12.24.17 (9:07 PM, a brief sketch of self, Christmas Eve, celebrating the Great Christmas Squat of 2016)

Laying here in the boy’s room, on the giant, cumbersome, super-bean bag couch-thingy Grandama bought the gang. Curled up with our ol boy Dante, he’s snoring, Mom’s trying to get the gang to sleep. The littlest Coen is hyped up on the spirit of the thing, cinnamon rolls and new toys. It’s hard to talk him out of the battle between the new T-Rex with the glowing red eyes and the commando guy with his truck. 

We told them we would camp out with them for the night, like we did last year at this time. Mom and Dad on the floor. Last year, it was so cold, the thermostat was stuck on 66 degrees, and we couldn’t really do anything to hold the heat better cause it wasn’t ours, and everything was so fucked, it didn’t make sense to weather strip a window. It was great though, sleeping somehow in this room, the only really liveavle space at the time, but even in the ruinedness of the place, and the possibility of some pretty serious life-crisis if our new deal/loan fell through, namely homelessness, yet still we slept like stones. All together. Safe. 

It was a perfect day. We finished up our gifts this morning, making the cinnamon rolls, packing candy and gift bags. We did the drive to my sister’s house and made a surprise visit over to my Grandmas on the way. My kids loved her up. She’s losing it mentally and physically been hating life for a few years now. Did so much for so long, and then took that bad spill at the casino and things were never quite the same after that. But we hugged her, made sure she knew she was loved and appreciated. She said it was the best Christmas gift ever. 

I’d picked up a six-pack of craft brew, Sir Mochalot, from Iowa native Exile Brewery and tossed back two when I got to my sisters. They were delicious, left them outside in the cold and walked in my socks to get another. Shared one with my step-Dad. Laughed and partied with my sisters. The kids after the delight of presents (some bad ass lego sets, and new swing sets) and afterwards chilling  with the cousins were perfect angels. And when we said it was time to go, they were happy to get back for Santa. 

I’m a sucker for nostalgia. Our “new” 1997 Honda Odyssey, just manufactures it. Foggy windows, yet a heater that burns ya up, old car patina throughout , with the cold outside, and the radio blasting, mostly Xmas music, but an occasional trip to a rock station for our own sanity, all made sure the drive was a delight. Noteable soundtrack moments, A great rendition of Creep (not sure by who?), Simple Minds Don’t You as we made the ill advised, yet inevitable trip to grocery store, for bread, onions, yeast, and aforementioned libations. They all love music, cruising, head banging and dancing in their seats, declaring repeatedly, THIS is their jam. 

It’s an orchestra of snores now. Most exquisite, yet mundane sound my ears have ever heard. I sense the lilest is holding on by a thread (a whisper confirms). We’ll rest for a few more minutes. Sneak out of here in bit, after we snuggle our dog some more. Then it’s time to eat Santa’s  cookies, and sneak some presents under the tree. 

Oh and most importantly, we got some snow!!! 

8 thoughts on “12.24.17 (9:07 PM, a brief sketch of self, Christmas Eve, celebrating the Great Christmas Squat of 2016)

  1. Yes, those photos are super. And walking outside in your socks for a beer, and keeping it old out there…these are the delights of the season. And the snores. I have a post I’m working on and it starts with that, with snores. Cheers to ya’, Bill

    1. Merry Christmas Bill! Thanks for keeping in touch, being my digital buddy and encouraging my writing. It’s how often how post share something. You been mentioning mice a lot, I want to do a post on that too. Anyway, hope you and yours enjoy the day!

  2. Keeping it cold out there I meant. God, should be banned from commenting until I’m half-way into my coffee at least.

      1. “Mature restraint.” I’m not buying it. But good on you, all the same! Happy Christmas Austin. Bill

      2. It’s all true! Only had two. Come from people that pound gallon jugs of corn liquor at seventeen, so really have had to develop a mature relationship to booze. Feel like I’ve learned how to not marinate myself in booze. Now, my aching teeth, and sugar drool remnants on my check, testify to other vices! So much candy!

      3. Coming up on a liter of Weinachts beer and then the Saucerne with dinner, so there. But no sugar! That’s my restraint.

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