Day 329 — Meeting Santa

[for Sunday, Nov. 25]



Phil's mom brought Rylee to town today to check out the Enchanted Forest at the Pink Palace and, ultimately, to meet the big man in red himself, ol' Santa Claus.

We made our way dutifully through the twisting paths flanked by animatronic woodland creatures and elves, slowly (and creepily) cutting wood and even eating poison mushrooms. I was completely blown away by the gingerbread houses on display. Clearly, the people who submit them are incredibly competitive. There were castles and churches and a Southland Gaming Park and a Parthenon. And then there was this, which deserves its own Food Network show.

When we finally made it to Santa (and convinced Rylee to wait her turn in line; she kept either breaking in line or leaving to go watch the train set again), she cautiously approached him and sat on the wooden pony, before demanding a candy cane and then running off without sitting on his lap. Poor old guy. He was taking clandestine swigs of something between kids. I imagine I'd need to be good and liquored up before letting hundreds of kids sit on my lap and cough in my face while telling me all the crap they felt entitled to that year. The whisky helps kill the germs.

I remember not taking a shine to Santa when I was a kid. But I think I was frigging terrified of the Easter Bunny. I want to say there are horrible, horrible pictures out there of me in my finest pastel dress at age three or so, screaming bloody murder in the lap of a bewildered giant rabbit. Is that for real? No idea. I should ask the parents. So I understand why Rylee wouldn't immediately want to hop on the lap of some random bearded dude in a furry red suit.

I was really impressed by all the Christmas trees various local orgnizations had up at the Pink Palace. There was a tree made from recycled stuff (upside-down light bulbs painted to look like snowmen!), a tree made as an homage to wine, and a purple Seuss/Grinch tree complete with fireplace being raided by the Grinch himself. It was ridiculously cute.

All those neat trees just made me mourn the fact that I won't be putting up my tree this year. The cats will destroy it. I'm going to have to wait until they're a bit older and hopefully less unabashedly insane. I can just imagine the anarchy that would ensue the moment I got that bastard erected and plugged in. And the thought makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

Project 365

Day 147 -- Rylee

[for May 27]



Today Phil and I drove in to Saltillo together and he fired up both of my parents' grills and cooked up an enormous spread of burgers and sausages and chicken and hot dogs for our families. It was a rare treat -- getting both families (though incomplete) together for dinner, and having Phil get down in his element to cook for everyone. We sat out on the patio and took turns chasing Rylee down when she'd take off running downhill on the paved driveway. We winced at each step she took, sure it was only a matter of time before she took a tumble and came up with a skinned knee and a mouth screeching embarrassed protests.

But she didn't fall. In fact, she spent most of her time terrorizing the cats and calling me "momma" and Patrick "Bubba," which, I think, tickled and embarrassed him all at once. She wanted to hold his hand and she had a ball dancing on the flatbed trailer when he picked her up and put her on it.

The last time I saw her was months ago. She was mumbling words then. Now she's got whole sentences coming out of her mouth. The time, it flies.

Project 365