little love..."

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Link is to .mov format.  Click here for flash.

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Flash format

Master list of links to (most) videos
by Mefeedia


24 December 2005

Never assume anything.

We had a lovely evening.  We drove up to Lincoln, north of Sacramento, to get together with our college friends and watch Berkeley beat BYU in the Las Vegas Bowl.  I wasn't really enthusiastic about going, to tell you the truth.   It would mean traveling, probably in the rain, and definitely in rush hour traffic and at the peak of last minute shopping frenzy out to an off ramp where one of the biggest/newest malls in the area is.  To watch a football game.

I'm not one of those people who goes ape over sports.  If a game is on and I'm home alone, I don't turn it on.  Instead I watch Paula Deen melt butter for some other artery-clogging recipe.  However, if there is someone around who is interested in a game and wants to watch it, I may sit and watch it  with them...and then I do get caught up in the game and enjoy it.

OK, I never really got into cricket in Australia (mostly because I don't think we watched any cricket games), but by the time I left Perth, I was really into footy.  In fact, I even watched some games when I got back to the states, when I could find them.

So it's not that I'm not into sports--I'm just not a fanatic.

Despite the rain (which had let up), and the traffic (which had not), we crept up the freeway to Lincoln and had an enjoyable evening cheering the Bears on to victory.

Walttrim.jpg (13699 bytes)We had left in a bit of a hurry.  All afternoon, I was convinced that I wasn't really going to go, and trying to find excuse to stay home in my nice warm house.  But by the time we had trimmed our Charlie Brown tree (it just needs a little love--and a lot of imagination) it was becoming apparent that going to the dinner was a given and, in fact, the time had passed faster than I thought, so we had to kind of hustle if we were going to make kick-off (which, in fact, we did not, because of the traffic.  We missed Cal's first touchdown).

While I did my usual shoe hunt, Walt fed the dogs and then I got Latte her treats and put her in the cage, as I always do, now, when we are going out.

I didn't do a big "clean up EVERYTHING" because Latte was locked away safely and I wasn't worried--the other dogs are the good dogs.

And so off we went to enjoy hot mulled wine and home baked cookies and the camaraderie of long-time friends, plus the rare experience of watching our team win the big one.

soundofmusic.jpg (6071 bytes)When we left the house, we drove around the Del Webb development looking at decorations...very clever, a section with "gingerbread men on Broadway," and every house decorated with a gingerbread man theme.  Unfortunately some of them were already dark (it was 9 p.m. and this was a retirement community, so I guess they go to bed early!), but I did take some video.

The traffic had cleared somewhat for the drive home and we turned on ABBA Gold and listened to ABBA music all the way home (since I didn't have any Christmas music in the CD player).

We pulled into the driveway just as "I do, I do..." was finishing, Walt's favorite on the CD, so we sat there waiting for the last horns to die down and we started to hear frantic pawing at the front door.

"Who do you think you are--Latte?" Walt joked to the dogs inside the front door, since it's Latte who gets so excited about our return that she tries to tear the door down.

Only when he opened the front door it was Latte.   Somehow she had managed to tear down her cage, eat a hole in a rug and a towel, she had helped herself to things on the kitchen counter, including a whole bag of walnuts and she had chewed up the handle to my Tupperware measuring cup.  A box of Christmas cards was on the floor.  There were muddy pawprints on the table.

I don't know how long she'd been out, but Ms. Latte had had a gay ol' time for herself and now Walt has wired the cage shut so she doesn't do it again.

What I really wanted for Christmas was a home for Latte.   Surely there is some magical being who is going to come up to my front door and tell me that he is looking for a nice lively, friendly white dog to take home with him to his family for a Christmas present, isn't there?  I'm looking for Miracle on Villanova Dr. for Christmas, but doubt that I'll get it.

If she's still here two days from now (and there is absolutely NO reason to suspect she will not be), Santa is going to bring her a very big, very black lump of coal.

She'll probably eat it.


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Walt added these locks to the cage, and
hopefully this will deter Ms. Latte from
any further unexpected adventures!


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