ORANGE YOU GLAD?

When I was a young man growing up in cold and snowy North Dakota I learned the value of a nice warm sweatshirt.

(For you residents of the UK, think "jumper".)

Even the governor wore one on a Saturday morning run with his staff and members of the press.

(Governor Bill Guy is the tall fellow on the right in glasses.  I'm the lad in dark on the left, apparently dreaming of going back to bed.)

They were cheap.

They were rugged.

They lasted forever.

And most important of all, they were warm.

So as I have reached the senescence of my long and not-so-well-lived life and the temperature has dipped into the 50 degree range . . .

(Again for you residents of not only the UK but the entire world outside of the U.S. of A., think Fahrenheit.  Celsius puts it in the 10 degree range and now I'm really shivvering.)

. . . I went looking in the retail outlets for sweatshirts.

Lo and behold, I found one.

Bright red it is and, with it's fleecy composition, as warm as I remember from the Good Old Days.

But I only got one and while I am extremely careful in the kitchen and at the dining table (he lied) it would accumulate spots from time to time.

I dreamed of getting one or two more and today I went back to the same store and did just that.

Now, SWMBO has qualms about me shopping alone for additions to my wardrobe.

And when I came home and modeled my latest purchase, she shuddered noticeably and covered her eyes.

Now I ask you: is this too much?

She seemed to think it was a tad (or a truckload) too bright.

But I assured her it would protect me when I go out to the street to pick up the mail from our mailbox.

And frankly, I love it.

(To be honest: I got one other in a subdued dark grey.)

By the way, when I was looking for that first picture above I found one other of me in a sweatshirt, albeit a short-sleeved one worn for summer.

It shows me exhibiting my style sense at the end of our obviously exhausting weeklong migration from Indiana to Arizona in 1972.

It was just past July 4th and I was still dressed for the patriotic fervor.

A NEW BEGINNING

The Christmas Holiday is finally over, though some places are still closed today.

Perhaps to recover from hangovers?

As noted above, it feels like a new beginning to me.

I know those feelings are not supposed to set in until January First or Second but it has come early to me.

We had a very quiet Christmas Day, just the two of us here.

The indomitable SWMBO was in full battle mode in the kitchen much of the day, producing a delicious dinner of baked ham, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, warm dinner rolls.

And she moaned because she hadn't provided a green vegetable to go with all of that food.

Lordy!

Every year after one of these feasts, she declares that will be the last holiday meal she prepares.

"It just doesn't make sense to go to all that trouble when it's just the two of us!", she says.

But then the next holiday rolls around and away she goes again.

We had a visit from the BAD and a companion on Christmas Eve in the afternoon.

Drinks and finger foods were consumed.

And then the BAD lived up to her acronym by producing these two "gifts".

Treachery!

I had warned her the last time not to ever bring another jigsaw puzzle into our house!

But had she listened?

Apparently so because as I ranted and raved at this malicious act, she just sat there and LAUGHED at me!

Two puzzles!

One of them has 500 pieces, the other ONE THOUSAND!

She's trying to drive me mad, I tell you.

Oh well, eventually I shall relent and we will get them out and solve them.

We may be even more doddering when that trial is over but we shall solve the bloody things.

So, (pant, pant), how was your Christmas?

A HOLIDAY DRINKING SONG

I tasted wassail once, in my younger days.

Wretched stuff!

CHRISTMAS DAY

 To one and to all

a very Merry Christmas!

vigilia di Natale - THE COUNT IS OVER!

 Hark!

Did I just hear the tintinnabulation of tiny sleigh bells?

For sure, many places in the world heard them.

It is (finally) Christmas Eve.

I bet you thought this asinine countdown/countup of mine would never end.

But it has and I thank you all for your patience, your comments, your friendship and your good humor/humour through the preceding year and, in fact, years.

So, let the merrymaking begin in earnest.

Happy Christmas and Best Wishes to celebrants of all those other holidays at this time of year!

SANTA DAY - PARTE UNDICI

 Today is Part Eleven of my imbecilic Marking off of the Days until Christmas.

Intelligent readers of this blog (and I know you ALL are) will note that there are only two more days until the fat old man in the red and white suit deposits packages of swag under holiday trees all over the world.

I wonder how he does that.

Those reindeer must be really fast.

At any rate, this is the final Saturday Shopping Splurge Cycle before the big event.

Also known as The Day Men Finally Break Down and Shop!

So don't let me hold you from the Centers of Commerce.

Make like those reindeer and hurry!

APPROACHING - PARTE DECIMA - THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 It's the tenth day of this ill-thought-out March Toward Christmas.

I don't know about you but I'm getting more than a little sick of it.

But here at the International Headquarters of Oddball Observations, I throw myself (and my co-conspirators contributors) into the fray.

Hmm, I wonder what "fray" means.

Oh well, whatever it means, here are your end-of-the-week enterainments.

I hope you were delighted with this silly string of sidesplitting slapstick.

And I hope that you will have a sensibly insane weekend.

Remember, Santa is coming.

Oh, and always, always, always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

( . . . or is it kitties . . . )