The Mundane

I promise that this isn't the first in what's going to become a long series of "this is what I did this weekend" posts. But I'm without the capacity, right this very moment, to do much more than a recap. Deep thought and introspection are way beyond me today.

So, the weekend. Friday morning (aka Christmas Eve day) we headed down south to meet up with my NY friends and their baby. (They were in town to spend Christmas with one of the grandmas.) She's not yet two, and the differences in her from the last time I saw her, in August, are simply unbelievable. Em just went straight into maternal mode; it was a joy to watch her. N was more interested in my friends, whose names he just couldn't keep straight. Instead, he simply referred to them throughout the visit as "the pink one" and "the red one," based on the shirts they were wearing. As in, "No, I no want to show you this, pink one. I want the red one see it." Hee!

Then we went over to M and G's house for our annual Christmas-with-our-friends celebration. A couple of years ago, to make the kids' holidays "magical," they had bought--as in purchased--a snow-making machine, set it up in their backyard, and then concocted this whole scenario in which Em made a wish for snow (in Southern California, mind you) and when she turned around, there it was, drifting down from the sky! Anyway, this year, the machine was apparently broken. So, rather than expect the children to simply enjoy hanging with their mom, dad, uncles and friend B, they rented a castle bounce house for the entire weekend. Sheesh! All I can say is, I now know what the gay agenda is: to spoil my children rotten.

We came back home on Saturday evening and left early Sunday morning for the second in what we're hoping will be at least an annual trek up into the mountains in search of snow for our poor deprived Angeleno children. We went up with several of our friends and their families--a total of eight adults and nine children under the age of eight. What, that doesn't sound like your idea of heaven? Well, it was, especially if you realize that it means almost all the kids disappeared into the bowels of the five-bedroom cabin as soon as we got there, and were seen only rarely, and then only to shove strips of bacon into their mouths and run off again. (You think I'm kidding? We were there less than 48 hours, and we went through more than 10 POUNDS of bacon. There are some mighty unhappy porcine families out there because of us, that's all I can say. And yes, I know, I'm not supposed to be a pig-eater. But, bacon, well...I just can't imagine that any deity would really deny me that sort of crispy, fatty fabulousness.)

The cabin we were renting backed up on just acres upon acres of boulder-strewn, snow-covered forest, with nearby, hikable ravines complete with meandering streams under a thin layer of ice. The kids were beside themselves with the ability to do some rock clambering and snow sliding, even if the snow was pretty icy and old when we first got there. They also got a huge kick out of going into a hot tub at the end of the day in big t-shirts, and staying until the sun started going down. Of course, not one of us brainiacs thought twice when they put their t-shirts over the railing to dry, so later that evening when we sent one of the husbands out to retrieve them, we wound up rolling on the floor laughing at the shirt-cicles he came back with.

Then, yesterday morning, we awoke to a ground covered in new powder, and huge flakes still falling from the sky. So the kids got the chance to go outside and catch snowflakes on their tongues and try to make a snowman, and N got to experience what Baroy assures me is a rite of passage to manhood: peeing in the snow. Of course, he then spent the rest of the time insisting that he go outside to pee. Yeah, manhood. Right.

We arrived home to torrential rains that have yet to stop...and to a leaking kitchen beam/ceiling. Shit. Turns out, it's going to be OK...we think. Baroy had a chat with our across-the-street neighbor, who happens to be a roofer, and he told Baroy that Baroy can fix the problem on the roof himself, and that he has a drywall guy who can come in and fix the kitchen beam for us for a relative pittance. And so--if all is indeed well that ends well--all should soon be well.