The Christmas Horse

Today is my last day of work before Christmas. Yeah for me! I'm excited to have some time off to get something done at home. Last weekend I went to Provo to stay with Pansy. We spent the day intermittently shopping and going to Christmas activities. This is what our day looked like:

1. Eat lunch
2. Go to Target
3. Go to Choir practice/school
4. Go to Barnes & Noble
5. Go to the Ward Christmas Party
6. Go to a Pie Party
7. Go to Wal-Mart

There were way too many people at Wal-Mart. I mean it was 11:30 on a Saturday night. There were a ton of kids there. What were they doing up that late? I shouldn't have been up that late and they definitely should not have been.

I finally have my tree up. Dad and FarmerBoy were kind enough to tangle with all of the wires to get it up for me. I then spent Tuesday night decorating it. The lights are special, but that is because I did them myself. They kind of make a net. They are mostly white, with two strings of colored ones. I think it is a gyp to have only white lights on the Christmas tree. They are so boring. You need a splash of color.

Yesterday, I went over to Moroni and picked up 20 turkey breasts. No, they were not all for me. They were for our employees and apparently not all turkeys are created equal, as I was given very specific instructions on exactly what type of bird to pick up (or part of a bird). I left about 9:45 and got home from work at 8:30. It was a long day for me, and I've even been being productive at work today. I know, it is a little weird for me. As of now, all of the turkeys except one have been delivered. We had a bit of snowstorm yesterday, and apparently a lot of people don't believe in plowing roads. They were pretty icy in a lot of places.

I'd like to send a Hell-o to Roo as she can't come home for Christmas since she hurt her back. Coo, Coo's wife and NooKoo are going up to Washington and Loo and Loo's husband will spend the day in Provo. That leaves Me, Mom, Dad, Da, S.Q. and FarmerBoy home for Christmas. That seems like such a small group to have at home--a true sign we're a big Mormon family. Changing topics, it is now time to tell of a Christmas tradition.

Many years ago, before I was in existence, my Dad set a rule that we could not get up until 7 a.m. on Christmas morning. Mom always thought that this was too late and she believed that we should have negotiated for an earlier time. We had tried to negotiate for an earlier time. This is how those negotiations went.

Dad: You can't get up until seven.
Us: Six.
Dad: Eight
Us: Five
Dad: Ten
Us: O.K. Seven is early enough

As we got older, we began more negotiations--for a later time. Needless to say, we wouldn't wake up at 7 a.m. as had been tradition forever. We all used to sleep in the basement on Christmas eve. Well, one year, we wouldn't wake up and all of a sudden there was loud pounding on the our ceiling--this was about six a.m.--I mean it wasn't even seven, yet. We ignored it a few times, but it wouldn't stop, so we dragged ourselves and went out upstairs to see if Mom was trying to get us out of bed before the appointed hour. Mom wouldn't admit to pounding a stick on the floor, claiming it was the "Christmas Horse" that woke us up. Now, every year the "Christmas Horse" has to wake us up if we don't get out of bed early enough.