An Alpaca Miracle

The moment I pulled this wee thing out of my Christmas stocking, I began to have very promising ideas about Social Security.

Annual Santa Parade/Blizzard Post

I'm sure the post that resulted from last year's Santa Parade was so memorable that I don't need to explain what it is again. Fire trucks. Christmas lights. Etc., etc. This time I will just add that this year it SEEMED like it was warm enough to watch the parade outside rather than from my apartment, but in fact it was NOT warm enough. Note to self: twenty-four degrees and falling, even with no wind, is too cold to spend an hour outside in unless you are wearing a snowsuit and also doing a triathalon. Which we were not doing. We were standing still and shivering. I thought my toes were in actual danger of frostbite. To sum up: it was cold. And it was also very dark, so my pictures are terrible.

First terrible picture:That is a house on the back of the truck. The house had smoke coming out of it. On the other side it says, "Decorate with care, candles cause flare." So it was an educational as well as festive parade.

This is self-explanatory, I hope. Fire trucks. Christmas lights. Etc., etc.

This made me giggle at the time. Now I think, either they're giving this little guy a place in the parade because he's so cute, or they really hate him and are taking this opportunity to drag him around in the street like Hector's body behind Achilles's chariot. (Ivan thinks I have a strange preccopation with death. I'm not sure where she's getting that.) Anyway, he's so cheerful, I don't think he cares either way. Rock on, teddy bear. Rock on.

The highlight of the parade (not pictured here; I have no caption for this one) was when one of the firefighters sitting on top of a truck knocked her head on a low-hanging electrical wire. No, she did not get electrocuted or in any way injured. That wouldn't have been funny. Although you know what Mel Brooks says. "Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die." (Otto told me that one, so this is his preoccupation with death coming through, not mine.) The point of the story is that this brief episode distracted me from my numb toes for ten seconds and I was very grateful.

The rest of my pictures look like this: so let's just move right along to the blizzard.

Hello, zero visibility! Although the plows were going through town constantly, I did not see the pavement again for eight hours. It was rather remarkable.

There is some kind of village-wide contest in which businesses compete to have the best window displays. In my opinion, m.electables is the only one worth mentioning. Although the others tried, they have the disadvantage of being law firms and real estate offices, whereas m.electables sells pretty things and tasty treats. Hmm, cookies or lawyers. I can't decide which is more festive.

Christmas card!

My goodness, where is the village hall? I can barely see it, but damn if I can't hear it ALL THE TIME. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that if I am ever striken blind while walking home from the post office, I'll be able to navigate by the sound of Amy Grant singing "My Grown Up Christmas List." Throw in a Republican and this situation is also known as Simon's Personal Hell.

At some point today I was bringing some laundry downstairs and this is the sight I found at the bottom of the flight: Indeed, that is snow piled four feet high outside my front door. I immediately started mentally calculating how long I could survive with the food I have in the house and concluded that within two days I would be living on marshmallows and cashews. Not, overall, an unpleasant diet, but I will definitely be going shopping tomorrow. It turned out that there is room to open the door, after all. And I always have that escape ladder for fires. Who knew I might also need it for the polar opposite of a fire? Haha, polar, get it?

And with that, I end this post. Here it is, your moment of zen.

Three conversations from the past 24 hours that I did not anticipate turning out so weird.

Frazzled Borders Employee: Can I help you?
Me: Yes, I'm looking for a book by Michael Largo, called Genius and Heroin.
Puzzled Borders Employee: Cheese and Heroin?
Me: GENIUS... and Heroin. It's supposed to be in the Family section, but I don't see a Family section.
Disturbed Borders Employee: It is not in Family. It's in Death & Dying.

Postal worker: Anything fragile, liquid, or perishable?
Me: Well, there's a kind of a bouncy ball that's got liquid inside it. It's not water, but I don't know what it is, maybe glycerine or something.
Postal worker: waits for me to figure out what on earth I'm talking about
Me: There's glitter in it.
Postal worker: Oh, it's a glitterball.
Me: Yes!

Dermatologist: Say goodbye to your mole.
Me: Good riddance, mole.
Dermatolist: Wish it well.
Me: Farewell, mole.
Dermatologist: Have a nice life, mole.
...
Me: Well, this has been fun.
Dermatologist: Yes, I enjoyed it.

Strive for Five

Aunt Sara: How was your pie?
Ivan: lovely, thank you.
Aunt Sara: So you're sure everything tasted... like pie?
Ivan: fairly certain...
Aunt Sara: Oh wonderful! I put about seven shakes of Celery Seed in before I realized it wasn't Nutmeg. Can I wrap some up for you to take home?