Tag Archives: Christmas

Christmas cake revisited

We’re getting ready to go to my in-laws’ for Christmas–we leave tomorrow, as soon as I get off work. The day after Christmas, we’re connecting with Heidi, Mike and little James in Indianapolis and driving to Wisconsin, where we’ll spend three days with my parents and touch in with Mama Kitty and Big Jake. From there, my husband and I hop on a train back to Chicago, where our good friend Tyler and his lovely lady Liz will be at our apartment (we mailed them a key in case you’re curious). And the day after that, we head to South Bend for our annual New Years party!

So if you’re wondering where the heck I am in the days to come, now you know.

The preparations involve:

-Packing for a week, and light enough that we can carry it all back on the train.

-Packing every single outfit I may possibly want to wear . . . which conflicts with the whole concept of ‘packing light.’ I’ll be duking it out with the suitcase tonight.

-Packing up my old camera for bequeathment to Heidi–more about that soon!

-Cleaning the house! We can’t have Tyler and Liz entering a den of filth.

-Trying to rid the hallway once and for all of its weird funk. Help me, Airwick!

–Figure out the computer situation so that I can manage to log in remotely to my work computer on a daily basis. Yep, I’m “off” for the week between Christmas and New Years . . . but not quite “off” if you know what I mean.

Presents have already been transported to Indiana, materials to make my annual Christmas cake await in the kitchen of my mother-in-law Sara, and, well, there you have it. Now if you feel the need to send Christmas mojo, good karma, well wishes, or prayers my way, you can locate me . . . in your mind.

Alrighty then! For the rest of what I want to share this morning, check out this link, which will take you to my post last year about Christmas cake. My husband and I don’t have a lot of traditions at this point. We’ve never celebrated Christmas on our own, and have no kiddos. But the one thing that I’ve made a point to do every year is whip up an angel food cake and . . . well, you can read it about it yourself. It’s my favoritest thing. It makes me feel all Christmassy inside.

So! Where are all of you going to be next week? And anyone want to jump on the Christmas cake bandwagon?

Where Santa’s letters actually go

In the village of North Pole, Alaska, lives a man named Santa Claus.

Or so the story goes.

Fun fact–the town of North Pole is actually South of Fairbanks, where Heidi lives. So she can claim with utmost authority “I live North of North Pole.” Of course, North of the North Pole is a different matter.

As I’ve mentioned before, the town hosts a very large Christmas store, where you can purchase Alaska paraphenalia, crêches, ornaments, Christmas trees . . .

. . . and even visit with the fenced-in reindeer out back. Hello Prancer. Or is it Dancer? Sorry. . . you all look the same to me.

While we were there in September, we decided to get an ornament. There were so many choices that it was a difficult task.

The felt sweater or the little wooden sled? The snowflake or the moose?

Thankfully, little James had a clear opinion.

Posted on some of the walls and columns of the store . . . letters to Santa!

I guess they come somewhere after all. I heard that parents can pay “Santa” to actually answer these letters. I wonder what Santa’s going rate is these days. Anyway, I wanted to put up a couple of these letters as we enter the Christmas season for your enjoyment and amusement.

Can I please

have three Junie B. Jones. And some Junie B. books. One stupid smelly bus, the christmas one, and a monster under her bed plus some beads. Thanks. Love,

Abagaile.

Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Get Me
a Castle
Pleas
Dan
Marinoe
Jersy

Dear Santa, am I beaing good for Christmas? I hope I am. Do you have little Elves? How are you doing? How old are you? Here’s a Chistmas list

E-Kare
Fisher Price sweet streets
play CD
Lizzemicd
a pitcher of you and Mrs. Clas and elves
from Erin kinney

Dear, Santa

I have been a little naghty This year I am sorry. If I end up getting any thing this year I would love to have a puppy, I would help out more at the house. Santa I would not ask for anything els for the rest of the year.

Love,

Mackenzie

It will be a while before this little guy writes his first letter to the Big Fat Bearded Man.

Lookin’ good in that hat there, James.

Do I have to keep wearing this?

So–did you guys ever write letters to Santa? And did you believe in him? And do your kids write letters to Santa? And how much is Santa charging these days for a response?