10 seconds, not a second more

It took an inordinate amount of time last night to figure out how to use the timer on my camera so that we could do an end-of-the-year family photo.

At least we weren't wasting film.

If it weren't for Bridget's perseverance, we never would have made it. I have better luck with relaxed cats in wastepaper baskets. and mixed-up hyacinths. Another week of this weather and we'll have to think about weeding the garden.

tis the season

In this area, shopping is a combat sport this close to Christmas. It takes a team. Tom, Bridget, and I made it to Costco this morning, but unfortunately thousands of others were ahead of us. Bridget took on the boring job, standing in line with an empty cart. Tom and I separated and met her there. Yes, she had to answer a few questions, but it worked, and anyone she let go ahead while she waited was probably ecstatic to be behind her.

On the way we made the second-hand store happy by picking up a gift for the house that Tom had been checking out for a few weeks.

It's a mahogany drop-leaf table (that makes two in the house) that has now been cleaned up and resides in the basement. Note the new wall color, painted by Tom in one day on Sunday. Historical note: the pillow on the chair is one of the ones crocheted by Dad's mother, which mother or Martha sent home with me years ago. I think I was supposed to repair the afghan that matches it, which I will do, some day. Another retirement project?

More stores, more parking lots, but enough good luck with parking and lines that the cookies did get made, the same recipe I use each year. This last photo isn't exactly a Christmas photo, but it reminds me of so many that were taken around Christmas at 413 Fair Oaks. Gather the children and line them up: Bridget, John, Will, Cullen, Sara, Mary, and Ben. Thank you Ed, for posting so many great photos on your Web page.

Bono and the Prince of Monaco

Tom and I may be stuck in our routines, the cats are working hard at sleeping 20 hours a day, but both C and B are out and about.

Cullen's move last weekend went well, or at least that's the report I got. He and Tom even had the fun of gerryrigging a ramp to drop a refrigerator through a door that had about 1/4 inch of clearance, or something like that. Those of you with long memories can note that Tom has now officially broken a rule that he made after moving a refrigerator up a flight of stairs for Ed in Clinton NY— the rule being that he would never again move a refrigerator. I don't put addresses out on the Internet, but Cullen is now in Bethesda, closer to a Metro, near the new County swim center and some great bike trails, and about 20 minutes closer to an occasional Sunday dinner.

Meanwhile, Bridget is touring (working) in Monaco, trying to find the perfect spot (and weather) to film an advertisment. This came from her Blackberry on Wednesday:

This morning we drove up into the mountains to Menton D'Utelle, a picturesque nunnery. As we drove the rain started and we literally drove up into the clouds. The nunnery is also an Inn. The woman who runs the Inn made us lunch, some sort of pate, then some sort of vegetable goulash, and then lamb over noodles. It rained all day and the fog never moved away. After waiting til 3pm we called it a day and headed back to the hotel.

The drivers here are extreme and the roads are narrow. I did manage to convince our driver to drive us thru Monte Carlo last night on the way back to the hotel. The Christmas lights are fantastic! Monaco is clean and shiny even at night. The driver said the ratio of people to police is 4:1. The Palace where the Prince of Monaco rules/lives is stunning in the night light. The "yachts" in the harbour in Monaco are the size of cruise ships. The largest one in the harbour is owned by a weapons dealer—at least that is what I was told. We also drove by where Bono (U2 singer) has a house.

And because it wouldn't be a blog without a picture, here's a winter shot from the past. This would be the hill up behind the house on the Heights in Little Valley, and obviously that is Tom and Bridget (in one of gramma's hats?) checking out something frozen in the snow.