Christmas dinner was served two days late this year because of a monster snow storm that trapped me in my house. It also trapped my brother (who has a truck and laughs at blizzards. He wasn’t laughing that day). I had my head so far up my ass so buried in my Cisco books that I didn’t really notice that I couldn’t get out of my front door. Okay, that’s not true. I noticed. I was just so worried about the exam that I didn’t care.
Here’s a picture from the first day of the storm.
Had I known what my presents were, I would have hired a snow plow to dig me out.
A couple years ago, I went to a glass show with MoC. I am not very antique-y and I am definitely not craft-y (but “crafty” is a different story) but I really like the glass shows. At this particular show I fell in love with an amber elephant candy dish made by the Cooperative Flint Glass Company. I’m not sure how old it was, but I do know the company went out of business in 1937. So it was at least 70 years old. I always seem to fall for (and pine for) the unattainable.
For $895 I could have taken him home. I passed. Last year, we went to the glass show again and I found the booth again so I could say hi to my magnificent amber friend. The vendor told me his trailer had been burglarized at a show earlier in the year – and the amber elephant had been stolen. Nooo!
Without telling me, MoC went home and searched for a similar one online. It took a whole year, but she found a smaller one – his little brother, I guess.
That was the present that almost made me cry.
But this was the present that made me squeeeeeeeeee like a little girl at a Jonas Brothers concert.
MoC got one for herself – because she is always buying stuff for herself around the holidays – and when she saw how much fun I had playing with it, she decided to get me one, too. So now? I can find you.
“Michael” and Jo AnnE told us that we shouldn’t use our home addresses on it – which makes sense. If someone steals it, all they have to do is touch “Go Home” and drive to your house. I never would have thought of that – mainly because I have difficulty thinking like a criminal. “Michael”, however, seems to have no trouble with that at all.
I decided to use the address of a nearby Catholic church as my “home” address. Only I was off by one digit – and put in the address of the convent across from the church. That makes me smile every time I think about it. I’m pretty sure God gets the joke.