The entire documentation team (with the exception of our manager, so that made a whopping four of us) were all clustered in one of the tiny conference rooms hashing out a template to use henceforth for chapter introductions (you can just taste the excitement, can’t you?) when one of the development managers poked his head in the door.

“Did you guys get the email from **big cheese boss**?” he asked. And at our blank looks – because we’d been hashing out the aforementioned template for the past hour or so – he continued. Seems that **big cheese boss** fired off a company-wide email, telling everyone to go home early and have fun.

Well, heck. Don’t have to tell us twice! We were almost finished with our meeting anyway, so we wrapped everything up and then scooted out of there.

So I got to come home 3 hours earlier than planned – giving me time to do absolutely nothing productive except park myself on the living room couch and read or watch TV until shortly before 7:30, when we both dashed upstairs to change. My parents came over to help us finish off Richard’s birthday cake and then we headed off to the play.

The musical theater company just keeps getting better and better. They did Little Shop of Horrors for their New Year’s Eve production, and did a marvelous job. The guy who was the puppeteer for the plant had an incredible amount of energy, and the man who played the dentist (and every other small bit part in the play!) was perfect. With the exception of forcing the audience to cringe through “Suddenly Seymour” with the guy playing Seymour forgetting how to sing in tune, and a few spots in “The Meek Shall Inherit” where the band, chorus, and soloists lost each other, it was one of the most entertaining shows we’ve seen them perform.

Once the play was over, the festivities began. There was a buffet of quite possibly the blandest Chinese food ever made waiting for us for dinner, followed by a table piled with cheesecake and pie for dessert. And then around 11:30, after taking over an hour to set up and get ready, the band finally began to play. Most of us got out in the aisles and danced to the music, even forming a few impromptu congo lines and once doing the bunny hop. Age ranged from very small to very old, so it was a rather wide mix of people present, but it all worked out to a lot of fun.

People were going around the theater passing out horns and party hats and cups of champagne or sparkling cider. We cheered in the new year with plenty of noise and singing and danced a little more and then when the four of us could barely keep our eyes open as we sat down to rest, we decided that perhaps it was time to go home.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Richard’s birthday is tomorrow. However, I’m working all day, and then we’re off to a New Year’s Eve production of a play at the local musical theater, followed (or preceded, we’re not exactly sure which) by dinner, dancing, and other festivities. So amid all that his birthday would get lost in the shuffle, and I didn’t think that was exactly fair.

So I decreed that today was his pseudo birthday – at least from me. I made waffles for breakfast this morning at his request and we ate them at the new table in the breakfast nook, lavishly covered in butter and syrup and whipped cream. While we ate, he unwrapped his presents from me. He’s about as impatient as I am with gifts, hating to wait once they’ve been given to him, and had already opened the presents from both my sisters while we were all over at my parents’ house for the holiday festivities. I’d already warned him that a majority of the presents were accessories (of a sort) for the grill he received for Christmas, but I managed to sneak in a few other things too – a video for his computer nerd side, and also a book he’s been wanting that is perfect for his philosopher side. When I was out doing the after-Christmas shopping Wednesday I also got him a sweater and a shirt as two early presents. I tend to be just as impatient to give gifts as I am to open them. In a way it works out well sometimes – this means we manage to stretch out any gift-getting situation through more than just the usual one-day event.

This afternoon was a lazy slow one. I curled up on the couch downstairs, lap full of sleepy cats, reading some of my Christmas gift books while Richard sat upstairs and managed to kill off all the bad guys and finally reach the end of his computer game. I’m not big into computer games myself (Civilization II is the notable exception. I’m afraid to say I’m addicted to that one), but I actually really do enjoy watching other people play them if the plot is interesting enough, and this one had all sorts of nefarious and creepy critters for him to blast away while he solved whatever mystery it entailed.

Our laziness was momentarily interrupted long enough for us to get to the hardware store and get the last few items we needed to finish the end tables purchased yesterday. They got their first coats of stain yesterday afternoon and this afternoon the second was applied. I think it’s fairly safe to say that both of us fall rather heavily into the amateur classification when it comes to working with wood, but with a second coat of the walnut stain, they started to look a bit less like a high school woodworking shop project and more like something we could be proud of. I think we have a lot of practice ahead of us before we should attempt this on any piece of furniture that won’t be hidden away in our bedroom for only us to see, but still, it was a lot of fun to sit on the floor of our garage together finishing furniture.

There is cake cooling on the kitchen counter, and as soon as I am done writing this, I’ll frost it and we’ll eat it with ice cream, in front of a fire in the living room, and while watching one of the many videos that have been added to our collection this holiday season. Happy birthday, Richard. Grr! Argh!

Last Sunday morning I made a meatloaf. It was loosely based on a recipe I found, and involved mixing grated carrots, zucchini, potatoes, and onions into the glop before shaping it into a loaf for baking. I covered it with plastic wrap and stuck it in the refrigerator to cook for dinner later. Later, however, we got a call to come over for dinner to my parents’ house, and since both sisters and their respective families were there, we went. The meatloaf was covered with aluminum foil and put in the freezer for later.

Thursday, I took it out of the freezer to thaw, but it was still a rock by the time I got home and I didn’t have the patience to wait for it. Besides we hadn’t gone out for salmon tandoori in quite a while, so we were over due. Friday I actually had Richard plop it into the oven in preparation for dinner, but then it was discovered that the ‘possible’ dinner plans with the extended family had in fact become real dinner plans somewhere along the way, and so back the poor meatloaf went into the fridge to wait another day.

When I exercised all the remaining stock options after leaving the Big Fish (be patient, this really does have a point here), we decided to put the bulk of it in savings and investments, but take out a small chunk and go furniture shopping. The hefty check arrived last week, so this weekend we braved the weather and the after-holiday shoppers (of which there really weren’t many, surprisingly) and went in search of end tables, chairs, and a table set for our breakfast nook.

We found them all, and managed to do it by lunchtime, no less. And better yet, everyplace we went had incredible sales. We even managed to find a little store that was closing shop, and that was its last day in open, so they were desperate to get rid of everything. We scored a pedestal table of dark cherry for the master bedroom bay window there for a price far lower than I would have thought possible. The chairs to go with it (found at yet another store) will be delivered in a bit over a week, but just by itself it makes the room look so much nicer!

We broke down the old table and stashed it in the garage to be donated to a thrift store at some later time. I’ve had this old table for years, ever since I bought it and the four chairs (only two of which have survived to this point) for $50 back in college. The entire set was cheaply made and all wobbled to some degree. I’ve desperately wanted to replace it for years.

The new table is gorgeous. Someone gave us a table runner decorated in dull greens and purples that looks really nice down the middle. We might even have to break out the placemats and nice napkins.

And so tonight, seated at our beautiful new table in our beautifully unwobbly chairs, with mugs of mulled cider and the Christmas tree lights on behind us, we finally ate the meatloaf.

When it’s raining really hard, visibility drops, even worse in the past few years since I had the laser surgery done on my eye. On the plus side, my vision in my left eye is nearly perfect and the contacts and glasses I’d worn since early elementary school could be tossed for good. On the down side, my depth perception on that side got worse – much worse when it is dark outside. So in a way, when I drive in the rain, I slide into a type of trance. It’s not a calm and relaxing trance, however. No, this is more of an edgy nervous trance where I sit ramrod straight, both hands on the wheels, and fix my attention firmly on the rear lights directly ahead of me. When the rain gets harder, I turn my wipers up as fast as they will go and mutter Unkind Things about the weather under my breath.

It’s been a pretty wet season – wet enough that I was confronted with irrefutable proof that it is really winter while driving home tonight. The few of us brave enough to take the back roads were forced to stop and then turn around because the road was not only flooded, but there was a fire truck sitting in our way even if we’d wanted to try to cross the mini lake. Apparently someone tried before us and managed to flip their vehicle.

It feels odd getting back into the regular routine. The alarm went off this morning and I was reluctant to do more than hit the snooze button and snuggle deeper underneath the blankets, surrounded by purring, sleepy-eyed cats. But duty called, and I reminded myself that this would only be a ‘two-day week’, since today felt so much like a Monday. My internal clock is off-kilter after this mid-week holiday.

The office was quieter than usual when I arrived, with so many still out on vacation til the end of the week. The break room seemed oddly empty without the clutter of goodies that have crowded the table for the entire week prior to Christmas, and the office doors look bare without their holiday decorations.

A plethora of email greeted me, filled with assignments, deadlines for projects, questions to answer and meetings to accept. My manager warned that things would shortly get busy and it appears she wasn’t mistaken. I’m going to be working pretty hard for the next few weeks and it seems there may even be a few long days in the bargain, but that doesn’t seem all that bad right now.

We went over to my parents’ house after dinner. Older sis is coming down with a sore throat and fever, and so is my little niece, while Bil-2 has finally gotten over his. But there was still enough energy to laugh and talk and play a game of Worst Case Scenario. I was so tired after dinner and not really in the mood to be social, but they are leaving on Saturday to fly back home, and who knows when we’ll see them again.

My mother and my sisters and I always hit the after-Christmas sales. It’s a tradition that will die hard in our family, even though it requires getting up far too early on a morning when all we’d rather do is sleep in. When I arrived at the house, the usual cacophony greeted me, but somehow we managed to get out the door and off to replenish the caffeine supply of myself and my younger sister before hitting the mall, which was unusually empty for this time of year, and so far less stressful than we’re used to. I found cards to send, and a wreath to hang, and stocked up on the plastic gutter hooks we will need to add even more lights to our house next year. Add to that a few sweaters and shirts and even some towels for the guest bathroom, and it was a successful shopping trip. And after that, I slipped quietly back home to check on Richard and take a quick and much-needed nap.

Last year we got family portraits done, but because this year has seen the addition of two new members – Richard and the youngest nephew – there was a push to do it again. This meant we all headed for the busiest and noisiest mall in the area to confront a photographer who was obviously exhausted and wishing she were far, far away, to get mediocre pictures taken while the poor woman and the rest of us did our best to get the three small children in our group to – if not smile, at least quit crying. The children in question were, of course, all smiles and laughter once the pictures were over and we went off to get dinner.

Richard and I slipped away early once the pictures were ready. Tempers were starting to flare and the kids had about had it and Richard really wasn’t feeling well, so it was as good an excuse as any. We were heading for the car when we took a slight detour to the Cingular booth. We’d tossed the idea around before, but somehow tonight it took on a life of its own and 30 minutes later we walked out clutching a pair of cell phones.

I think the best word for today is overwhelmed. I am officially overwhelmed with family. I told Richard this afternoon that I was, in some small way, glad that he wasn’t feeling well, because it gave me the excuse to slip away from the noise and chaos even if only for a half hour at a stretch, and bolster my tolerance levels back up past the danger line.

The problem is that there are far too many people in my parents’ house right now, what with both siblings, their spouses, and their children. There are differing opinions on whether the children should be required to behave, and the tension has started to get to me after only short doses. Today was the day I started to try to time my visits so I could avoid as much of the worst as possible. Unfortunately, it’s not always working.

This morning we got up, dressed, and crept out of the in-laws’ house while it was still almost too dark to see. After the lateness of the Christmas Eve service the night before, the alarm rang far too early and I’m not sure either of us was fully awake until we’d been on the road for at least an hour or more. I kept myself awake singing along to BareNaked Ladies, while Richard dosed on and off beside me. The sun rose beside us – brilliantly pink and purple in the sky – but we were too tired to really do much more than point and nod and yawn.

A stop at home for quick showers and grabbing last minute items and then off to my parents’ house for round two of holiday festivities. We arrived just as the three small people were opening their stockings…or rather, their parents were opening their stockings for them. My nearly-two niece and the 10-month old nephew were having far more fun with whirligigs, and the oldest nephew had absconded with his father’s slinky and was having a grand time dragging that around the room.

The reason we got up so early to drive home this morning came later, at breakfast – plates full of my mom’s sticky rolls, fresh from the oven. At least we weren’t the only two looking half-awake, as the rest had the excuse of very small people for getting up so early.

And then on to presents. In my parents’ house, it’s a free-for-all type of affair. Usually the adults will try to go slow and pay attention to what the others are getting, but there’s no kind of rhyme or reason to who opens which present, unless the gifter has a particular order for the receiver. There is laughter and shouts of ‘oh, look!’ from every corner of the room, and at least one member of each family who is in charge of writing down who gave what to whom so that thank you notes can be sent later. And then suddenly it is all over, except for neat piles of gifts, and a few of us gathering up all the paper and boxes and ribbons to dispose of them later, while the little ones play with whichever toy strikes their fancy, and my mom bustles around in the kitchen gathering up all the ingredients for lunch, trying to make things more ‘elegant’ than they need to be, even though every year we try to get her to just relax with the rest of us.

Richard really liked the grill I gave him (and the apron I made for him by converting a picture, cleverly drawn by EvilPheemy, of a flaming grill into an iron-on for the front), as well as the collection of classic monster movies. And I now have, among other things, a wave keyboard and optical mouse to play with, a box full of books to read, and a gorgeous new sweater from Richard (who has managed to prove several times now that he is very good at picking out stuff for me!). Bil-2 made my mom and I beautiful hand-carved wooden mirrors, and a set of hair picks, and we all once again racked our brains to figure out any possible way he could quit his job and do this for a living (the stuff looks like you could buy it in an expensive specialty store. He is *really* talented!).

The rest of the day was a slow and steady food fest. Overly stuffed with homemade cookies, fudge, candy, crackers and dip, and meatloaf with mashed potatoes and baby peas, we all still managed to find room for pie later on, after the kids had been put to bed and the adults could sit around the family room in an exhausted daze, glad it was finally over.

I did have good intentions for the dip we were to bring today. Richard had copied down a recipe from one of the previous Weight Watchers meetings for a very low fat seven-layer dip, and so he found all the ingredients at the grocery store and this morning I pulled down bowls and cutting boards and knives and the blender to put it all together, before we drove down to his parents’ house for their whole-family Christmas celebration.

The first step called for mixing a can of pinto beans with a green pepper in the blender. A bit odd, I thought, but shrugged and put both ingredients into the container. The mixture that resulted was a strange brownish green color, with a texture that called to mind too many things best left undiscussed, and a smell that didn’t help the imagination one bit.

We poured the concoction hastily down the sink and went to plan B, stirring onion soup mix into the container of sour cream, chopping up a handful of carrots and cucumbers, and settling for that instead. Perhaps not as low fat, but definitely much more edible.

********

Every year, Richard’s mother makes sugar cookies. And every year, her children (or at least those who are present) are required to decorate them. I have heard tales of these cookies from past years – all of them slightly exaggerated and therefore completely believable (especially if you knew Richard and his younger sister). This year, I got to join in the cookie-painting party.

The teddy bear cookie really did look like a rabbit if you turned it on its head, so I can’t be blamed for making the little rabbit in her little blue bikini. However, it was Richard’s father’s idea to make use of two strategically placed chocolate chips (just a note – icing does not stick well to chocolate chips, no matter how many layers you try to apply), and then once we had the beach blanket bimbo bunny girl, she needed a beach blanket bunny boy, so the speedo-wearing upside-down teddy bear-turned-into-a-rabbit was born. We decided – due to the enhancements on the girl bunny, and the lack of enhancement on the boy – that it was an exceptionally cold day out.

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Once the whole family had descended on the house, we all ate pizza and cookies and fudge and opened presents. Stockings came first, filled with all sorts of goodies like lottery tickets, Starbucks gift cards, Bendos, and other goofy little items. Presents came next, with all of us crowded into the living room while the gifts were passed out. I got a paper shredder, which was something I’ve been wanting for a very long time, and Richard got a green man sculpture (something he’s been wanting for even longer). Richard’s mom, both sisters, his niece, aunt, and I all sat on the floor later to play with the niece’s Bop-It Extreme, which managed to completely confuse about half of us who had been ‘practicing’ on a non-Extreme Bop-It earlier in the day. But we eventually got the hang of it, all of us bouncing along to the electronic music while the rest of the family looked on in tolerant amusement.

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Either it wasn’t warm enough in the sanctuary, or Richard’s parents’ church uses a better grade of candles than I’m used to. This was the first year in I don’t know how long that I didn’t get to bend the candles during the candlelight Christmas Eve service. As per tradition (well, tradition to my sisters and I) I immediately removed the candle from its protective outer layer as soon as we sat down in the pew and held it tightly in my hands most of the night. Richard and his younger sister eyed me oddly, and I tried to explain via whispers what I was doing. It was a little disappointing to not actually be able to show them, but then perhaps this is just one of those traditions that stays in my immediate family. I’m not sure every church is ready for their parishioners to hand back twisted, coiled candles as they file out of the service into the night.

We opened our stockings to each other this afternoon, sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, in order to make the present-giving/getting last three days. We each have a small pile of new books to read now – he with his bag of licorice drops and his chocolate orange, and me with my Christmas box of dark chocolate covered espresso beans – when next we’re home again to relax and enjoy them.

Everything is wrapped, and the gifts for Richard’s family are already in the trunk, next to my Christmas stocking (fuzzy and red with a puff-paint name on the top). On the kitchen counter, sitting right next to my purse so I will be sure to remember them, are three plates full of cookies and fudge.

The coffee machine is in parts in the dishwasher, ready to bring to my parents’ house Christmas day. They’ve got a smaller pot that simply can’t handle the coffee-drinking needs of most of the offspring and their spouses, so we’re bringing our cool ‘grind-the-beans-splort-the-water’ coffee maker over to make sure every stays at their caffeinated best.

After dinner tonight, I put together plates of goodies and we braved the cold and went knocking on doors, trying to deliver caloric good will to our neighbors. We only managed to find one set home, but that turned out rather well, as they invited us in and gave us a bag of homemade peanut brittle, and then we all sat around and chatted. We’ve only seen the wife a few times but the husband has been incredibly nice – watering the little trees for us when it was so hot this summer, or volunteering the use of his ladder when we were putting up our lights. I’ve felt incredibly guilty because I *know* he told us his name when we first met him, but neither of us could remember it and it had gotten to the point now where it would be really embarrassing to ask. So as we were walking back to our house, peanut brittle in hand, we both looked at each other. “Larry. It’s Larry,” we said nearly at the same time. We won’t forget this time – I hope!

“I need you out of the house,” I told Richard yesterday, and so today he obliged, leaving me home to struggle with the printer and somehow force it to talk to my computer so I could print out what I needed to complete his last gift (I can tell you this, you see, because even though he reads this journal, it will give him not even a hint as to what the gift is. Bwahaha!).

Prior to me giving the computer a brain wipe and upgrading to Windows 98 we were able to successfully network this printer and there were no problems. Now I can only use it when I connect it directly to my computer, and even then I get strange errors popping up on my screen. The good thing is that if I simply hit the ‘Ignore’ option on those errors, things print just fine, but still it’s a bit annoying to have to negotiate the tangle of cables from three computers, a printer, scanner, DSL modem, Palm Pilot rechargers, and so on just to find the one I need each time I need to print.

But anyway, the point here is that I managed – finally – to get what I needed to print and so the last of the presents are done and wrapped and ready to be opened in only a few days.

Today I also did the last of the baking. One pan of fudge – dark, rich, and full of crushed walnuts. One batch of buttery teacakes rolled in powdered sugar thick enough to leave a delicious mess all over the fingers of anyone who takes a bite. One batch of crisp cookies colored green and pressed from the metal tube of the cookie press into little trees. And most important of all, one batch of red and white twisted cookies curved at the top into little candy canes, sprinkled with sugar and crushed peppermint. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without them.