Happy Holidays!

Cowboy here. Our house is in holiday chaos as it is every year at this time, my wife busy decorating, hunting for presents she’s sure Santa has already bought and hid. Hiding places are getting harder to find. The imp is easily distracted by chocolate treats I stashed in the usual hiding places. Eating them hasn’t ruined her appetite at all; Glory’s doing the cooking/baking.

The ladies have had a few hard months now that Max’s gone. We’ve been back and forth to Gulfport to settle some details. We invited them to stay here but they’ll go home after the New Year.

Sar has slowly come back to life after Max’s passing. She’s kept busy creating art, making some outstanding pieces, might do an exhibition in the spring. Glory’s energies result in culinary wonders. Vi is the organizer – from the house to managing the marketing of Sar’s art work. Vi organized the children’s Christmas party for the neighborhood, dragged David over to be Santa, made the rest of us run around fulfilling her demands, would have made a fine officer if she wasn’t so tiny. Don’t let her know I said that.

There’s been a lot less mischief lately but never fear, there’s still a bit to go around. Despite the weather, Sar has been doing plenty of tree climbing. It boggles the mind to watch that woman scamper up a tree. Bundled up she can sit on a high branch far too long to make me comfortable. A bit of a breeze has me out there pulling her down before pneumonia slips in. Bull – who has yet to move out – has braved the imp’s temper on occasion, pulling her down unceremoniously, hauling her over his shoulder while she yells a bunch of ugly words she knows. He’s not immune to being kicked either when she’s mad. He takes it all in stride, slipping a piece of chocolate out of his pocket to appease her. That usually stops the fuss for a bit. Come to think of it I think all of us males fill our pockets with chocolate for those just-in-case moments.

No snow so far this year so no anatomically correct snow people either. That’s a blessing in itself. I think the neighborhood might be a bit disappointed. My money’s on the imp; Sar’s bound to find a way to make up for that.

The monster dog we’ve adopted has filled out – a sweet personality for an animal that was bred to ride the Roman chariots and go to war. Our smallest cat Pipsqueak has attached itself to the dog. Apparently it’s fearless of a muzzle that could gulp it down in one bite. Another one of our cats, Miss Emmy, has for some reason developed an extra thick coat of fur. The animal sheds like crazy and leaves its fur everywhere. I’m tempted to shave the beast.

Our garage is overloaded with Twinkies. By now you know the company that makes these god-awful treats went bankrupt. Sar must have bought every one of them that was available in western Washington. Friends from all over the country – plus some from overseas – have been sending boxes of Twinkies wherever they are. I told the imp some other company would start making them but she’s determined to eat the originals for as long as possible. Glory made up a batch just to see if she could match the recipe. Glory’s version was outstanding so at least we have a backup when we run out of the originals. According to Sar, that’ll be a dark day.

Happy Christmas, Happy Chanukkah, Happy New Year. As always, this old warrior prays for a more peaceful year - from our family to you and yours.

Cowboy