5 Days of Christmas

So I was shopping the other day at what used to be my favorite second-hand store until they decided to close an hour early and kicked me out! Something about a wind storm. People, people, people... just because the weather man says it's going to arrive at 6pm does not mean it will ACTUALLY arrive at 6 freaking pm. Try more like midnight.

Anyway, while I was there I stumbled upon a book called "Christmas Conversation", which is full of questions about Christmas. I figured for fun I would answer some of them here so I started flipping through the book until I found one that struck me as a question I wanted to think about and therefore, respond to.

Today's question is...

"If you were a photographer who was given the chance to go back in history to capture a Christmas photograph, where would you go and what year would it be?"

My first though, obviously, is to go back to the Nativity. The birth of Christ. To have a photo of that moment... Wow. But then I started thinking about flashes and weird digital sounds and changed my mind. It would be cool to get a photo of that moment for a lot of reasons-- many of which I'm sure you can think of-- but why ruin it? I shutter to think about what would happen if I showed up and looked like paparazzi. I'd either be struck by lightening from God, or ruin the magic of that night.

So, my final answer is...

Whether it is truth or rumor, I don't know. There is a story of a Christmas during WWII where the German and Allied soldiers camped only feet from each other called truce and shared stories and cigarettes for one night. They celebrated Christmas. I'd like to go back to that moment in time and take a picture. There's just something about making peace to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

What's your choice?

Two Heart Attacks and a Christ-ma-aaa-sss Treeee!!!

According to my husband, it is part of the Christmas Tree shopping experience to load all members of the tree hunting party into the car and drive around aimlessly for hours until said car happens upon a Christmas Tree lot. Such was the case on Saturday when the three of us loaded into the car and headed out.

And in case you missed it... I said car. A perfectly good truck in the driveway.

So we head out, and drive to the furthest country road and head up the hill into what my husband apparently thinks is going to be Christmas tree territory. He may have been right, as there were signs everywhere pointing to this lot or that lot or the other lot down there. Do we go to any of those? No. I don't know why other than to say that perhaps the mood just didn't strike him. We instead drive... and drive... and drive... and drive... in circles. The short person in the back seat is piping up about needing to go to snowy mountain to get a Christmas tree and I'm trying to convince her that the view of Mt. Hood is the closest we're going to get.

But she just keeps on and after about 45 minutes of driving in circles I'm figuring she's maybe right- after all, had we simply headed in that direction we'd darn near be there by now!
Finally, my husband sees a sign that piques his interest. "Any tree $10.00." Okay, I can go for that. After all, I don't like the ones that say "Any tree $30.00" when I'm looking to buy a tree that's maybe 3-feet tall. So, we follow the $10 tree signs to...

A private drive.

That goes on for a mile.

I'm starting to think that this is going to be one of those times where we're going to be the victims in some horrific movie scene where there's a mad man with an axe waiting for us at the end of this long road because we were the only idiots willing to drive 30 miles to get a $10 tree!

Finally, we get to the end of the drive, and instead of a man with an axe, there is A MAN WITH A CHAIN SAW!!! and a big, friendly grin... as well as a bunch of other cars and happy families, so I guess all was well. LOL

All the trees were nobles that were about 10-12 feet tall, but the man with the saw said that they were going to salvage them all and replant, so we could take any tree we wanted for the price I mentioned above-- even if that meant chopping the tree right in half and taking only the top.

We set off in search of the perfect tree, me carrying the short person up a big hill on top of a not so snowy mountain, but definitely a very cold one. Our heads were craned back looking at tree tops.

Now, here's the truly funny part...

We've not been able to have a floor tree since we got Sam. His tendency to pee on everything has prevented us, or rather killed, our like of greenage on the ground. So after an hour, my husband finally found a tree top that he thought was perfect and chopped the tree right in half. It wound up being as tall as him! It's a noble, so if you shorten it, you take off the fullest branches, and you can't take off from the top because then it looks funny.

Now, in my defense, I really believed we would be getting a 3-foot tree. It would have fit in the trunk. Which is why our little Honda drove home with a 6-foot tree strapped to the hood even though there was a perfectly good truck at home in which to haul it.

Later that same day...

So, we get home from Christmas tree shopping, eat dinner, and start cleaning up. At the risk of making it sound as though I don't bathe my daughter, I tell her in an excited voice, "Guess what?! We're going to go take a bath!"

The short person, who has somehow figured out incredible timing and delivery, grabs her heart and lets out a gasp comparable to that of 100 people that have just been told they've won the lottery.

I died laughing. Her first heart attack-- I'm so proud.

Still later this same day, we decide to decorate the Christmas tree. It's a nice evening, Christmas Vacation is on the television and I am pulling out 35 years of collected ornaments to hang on the tree.

Now, I expected my daughter to help. I even figured that I'd give her the non-breakable, squishy, stuffed ornaments so she could do it all by herself. However, if you've ever had a two-year old you know that nothing ever works according to planned.

The short person picked up and dropped ornament after ornament, while I had mini heart-attack after mini heart-attack. Which will explain why, if you come to my house, most of the ornaments are still in a box and the tree has ornaments on the very bottom... and the very top.

The end. LOL...

I Think I'm Wanted for Bank Robbery

Yesterday afternoon, I needed to take a small check to the bank. I ran through the downpour of rain, inside, to what I felt was a very friendly branch. Everything was open and there was a hustle and bustle of happy people-- mostly tellers, which is unusual, but they really seemed to enjoy working there and I thought that was nice. I was immediately ready to switch branches, but that's neither here nor there.

I make it up to the counter and give the money to the teller and tell him I need to make a deposit. Usual standard procedure stuff. I notice that he's young. Cute. Friendly. And he writes my name better (prettier) than I do. I pause to think that's maybe something to do with his being left-handed.

He finishes writing everything down and asks me to slide my debit card through the reader, which I do, and then enter my pin number. Check! All completed.

He looks at the computer screen and I get ready to leave... I just need my receipt and the final "Have a nice day" so that I know the transaction is complete. But nothing is happening-- or rather what's happening, is that he's just standing at the computer STARING at it.

Umm...okay, that's weird. I know my balance is low, but... Wait! How low is it? I calculate in my head. No, I should still have money in there.

But the look on his face is getting more and more serious-- and he's stopped looking at me.

I'm thinking... okay, what's going on? when he calls over to the teller beside him. "I think you probably want to look at this..." A blond girl goes over and looks at the screen. "Huh..."

This little conference brings over two more employees who are looking at this computer screen their faces all going from curious to dire and I'm starting to do a little freak dance in my head.
Identity theft?! Did they finally find out about that bank robbery in Tennessee? Am I wanted by the FBI? Is there a mug shot of someone that looks like me on the screen? Oh wait, maybe that bank robbery was in Ohio. Am I wanted for murder? Have they frozen my account?

WHAT'S GOING ON?!?!?!

Finally, he looks back at me and smiles and I resist the temptation to look behind me to see if there's a security guard standing there. The other tellers walk away. He hands me my receipt and as he opens his mouth to say "Have a nice night" I have to ask... what the heck was that about?

"They've grounded all planes in the Northwest due to the severe weather warning."

I laughed and told him that for a second there I was worried that maybe I was wanted for something-- to which he chuckles-- and I leave.

Sheesh!