the start of the cookies

 The bakers:

 I could not have done this without them.  They're intrepid and know what needs to be done.

 Working on the gingerbread:

 The dishes, ugh. They're long gone now.

 And this little cutie--I tried to get a picture of her for a while, but gave up. She's not a cooperator, doesn't smile or even hold still long enough to not be blurry.

Love, Val

one year of elin

 A year ago the dog breeder called to tell us she had a couple left over puppies.  We were waiting for a litter due in February, but just in case, maybe we were interested in a puppy now?

She sent a photo and we were so delighted to go get this extra puppy.  She was mostly black and people preferred more definite Landseer markings.  She also was a female, less in demand than the males, and she had an umbilical hernia--not a problem really, and easily repaired when she's spayed, which we have yet to do.

Yah, fine, we TOTALLY want the extra puppy!

 So this is a picture from last year when we were living around the clock in the puppy camp, kids taking turns sleeping in the family room with her, defending ourselves from her needle sharp teeth and sassy attitude.

 She was such a welcome balm, having said good bye to Sam in August. I knew I'd miss Sam, but the extent of it was terrible.  And Elin isn't Sam.  Sam was friendly and bold. Elin is cautiously friendly.  Sam would get up in my space and then inevitably shake her coat out, splattering slobber EVERYWHERE.  I hated it!  It made me holler, so aggravated.

Elin slobbers a fraction of what we were used to and never gets in my space and splatters slobber around.

 Sam--

Sam did this--and one time it went right in my mouth.  Ugh.  It tasted like exactly nothing, but I was still extremely disgusted.

A year later, we are finished with the teeth and the nipping. She still sleeps belly up.  We're also mostly done with that kennel.

For a while I was able to easily coax her in there with Hawaiian buns. (I mean, who wouldn't go after one of those?)  But this winter she happily sleeps in the kennel when she wants to with the door open, but resists being sent in there on my whims.

Okay, fine.

We've been leaving her out at night and when we're gone on errands and she causes no trouble.

 This is from Thursday, I think, a cozy nap on the couch  beside the belly-up dog.

 And this sugar plum nestled in her little nest.

 I took this photo of the mayhem after they'd gone home.

Whatever.

It's hurting nothing.

 And that's the end. 

Lots of love, Val

band concert

Maria took these lovely pictures.  Apparently Kari is behind that music stand next to the other clarinet players.  Tim's obviously the tall guy in back.

Love you all, MOM

more december

This girl took a fine, long, sweaty nap on the couch.

She woke up in a good mood in her nest of old doll blankets. Those flowered ones are blankets I sewed out of my mom's old kitchen curtains.  That's some kind of weird doll blanket history.

I would not have taken the afternoon to set up the Alpine Christmas Village, but I'm surprised by how glad I am the girls did it.

It appears as an old friend.

 And this poor guy, felled by wind and storms. He's up again, on his feet, cords adjusted, looking sharp.  I'm devoted to him and the good will he extends to the ten thousand plus cars that drive by my house every day.  We live on a county road, not even a state highway. 

The busy road is not a selling point, and neither is our 1947 boiler or the original windows (sigh) but since 1988, I have not minded any of it.  If there were an emergency, I could run outside and flag down a car within 90 seconds.

There are people around all the time.  I like it.

 But inside the house it's warm and quiet.  The boiler heats beautifully. The windows have been nicely keeping out the elements for seventy years.  Everyone is fine.

 On the dining room cabinet we have this big wax candle, and a Lego guy who takes up space with a figurine from Occupied Japan in the 1940s. 

I like it.

 This is the face of Santa Claus himself adorning the stove.

 A Christmas canister my brother in law, Paul gave me on a Christmas where we drew names.  I don't even ever put it away. In July? Christmas mittens on the cupboard.

 My aunt Anita gave this to my mother years ago. The worm is to be filled with water which intends to leak into the plant.

My plant is plastic. Water away.

But it reminds me of  Aunt Anita every darn day, which is a very good thing.

 My mother in law gave us this when they moved up north.  We love it, and that's the truth.

 But this?  This is the office, cluttered with Christmas gifts, papers and a mountain of Accounts Receivables.  The Receivables are so overwhelming.  Please pay your plumber.

If you have the money, please go do it right now. Put it in the mail tomorrow.

If you can't pay him? Please call him and explain and set up a payment plan.  He'll be happy to hear from you, create a plan.

Don't ignore the man.

Good night, with so much love, Val

snow!

 It started raining this afternoon and switched over to this sleety snow during the evening.  I had to brush off Santa once--any weight knocks him down.  I'll turn off the electricity before bed, don't want the weather to damage him overnight.

They made their trip to see Santa tonight. I had to work and couldn't go, but that's okay.  Julia went along and it was a huge success.

A thousand miles away it's December on the beach too, beautiful Florida.

Onward.  It's twenty days until Christmas.

Love, Val

christmas village

 We went this morning for singing, eating, games, and fun.

It was the usual sweaty fun time, did not disappoint.  Alicia's parents were there too, haven't seen them in weeks, since the cabins were closed up, so that was a lot of fun.

 My grandson is way over on the right, beautifully singing with his friends.  On the left is a funny baby delighted by another baby in the pew behind, just so adorable.

And these three. She snagged herself a play date back to their house after church--had to call her mother and make sure this was all okay.  It was.  But first I made her pinky swear that she would not scream or fuss or in ANY WAY be difficult when it was time to leave.  These kinds of scenes cause her parents to take away her tablet time, and swear to me you will not do this and lose your tablet.

She agreed. When it was time to leave, she was nicely cooperative, I'm told.

These kids came for the evening while their parents went Christmas shopping.  Jay put the Swedish meatballs through a trial run, practice the recipe before Christmas Eve and make sure he had it right.

Fall right on the floor: Delicious. A success in every way.

This child told me she had already eaten.

 These guys were coaxed into eating a little:

 Her? She has no teeth, eats no meatballs or any solid food.

 And a fine nest was built under the bench.

 Ice cream cones were eaten:

They worked on painting projects.

Shortly after this, their parents came back and took them home.

And that's the end of the night and a goofy dog who fell asleep on my pile of clean clothes. She's in heat, so she's clingy and serious.

Dog Obedience classes were supposed to start on Monday, but that seemed like a real bad idea all at once. This would be nothing but a distraction.  I called the school and they said it was better to defer until the next session later in January.  Great.

And that's the end of tonight.

Nothing but love.

Love, Val