The New Santa Arrives

So we have this large collection of Santa's on our mantle. Every year we get a new Santa and it's kind of a fun thing, looking for the perfect NEW Santa to sit on the mantle with the others.
But our Santas have a dark past.

You see, they are in fact HOSTAGES from the past.

Once upon a time I had a friend who moved in and out of my house more than once. This friend was likeable and affable but not terrible responsible nor practical.
He once ate five pounds of cheese. Out of my refrigerator. That he did not pay for.
I mean, in GENERAL it wouldn't be a problem if someone over time ate all the cheese. If you live in my house I love you like family and you're welcome to eat my food.
But, it's sort of bizarre at best that you might not EXPECT especially after just having purchased said cheese.
But that's not the point. The last time he moved out and moved on to his new life adventure, he left behind a small collection of santas.
WHICH I NOW CALL MY OWN. AS PAYMENT FOR SAID CHEESE.

Yeah that's right. I KEPT THEM AS HOSTAGES.
They seem to like it here. They're happy living comfortably in boxes most of the year but they get to come out and be the decorative focal point (aside from the tree) of our Christmas living room.

No. You can't have them back. YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE CHEESE EATER!

(PS If you read this, I love you. Hope you are well.)
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The New Santa Arrives

So we have this large collection of Santa's on our mantle. Every year we get a new Santa and it's kind of a fun thing, looking for the perfect NEW Santa to sit on the mantle with the others.
But our Santas have a dark past.

You see, they are in fact HOSTAGES from the past.

Once upon a time I had a friend who moved in and out of my house more than once. This friend was likeable and affable but not terrible responsible nor practical.
He once ate five pounds of cheese. Out of my refrigerator. That he did not pay for.
I mean, in GENERAL it wouldn't be a problem if someone over time ate all the cheese. If you live in my house I love you like family and you're welcome to eat my food.
But, it's sort of bizarre at best that you might not EXPECT especially after just having purchased said cheese.
But that's not the point. The last time he moved out and moved on to his new life adventure, he left behind a small collection of santas.
WHICH I NOW CALL MY OWN. AS PAYMENT FOR SAID CHEESE.

Yeah that's right. I KEPT THEM AS HOSTAGES.
They seem to like it here. They're happy living comfortably in boxes most of the year but they get to come out and be the decorative focal point (aside from the tree) of our Christmas living room.

No. You can't have them back. YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE CHEESE EATER!

(PS If you read this, I love you. Hope you are well.)
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A Day For Trains

Several years of my childhood were spent in a house that was as legally close to a railroad track as could be.  The house shook and windows rattled every time the engines went blowing past the back of our house. I've often said that my brother's love of trains, and the reason he is an engineer now, is that his prenatal lullaby was the shaking and grumbling of Conrail.

My own boys love them though, so maybe it's just little boys who love trains. We went to the local rail museum to wander through cars in the middle of refurb and enjoy the blasts from the past, from days when rail travel was normal and not some exotic adventure.
The best part of this trip was probably when we walked into the shed and were surprised by who was working on the desk.

And some of our party were EXTREMELY excited to see him.

Trains are cool. Trains + Santa = UBER COOL.
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A Day For Trains

Several years of my childhood were spent in a house that was as legally close to a railroad track as could be.  The house shook and windows rattled every time the engines went blowing past the back of our house. I've often said that my brother's love of trains, and the reason he is an engineer now, is that his prenatal lullaby was the shaking and grumbling of Conrail.

My own boys love them though, so maybe it's just little boys who love trains. We went to the local rail museum to wander through cars in the middle of refurb and enjoy the blasts from the past, from days when rail travel was normal and not some exotic adventure.
The best part of this trip was probably when we walked into the shed and were surprised by who was working on the desk.

And some of our party were EXTREMELY excited to see him.

Trains are cool. Trains + Santa = UBER COOL.
Tweet