And to all, a Good Night!

This entry was posted on 12/24/2005 1:34 PM and is filed under uncategorized.

Trackbacks

• Trackbacks are closed for this entry.

Comments

• 12/24/2005 2:56 PM Pookie wrote:
  Contrary is such a martyr. Me, I was a true artiste at peek-sneaking before Christmas. Don't believe that "I want to be surprised" stuff, either. She told me what to buy, I went and bought it, and it's sitting in a very large box, which can't be missed in our living room. But as for Christmas memories... I suppose I have three that truly stand out. The first isn't a happy one, because we were certain our little dog was about to die. She'd been hit by a car in September, and partially paralyzed, and had gone downhill. Christmas morning she was howling in pain, losing control of her bladder, and for some reason none of us cared about gifts. But on the upside, she survived, eventually regained control of her hind end, and aside from a funny hitchup in her getalong, she was fine for many more years. The next standout Christmas was when I was a college sophomore, and my parents bought me a guitar. It wasn't a hugely expensive guitar, but it was of good quality. Dad was the finest guitarist I've ever known, so his judgement in picking out a guitar meant a lot. I was completely surprised for the first time in my life. Perhaps that explains why they worked so hard to dissuade me from buying a guitar of my own. Finally, two years later, my father had suffered a serious medical disability and had to take early medical retirement. Although they had carefully planned for retirement, they hadn't planned on retiring *yet*. And so from August to December, they were living on savings, which were running low. I didn't want or expect any gifts, but under the tree were a new pair of cowboy boots. My old ones were literally falling apart, and now I had new ones. This was 1984, and these were Wal Mart boots, which meant they were leather-looking plastic. But still... my parents were struggling, but bought me new boots. I don't care that they were plastic. I don't care that they were $29 at Wal Mart. It was one of the most meaningful gifts anyone could get me. - Pookie
  Reply to this
• 12/24/2005 4:42 PM Andy wrote:
  i have a little to expand on the guitar. this man, who i never really got to know all that well because he died when i was little, was not your typical "grandpa guitarist". he didn't have one of those willie nelson wooden set-ups, he had a bright red glittery electric guitar that he played every sunday ,on oxygen and barely able to walk, at their little non-denominational church in western arkansas. blows my mind, i wished i'd known him better. as for me, i haven't really had enough christmases for many stories. though the year i got my (other) grandpa's coin collection was pretty cool. my brother got the old el camino from him that year, and thinks he got the better deal. how naive. :p there's also an addition to the gracie sweater saga, i'd abandoned all hope when our friends (the same ones who'd helped wrestle the first sweater on to her) decided to get me pug accesories (some people get cell phone accesories, some people get car accesories, apparently i get pug accessories) for my birthday. this included a nice american-flag decor collar, a pug santa hat which she WILL have pictures in tommorrow, and, you guessed it, a new sweater. now, a few days ago we had to take all the animals (5 cats not including Atticus Finch, the new and last kitten, plus gracie) to the vets for general shots and maintenence. (can you imagine the joy?) gracie also needeed her semi-annual grooming. i saw my opportunity, and after wrestling gracie through her blood test and booster shots (plus getting her on the scale to weigh in at a slightly overweight 16 1/2 lbs), i took her back to the groomer, and made the kind of request that contrary no doubt loathes. i asked her to put on the sweater after grooming her. (note: not because i wanted gracie sweatered, but the friends who bought said sweater are having christmas dinner with us tommorow) i come back at the appointed time to retrieve my pug. after waiting in the lobby, out comes an intern (the same one who'd help hold her for the injections earlier), carrying the newly clothed canine. as you can imagine, 16 1/2 lbs of squirming pug is not exactly the type of dog you usually carry, particularly when a leash is already attached. having paid earlier, i was handed gracie without so much as an adieu. i soon learned why he was carrying her. as soon as her paws touched the sidewalk outside, she started squirming out of the sweater. this took her only about 30 seconds, presumably because she'd been practicing. and thus ends, hopefully forever, my dog's relationship with sweaters. as a side note, the vet/groomery in question always ties a seasonal bandana around gracie's neck (or the area between her jowls and chest anyway). these have always been much appreciated, and gacie never minds them. this time, in addition to the sweater, gracie was wearing the most hideous bandana i've ever seen, some wierd design of vomit-colored circles on a black background. this is four days before christmas, and all the other bandanas have been seasonal. i suspect this is the dog groomer equivalent of spitting in the fast food burger.
  Reply to this
• 12/24/2005 4:43 PM Andy wrote:
  Merry Christmas!
  Reply to this
• 12/24/2005 7:06 PM Pookie wrote:
  My kid. Funny guy.
  Reply to this
• 12/25/2005 1:18 AM jojothedogfacegirl wrote:
  Andy... you've a great sense of of humor. And your last line... about the "dog groomer's equivalent of spitting in the fast food burger"... feaking absolute genious. Two "Santa" related memories... 1. (Not Christmas time)... but my aunt (Contrary's Mom) had passed away.. I am explaining it to my 4yr old son (he's 20 now). He's asking the usual questions... "will we see her again?"... "Where does she go?"... "Can she see us?" Sooo.. I told her that she could watch over us, but we couldn't see her. He said... I know... I know... she's sees us to be sure we are good!"... "She's just like God and Santa Clause!!!". I said, "exactly", and knew my aunt would have approved with that explanation. Other Santa story... well... My cousin and I were 11... I was very busty for that age...and my Mom thought it would "cute" if me and our cousin sat in Santa's lap. It wasn't "cute"... it was, however, a great opportunity for the fat, old pedophile in the red suit. He had great technique... "give Santa a hug.." I was stunned... I think I walked away looking like Ralphie did as he walked away from Santa in The Christmas Story. Merry Christmas everyone!!!
  Reply to this
• 12/25/2005 6:18 AM Contrary wrote:
  Did everyone get what they wanted? I did!
  Reply to this
• 12/25/2005 7:23 AM Andy wrote:
  i did! http://www.sibelius.com/cgi-bin/home/home.pl blow what i was using out of the water, it's the same thing my band director uses
  Reply to this
• 12/26/2005 12:26 PM Dawn wrote:
  In 1976, my cat took out the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, leaving all the delciate glass ornaments on the floor. But I also got a star wars shirt and a "princess Leia" doll that year. I loved Leia, but she was an Amazon next to my Barbies.
  Reply to this
• 1/4/2006 3:08 PM raggedyandy wrote:
  thank you, jojo.
  Reply to this

Leave a comment