>Christmas Hangover

>A couple good days with family. Christmas Eve, as has been the tradition in recent years, everyone in my family who live around here came over to our house for homemade pizza. That would be my mom and dad, my sister Mitzi, and her crew (Rem, Mariah, Amberlynn and JW) joining Sid, Julia and me. Oh yeah, the place was lousy with dogs too. Here are a couple pics:

Here is our tiny little (fake) Christmas tree, in preparation for the morning assault.

There was nearly a riot at our house the next morning because Julia didn’t get her shiftless ass out of bed until after 9 AM. Sid and I even went to the corner store for soda just to pass the time until she was up and coffee’d. It was touch and go, but no one got hurt. After that, Sid went to his mom’s and we went to Mitzi’s for dinner. I nearly ate myself to death. They served up some delicious prime rib roast, and it was easily the best meat I’ve eaten all year. Sometimes I feel guilty eating meat, especially when it isn’t any good (which is most the time in most of the restaurants I go to). Not this time. I about had to be hand-trucked out of there. I was worried in the hours between being home and passing out that I would turn our entire house into one 1200 sq ft dutch oven, but luckily that didn’t happen. I was too bloated to take any pictures of the feast, though I did get this one of my mom’s new little mutt, Emma, in her Christmas finery:

Sometimes I think I’m the only one in the world who isn’t a nutty dog person. Hopefully it isn’t genetic.

Today, December 26th, Julia and I both had to work. It is also the 38th birthday of the greatest dog who ever defended a homestead, the mighty Sinbad:

No doubt he is ruling some part of the Happy Hunting Grounds.

Because I have no impulse control, as soon as I could sign off work I did so and went and used the gift certificates I received from family (my folks and Sid, to be exact) at SHAKESPEARE AND CO BOOKSELLERS. The place is run by a fine man named Garth, and I feel like he and I have become friends, which is cool. It’s always good to be on good terms with one’s dealer. Sid calls it “the hippy bookstore.”

Anyway, for my self portrait today I took a shot of me worshiping at the altar of the books I scored, both via my gift certificates and as straight-up gifts. Dig it:

From left to right, here is what we have (they are tagged in the image’s flickr location as well):

The Montana Gardener’s Companion. We have big gardening plans this year; this book will get worn out.

Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. This one is a result of having read Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I love fresh, homemade bread, and I figure if the Barbara’s husband can be the bread guy in their family, then so can I. Julia was happy to indulge me not only in the book, but with all the hardware I will need to get started baking this weekend.

This next one is something local and handmade, a blank notebook. The note inside the cover says: “Each handsewn page made from 100% post consumer waste. Made in Missoula, MT. Reach me at one.and.only.life-at-hushmail-dot-com.” Very cool. I will use it probably as my garden journal this year. Anyone in Missoula, get one!

Payback. This has been on my list ever since Jenna from S&Co posted that bit about it. I’m a big Atwood fan, and this seems like it will be great.

This one hiding back here was pure indulgence; this is a beautiful book! I wanted to make sure and get at least one thing I normally wouldn’t get (as if walking into the store with a bunch of money already allocated just for books wasn’t paralyzing enough!), and this was it. What an awesome book, the photos are fantastic. Built by Hand.

Working by the late, great Studs Terkel. A classic.

2009 Writer’s Market. Maybe this one will help me make at least enough money to pay for my habit!

Next week I’m back to Houston, TX, for one final trip of the year. I hope I don’t get stranded somewhere.

Leave a Reply