Christmas Ornaments

We put up our Christmas decorations today. We've had the same fake tree for the past 20 years, but for the first time in my life, I noticed that we've got some pretty weird-ass ornaments. Notice the welcome sign, above).

I guess everyone's got the various messages of hope and peace and Santa ornaments.
Of course, there's also the home-made decorations we bought from a bazaar for some Cause or other:

At some point, the Christmas associations really start getting stretched...


How about this?

After a while we pretty much stop trying. It's just "things that hang on".

But what about these guys?

This next one has got to be my absolute favourite.

It's a koala bear furry dressed as Santa!


We also have a weird rule in our family:
We never throw christmas ornaments away.
As a result, there are quite a few ornaments on whom the years have taken their toll. Now they're just creepy. Like this empty sleigh.

this bare fireplace,

the pirate santa,
or this:

You'd expect there to be a Dad and Mom sweater as well. Or at least a Daughter one.
Nope. That's all. SON.

But I think this last one is the scariest one of all:

The weirdest thing is that it's always been like that. There never was a body to begin with! I guess that's why Santa doesn't bring gifts to the Voodoo children anymore...

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Return of the Barbarians

Hello there,
I feel we've reached a sort of... threshold of familiarity. I think I'm finally comfortable enough to share some facts about my family.
First of all, I have 4 siblings. Our house is always full. Of noise. Never a dull moment, and all that.

Fortunately, everybody else was gone on vacation these past few weeks. Me? I spent the summer working, therefore enjoying the rare opportunity of having the entire place to myself.
Unfortunately, they're all back, now. And, as if there weren't enough of them as it is, they brought grandma and grandpa along.

So, after 2 months of eating alone (or barely eating) I suddenly find myself having dinner with a party of 8.
We say grace and sit down. I'm pretty starved and the burgers and pasta are making my mouth water. As I'm about to dig in, I realize that whoever set the table gave me 2 knives. And not even the manly kind you can cut with, I'm talking about 2 butter knives.
So I get up from the table and walk all the way to the cutlery drawer to fetch a fork. I sit down again and finally take a bite. It's delicious.
Then, my father asks for the salad. I pass him the salad.
I eat some pasta. It's good pasta.
My sister decides she wants a paper towel. Of course, she can't fetch it herself because she's sitting on the good side of the table. I reach back and stretch as far as I can and hand her the paper towels.
Meanwhile, after all this time, my mouth has dried up. I reach for my glass only to find out that I have no glass. Grandma's claimed it as her own.
So I get up. Again. To get a glass. I fill it at the sink, drink half, fill it up again and sit back at the table.
I've barely picked up my fork when grandpa, aching for some vegetables, reaches for the salad. He hits my glass, instead, and spills the water all over my plate and lap.

At that point, I just left. I waited 'till they were done before going back to the kitchen and eating by myself.

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