Good morning one and all!

I have to say that this was one of, if not the best, Christmases we have ever endured. Of course, a statement such as that is difficult to substantiate – someone is bound to say, “Ah, but don’t you remember the Christmas of ’62 when we laughed so much during Christmas dinner that the milk came out of your nose and you farted at the same time?” Well, fortunately, perhaps, I don’t remember that particular Christmas but this one was fabulous. Naturally, having Ben here was the ingredient which transformed it from being one of the many into one of the few and, although his presence was sorely missed, we had the chance to speak with Adam via Google Talk on the Sunday before Christmas, Christmas morning itself and again yesterday. So, as well as having Ben and Nick here, there was this technological illusion that all three sons were around and about for the festive season which was marvellous.

Christmas Eve was our big day. Nick and Lucy came over for dinner and Ms Playchute prepared a feast of the usual epic proportions – rolled pork loin with morel mushroom stuffing, Amy potatoes, sweet potato strudel and, for Nick, trout in pastis and mushroom and cream sauce all of which was accompanied by a couple of bottles of Champagne and an excellent couple of bottles of Margaux I managed to secure for a small fortune (Dad will remember the Margaux we had in St Emilion). Pecan pie and Christmas pudding provided the finishing touches and we rounded off our alcoholic consumption with some Sloe Gin kindly provided by Paul and Mary across the road. Whatever – it certainly beat the turkey sandwiches we had been planning on. Perhaps not surprisingly, I can’t remember too much more of what else we did that evening but it was a heck of a lot of fun (but fortunately, no milk came out through anyone’s nose, as far as I remember).

Christmas Day we arose in a leisurely fashion, exchanged gifts and ate more food – scrambled eggs with salmon and capers. Ms Playchute gave me the present I have wanted for some time – long, lycra leggings which will keep my lower extremities warm whilst cycling during the less than temperate winter (and spring and autumn) months. (And, I have to say they are fantastic – not just the look of me in long, black tights but also their functionality. Ben and I have been out on two excellent bike rides during the week and although the face gets a bit cool, the leggings serve their purpose in an excellent fashion. If you are decidedly unlucky I will secure the photograph Ms Playchute took of the two of us yesterday and attach it so that you can scare off unsuspecting animals and/or young children).

Then, on Friday evening we all went out to dinner at Revolver, a restaurant just down the road from Nick and Lucy’s, which was very nice. A bit on the slow side as they were packed out but the food was very nice, made all the more so because someone else was preparing it. Last night we had a very pleasant meal with Pete and Sal next door and this evening we have guests numbering about eight coming for dinner. So, as you can see, it’s been non-stop!

I suppose the one thing we didn’t have was any snow (thank goodness!) but just in the name of the Christmas spirit, here are a few photos Dad sent (and his latest e-mail to me said that it was still snowing!)

And finally, in lieu of any so-called jokes this morning, I ran across the following old favourite the other day on a site I sometimes trawl for allegedly amusing anecdotes which I thought was worth repeating. Enjoy.

Love to you all,

Greg

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Christmas with Louise

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare.

One year I decided to make his dream come true.

I put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Of course, they don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in such a store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there almost three hours saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who owns that?" and "Do you have their phone number?"

Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. I'm not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all. (That also describes a few ex-girlfriends.) Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I figured the "vibro-motion" was a feature Jay could live without, so I settled for Lovable Louise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray.

Then I let myself out, went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him very happy but had left the dog confused. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight.

We also agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and Grandpa would be there.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained.

It's a doll.

"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued. I hadn't seen any in the box, but I kept this information to myself.

"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless.

"Why doesn't she have any teeth?"

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, Hang on!"

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the pantyhose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation. My brother wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse.

We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot fireplace ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

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