The 179 Days Of Christmas

If you’re in need of some festive holiday music to listen to as you gather with family and friends today, how about this nine hour version of the 12 Days of Christmas?

To be clear, I do not suggest that any of you actually listen to this. It’s terrible. I made it to day 14 only because I felt it my duty to find out what happened once it got beyond the standard 12, but it took a heroic effort to do so. As Brad so aptly put it when he sent it my way, “if this doesn’t make you want to shoot yourself in the face, nothing will.”

In spite of this thing, I hope everyone is having a lovely Christmas. Everyone but Brad, that is. We don’t like Brad anymore.

Recipe For A Fabulous Holiday

Gill is back to share her recipe for a happy holiday season. Hers involves a lot less liquor than mine does, but it’ll work.

Hi friends.

It’s that time again, and one of the big things around this time is time honored recipes. They might be generations old, like your 5 times oma’s recipe for fephernus cookies, or new off the net. But what about the ingredients for a wonderful time? I have those right here for you.

Ingredients

Take a generous helping of family
Some traditions old and new
Go heavy on the fun and cherished memories
Add a helping of compassion and kindness for your fellow people

Instructions

Blend the family moments together until the cockles of your heart are just room temperature, add the compassion and kindness gradually until warmth begins to spread. Keep this up into the next year, and the ones to come.

Serves As many as you like

To quote Tiny Tim, “God Bless us everyone.”

Ms. Gillie wishing you all the best, for now and to come. Happy holidays.

Santa Claus Is Hitting The Ground

I remember watching Santa Claus skydive into a pole and tree last year and thinking to myself gees, some of those kids might need a little therapy. But while I’m sure that was probably rather traumatic, I’m also fairly certain that it has nothing on this incident from 1996.

Santa Claus was ready to fly by dozens of underprivileged children gathered for a holiday party at the Lantana airport on Sunday when the unthinkable happened.
Santa’s helicopter crashed and burned.

Helicopter pilot Donald Lloyd, 44, of Boca Raton, was able to yank Santa – played by Charles Dhooge – from the burning chopper.
“He literally saved my life,” Dhooge said on Sunday night. “I was on fire and trapped inside. Mr. Lloyd had gas on himself, but he reached through the flames and released the belt and I fell to the ground. I had to run through the fire and [Lloyd) in turn caught on fire.”
Dhooge, 46, of West Palm Beach, was taken to JFK Medical Center in Atlantis with burns on his face, head and back. He was released late Sunday.

The copter went down about 200 yards from a hangar where volunteers from Angel Flight South Florida were throwing a party for 200 children, who could see smoke billowing from the crash site. Some were in tears and distraught, afraid Santa was dead.
“I witnessed the crash and even though I’m not a kid, it traumatized me,” said Cherie Guimond whose husband is an Angel Flight pilot. “They were crying and saying Santa’s dead and all I could think of is they need a Santa here to give out the presents.”
All that was left of the helicopter, a Bell 47G2 owned by Lloyd, was a crumpled mess of charred metal. Helicopter parts, as well as brightly wrapped holiday gifts that were to be delivered by Santa, littered the tarmac.

Better luck this year, Santa.

Twas The Night Before Christmas, House Of Commons Style

I pay decent attention to the goings on in Parliament, yet somehow I had never seen Liberal MP Rodger Cuzner read his annual Christmas poem. But now I have, and it’s awesome.

With so much division in the world, sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that things don’t suck all the time and that now and then we’re still allowed to make fun of each other without it becoming an international scandal.

I imagine he’d like a do over on the Rob Ford slip of the tongue, though.

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and our last week in this place;
So here’s one final diddy before they walk out the mace.
Let me ask your indulgence and suggest that we pause;
To see what’s in those letters to our dear Santa Clause.
The opposition leader asked Santa for a fresh ride;
A new Ford family wagon, he’d drive it with pride.
But to get something so bloated, the chances are slim;
And from early indications, it seems Ford is driving him.
Gift-wrapped surprises are Scheer delights;
Like when Rob Ford said “Au Revoir” to Francophone rights.
He’ll ask Santa for groceries, is everyone’s hunch;
Because the member from Beauce has been out eating his lunch.
The NDP letter provides a bit of a twist;
A victory in Burnaby is not on their list!
And in Quebec when Bloc support has gone right through the floor;
They’re just beggin’ ol’ Santa to be relevant once more.
What’s in the PM’s letter, you need not ask twice;
Peace, hope, and justice — and a pipeline would be nice.
And my ask for Santa doesn’t have to be seen;
It’s four more years of good government, starting 2019!

Thank you for transcribing this, Huffington Post. Saves me the trouble of making Carin do it.

I Triple Dog Dare You To Read This And Not Wince At Least Once

Assuming that things are going the way that things are supposed to be going, at the time this hits the site we’re in the midst of about a nine hour road trip. So while we’re stuck on a train, we’ll leave you with these stories of people getting stuck to frozen things, A Christmas Story style.

I wasn’t sure I was going to post these, but then I saw the last one and my head was filled with visions of Carin, who can perhaps somewhat relate, reacting to it.

I remember playing my trumpet on a Santa Claus parade float in Fort Macleod Alberta in 1980. As usual, I went to wet the mouth piece with my tongue prior to playing, and sure enough, it stuck. The show had to go on. The pain was short term as I ripped it off.The parade went well

Damn.

As a bonus, I’ll also give you this wonderful song, because reading about tongues and frozen metal has put it firmly in my head.

Hopefully you all have a nice holiday, whatever you’re doing. I’m not sure when we’ll be back, but assuming that even more things go as they’re supposed to, we’ll be popping up here and there to keep you entertained in case you somehow have enough time on your hands to need entertaining.

Love Is A 47-Year-Old Christmas Present

It appears the mystery of the 47-year-old gift has been solved, and it was captured on video!

I guess the articles from last year made their way to Vicki Allen, the ex girlfriend who handed him the gift and dumped him, and they reconnected and decided to open the mystery gift for a charity.

Thank the gods it wasn’t a puppy like I had joked, but a book called “love is”. Apparently it had been so long that even Vicki forgot what was in there.

I’m also relieved that Steve’s prediction of this guy ending up on a show on Investigation Discovery didn’t come true. It appears the guy, his wife and Vicki all became friends.

Well there we go. The story has a happy ending.

The Cat’s Thoughts On Your Christmas Tree

I came across this song the other day, and chuckled. I thought of many cats our family had over the years. Thankfully none of them ruined our Christmas tree or did too much ornament damage, but I think we learned to strategically place breakable ornaments too high for them. Many times, we would come out to the living room and see the cat staring at the tree with a twitching tail.

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
how nice my owners thought of me
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
you’re ornaments are hissssssstory
they dangle bright to banish gloom
I’ll smack them clear across the room
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
you’re better than a catnip spree.

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
you’re turning slightly brown I see.
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
your water has been drunk by me.
Your skirt has pretty smelly flux,
I’ll use it for my litter box.
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
and then I’ll blame the dog you see.

So, for everyone out there with cats and Christmas trees, enjoy.

You Can’t Spell Christkindl Without Christ


It’s not every day I agree with church people on something, but it’s hard to argue with them here.

A controversy has surfaced from Kitchener’s Christkindl Market after a group of performers say they were silenced for talking about Jesus.
Pastor Jacob Reaume had to shout his message at the opening night of the market after his microphone was turned off by city staff.
“I thought it was probably an accident, some type of technical difficulty but then I looked around and realized, no this is intentional,” Reaume says.

Hey continued to say the microphone was cut off three times. Once during a German bible reading and twice when he was reading the story of Christ.
The city of Kitchener says the church group did not indicate it was going to be reading from scripture or be providing a sermon during their performance.

And they should have to indicate this because why, exactly? Especially if what they say is true and they gave the same performance last year. Not to mention that they’re representing a church, so what else could anyone have possibly been expecting them to do?

I get that we maybe don’t want to bombard people with nothing but super preachy religion when they just came to skate, drink hot chocolate and generally engage in the less church-laden version of Christmas, but no matter your belief system, I don’t think anyone has the right to expect that they can celebrate Christmas in public without smacking into just a little bit of Jesus along the way. He’s a bit of an important figure, you know.

One Christmas Down

How’s everyone’s weekend going? Ours has been rather Christmasy.

Today we’re heading downtown to take in some of the Christkindl Market. Today is the last day, so if you haven’t been yet or want to go again, get moving. It’s open between 10 and 4 today. It’s a great way to get some unique Christmas shopping done and give yourself diabetes. I especially recommend the apple fritters and the schnitzel dinner, both of which Carin was lovely enough to pop in and bring home for us a couple of nights ago because it’s close to her office.

As for yesterday, we went to the first of the family Christmas parties. It’s nice to have them spread out this year instead of all in one big clump like usual. It was a lovely time (thanks Brad for having us), much of which I spent playing with the Seppa Tebby Tebby nephew. Apparently he was excited to see me.

“Are you going to uncle Brad’s today?”

“Yes.”

“Is uncle Steve going to be there?”

“Let’s go wild!”

Nobody knows where that came from. I don’t think I’ve ever said that to him in his life. But hey, I’ll take being the let’s go wild uncle if it means I’m one of the fun relatives.

And fun we did have. We ate freezies together. We jumped around. We ran. We played with an airplane complete with pre pillow (I had him saying propeller by the end). We made every animal sound you can think of. We walked hand in hand in a giant circle around the house like 25 times saying hello to people including my dad, who decided to slap me on the ass every time we passed him. Don’t ask. These are my family. Just smile to yourself, say “that explains a lot” and move on. We sang songs. Boy were there songs. We were treated to such classics as Hickerary Dock, Humpty Dumpty Haggery Fall, and my personal favourite, Rassie In the Buppy In the Kitchen. I was able, somehow, to determine that that would be this:

There was also much Wheels On the Bus, including verses about lions, tigers, bears, and something that sounded like “the queer on the bus goes tutu ray.” Yup, we’re all just as lost as you are.

I even got to hear him swear for the first time! We’re all sat down to dinner and my sister realizes “shit, I forgot one of the presents!” And of course, of all the things to repeat, “Shit!” as loud and as clear as the day is long. We all nearly died. I didn’t know if I was going to wear Carin’s mouthful of stuffing or if she was going to choke on it, but what a time.

Next up is Christmas with Carin’s family, at least the parts of it that are going to be in the country. It will be smaller than usual, but there will be children, which means there will be fun. I’m sure one of us will be around to talk all about it.

Computerized Christmas Shopping In 1962

I wasn’t alive in 1962, so I have no idea whether this computerized shopping assistant was considered amazing at the time. But sitting here in 2018, it seems like quite a bit of rigamarole to go through just to get a few gift ideas. I always have at least a person or two on my list for whom I have no idea what to get, but generally that’s solved by going to some stores and looking around for a while. I’m not sure this computer would be much faster than the I’ll know it when I see it method, but sometimes a list of suggestions like this would be nice to have as a starting point, if nothing else.

Does the New York department store guy sound more like Elmer Fudd or Mayor Quimby to you? I can’t make up my mind.