Freedom's Comments

I decided to answer yesterday's comments here:

When I pushed the publish button on yesterday’s "Freedom" post, I sort of cringed. I thought that I would receive some flack back, and I was ready for the fight. My husband and brothers would tell you that I am always ready for a fight. Last night when I sat down to look through the comments, I was shocked to see that there were eight. I haven’t had eight comments on a post in ages. I almost did not want to look. Sometimes I don’t want to look at road kill either, but I can’t seem to help myself. So I looked and was surprised that everyone was in agreement. I’m not sure we feel exactly the same, but pretty darn close. Great minds think alike – maybe I should cringe at that thought.

So here is what we are doing this Christmas. My family is meeting tomorrow night at Mom’s. We are having a Chinese Christmas and a Mexican food potluck – ethnic night. There is a good chance that some of the cousins might come here on Friday to shoot guns, throw pots, see the house, etc. Friday night we are going to the Hays Christmas dinner. We are supposed to bring cranberry sauce. Easily done with a can, but Jes wants to make the real stuff. I told her to go for it. Christmas morning we usually swing by Mom’s again for the big gunfight. It is a tradition to buy toy guns and have a wild shoot-out on Christmas morning - well pretty much the whole day you'd better watch your back. It gets pretty wild. The year that we had marshmallow guns was particularly wild. Mom found little marshmallows all over her house for weeks after Christmas. Since we are doing an early Christmas at Mom’s, we may skip the gunfight this year and go straight to Electra to see Toby’s family. His sisters do up a big Christmas dinner with beef loin cooked on the grill, and they are excellent cooks. I’m thinking about making a pumpkin cheesecake. This year Toby’s entire family will be there, so it should be fun.

Am I ready for all of this? Heck no. Am I worried about any of it? Naaa. The great procrastinator lives on.

In other news:
Since yesterday was an absolutely beautiful day, we finished the stucco – well, the first coat anyway. We got Silas, an eleven-year-old neighbor, to help. He was a great "get me-fetch me-put me" or gopher or slave as Jesse called him. We didn’t have much to do to finish the stucco, but it was the tall part of the house making it difficult. I can’t begin to tell you how sore I am after each of these stucco encounters. From my hands to my toes, I am sore and worn. Maybe someone will give me a massage for Christmas. This photo was taken last week, but it is the part of the house we did yesterday.