My usual warning about tonight: don’t go out, because the roads will be filled with cars driven by amateur drunkards. Stay at home and drink, maybe with a couple of neighbors:
…or by yourself:
Category: Friends and Family
Coup De Grâce
I said yesterday that the three-day orgy of food (a.k.a. family Christmas feasts) was over, that I’d eaten enough for twelve Ethiopians and drunk enough for four Irish navvies, etc. etc. etc.
I lied.
Or rather, I forgot that we’d promised to take Brother-In-Law for some Mexican food for lunch yesterday.
And that we’d planned on dinner with Doc Russia and his exquisite wife later last night.
So of course we did both: quesadillas, fajitas, chimichangas and so on, accompanied by the usual margaritas (at Gloria’s); and beef short ribs, pineapple sponge cake with ice cream, and whiskey plus red wine (at Doc’s).
I now look and feel like Monty Python’s Mr. Creosote, understand how an actual python feels when it’s swallowed, say, a large pig, and I have lost the will to live.
Here’s a picture of a gun to keep you all happy:
And please excuse me while I go off and groan for a few hours.
Boxing Day Blowout
Yesterday we hosted the family for our traditional Christmas breakfast:
…but that was yesterday.
Today is Boxing Day, which for our family is as important as Thanksgiving.
Oh yes… ’tis the time that famille du Toit has its Christmas Day dinner (a day late but certainly not a dollar short): roast beef, roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, this year all ably prepared by Daughter and hosted by the Son&Heir at his place.
See y’all tomorrow.
Merry Christmas
…from Santa’s favorite elf:
Conviviality
We have a guest in our house: New Wife’s brother will be staying with us for a week or so, having managed the 330-hour flight from Johannesburg to DFW (some exaggeration, perhaps).
Anyway, he is a man of gargantuan tastes (despite being slender in frame), so yesterday consisted of picking him up from the airport, feeding him breakfast at our place followed by an evening which consisted of beer, wine and BBQ. Also much laughter and good times (see title).
Today promises more of the same — and we haven’t even reached the Christmas weekend yet.
Oy.
And he brought with him from Seffrica all sorts of delicacies e.g. biltong, Richelieu brandy and various Christmas comestibles, so the effects of his visit will be felt long hence.
Next week will be spent pretty much at the range, as he attempts to deplete my ammo stock as much as he’s started to attack my booze cupboard. Little does he know…
What fun. What glorious, glorious fun.
My head hurts.
A Christmas Story
Longtime Friend&Reader Dave L. shares this tale from his youth:
I left Uncle Sam’s Navy in July of 1974. The economy was a little shaky back in those days and I was struggling to find bean and beer money. I picked up a part time gig in a local photo store. We sold some fairly high end new and used hardware – Nikons, Leicas etc and did the usual photo processing back in the days before digital photography. I might share some of those stories with you but that’s for another time. The point of today’s note is to talk about the music that played in the store.
Our Jewish boss wanted to create a “festive” Christmas atmosphere and he played a continuous loop of holiday music over the PA system. Unfortunately, his play list was only about 45 minutes long so we got to hear the same songs about 8 to 10 times during the course of a work day. You know me as a person of faith and I really love Christmas and the music associated with the holiday, but my love and patience were sorely tested by hearing “The Little Drummer Boy” ten times a day six days a week. If I hadn’t needed the money I would have run screaming out of the shop at chorus number eight or nine of “Pa rum pum pum pum”.
Even today, almost fifty years later, hearing the Little Drummer Boy will make me sweat and shout out “D-Day. Normandy. June Sixth. Eisenhower!”
Wait: Eisenhower?
[exit, giggling helpessly]