Fog-shrouded trees in the southern Willamette Valley |
This holiday season has been one of those that serve to remind how blessed and lucky I am. (But then again, they all are.) On Christmas Day, Maty and I had our own little holiday celebration (despite the fact that neither of us are Christian). We exchanged gifts, took a jaunt out to the theater to see Sherlock Holmes, and had supper at home. Just the two of us.
Roasted lamb, garlic mashed (sweet) potatoes, gravy, french bread, salad. Blueberry tart (from France) for dessert. |
Nephew Gino is growing up fast. He's about average height for his age, but his weight is in the 90th percentile. He's a stocky kid destined, no doubt, for the wrestling mat. Or perhaps he'll be fighting for position down low in the paint, intimidating would-be rebounders.
Nephew Gino and Mama |
Then, yesterday, it was back up to Portland, there to meet sister Paige and family. The drive along the interstate was a patchwork quilt of fog and sun breaks.
Cold and clear December |
Paige, Tim, and Torin arrived in the mid-afternoon. Mi sobrino Torin ha estado estudiando en una escuela de inmersión del español. Y él habla muy bien. Eric and Kristi drove up as well, Calee made the cross-town trip and we all went for Thai food at Authentic Thai on Division Street.
Front row: Torin and Maty Back row: Tim, Calee, Paige, moi, Kristi and Eric |
Boy, I'll tell ya: Any man who is not a fool knows enough to say thanks when he hits a stretch of road like this. And I don't want to think I'm a fool. So I'll say it: Thank you, Great Whatever. Thank you.
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