After our Christmas weekend in Montebello with father-in-law and his wife, we had a few more Christmassy things to engage in [see last year's post here].
December 24: We made our usual, annual jaunt to the farm for the sake of my father, sister and her brood, which are getting big enough that the eldest child is almost an adult (it would seem). Unfortunately, my daughter Kate wasn't able to make it this year due to work (she couldn't last year either, for similar reasons). When we first arrived, the girls ran around the yard in the snow, until they decided it was simply too cold.
Imagine: when I was small, that circle of snow in our yard (a driveway that circles to meet all the buildings, from shed to barn to shed to house) was where my father once put all the snow with the snowblower, making it a mound at least a storey high, which we then played upon. It hasn't been the same since he stopped doing that.
As we prepared for dinner, I amused myself by discovering a Hallowe'en cup in the cupboard (while attempting to find drinking cups for the girls) that actually held two dead spiders. God sakes.
Aoife in her red dress, who spent a great deal of time pointing at the dog and saying "dog," repeatedly. She hasn't really spent much time around dogs, but is less fearful than Rose (who doesn't care for dogs at all, up close).
I still find it strange how quickly the home-Christmas moves: I suppose I'm still used to so many years of going home for a few days or a week, instead of the half-day we currently do. It goes by so quickly. But then again, we've multiple Christmases now, so it pretty much evens out, except with more travel.
We would clean the wrapping paper and scattered toys from the floor, we said, tomorrow. Christine went out for a bit on Boxing Day, but the rest of us didn't leave the house.