so this is the new year?

Chad and Amy just sent out their new year's letter, and it made me smile really a lot. So grown up! Hah! Sending out for real holiday update letters? And being married for a whole year? Holy crap. Ain't nothin' more grown up than that. Well, except maybe procreating.

That word has always made me wonder -- is there such a thing as con-creating? And what, exactly, would that consist of?

I'll admit, I'm kind of bored today. I even went so far as to clean the kitchen today in a stir-crazy fit, and I hate cleaning. Sigh. If only I could be this relaxed at school, but still have my friends close by and my work close by. You know -- oh, you don't have to work on your woodblocks, but you want to? OK. Go for it--but be leisurely. And then I'd spend lots of time hanging out with my friends, talking, eating, and watching movies or something.

Instead I'm mostly just wasting my life on the internet. Which isn't all bad -- I don't mean to malign the internet! But. . . yes, I guess some of the family workaholism got passed down to me somehow. Is there AA for workaholics?

Happy new year! It's not time yet, but I probably won't check in before then, so I'm saying it in the interim. HAPPY NEW YEAR DON'T GET DRUNK OR HIT BY A CAR.

ah, nostalgia. . . .

I was undecided about whether I should write to you a post or not.

But then I was surfing through my photos and decided that I should share a few more than I did when I was in Italy (due to slow internet connections at the library, etc).

I'm finding that since last time I was home I was getting ready for Italy, I'm experiencing a weird sensation that I should be getting ready to go to Italy again. It's making me kind of homesick. I even pulled out everything from my closet to sort through eventually, just as if I was planning on moving.

My Christmas has been great, though -- 4 books in 2 days and counting. (Now I know I've arrived home.) Hopefully so has everyone else's!

c'e assurdo! ma non c'e problemo, certo! c'e super ganzissimo!

Well, I stepped off the plane and found out it was nearly 60 degrees. It's supposed to be colder for the rest of the week, but still the contrast between balmy Alabama and that epic journey to the Howe family Christmas couldn't be greater.

It hasn't been many times in my life when it's just been my family at home doing Christmas, not traveling somewhere else to visit massive amounts of family. I guess most of those times have been since we moved to Alabama, even. It's harder to think of Christmas when outside it might still be September.

I'm still excited, though.

Being home is really nice. I feel so relaxed, and there is literally nothing I have to get out and do before Wednesday. I mean, I probably will. . . like, go to church this morning. But everything else? There's literally no agenda. I'm confused, bewildered, and inordinately pleased.

I'll probably adopt some minor goals for myself: hit up the library, finish a book, maybe. Play a video game I haven't played in a while. Maybe write a little? Catch up on calling people? Since we have phenomenal long-distance here at the house an' all. Oh, things like wrapping presents, too. And of course make a kick-bum Italian meal for my family. Maybe catch up on watching the 6-hour version of Pride and Prejudice with my mother. I think tonight might be mystery night on TV, though, so we may just watch tons of Agatha Christie mysteries instead.

This is where it becomes an asset to me that I mostly just skipped ahead and read the ends of mystery books -- I'm entertained and surprised by the story just as much as anyone else when it's interpreted for the television. = D

I hope that everyone else made it home safely and is having a lovely relaxed beginning to your Christmas break.

Is it weird that at Christmas I have the urge to say "Christ is risen! -- he is risen indeed!"? I also have the urge to play Christmas music at Easter. I know, I know, laugh because Mackenzie is confused. But really, advent, lent, both 40 days, both celebrating occurrences in the physical incarnate life of Christ. . . .

Buon natale a tutti!

"and now good morrow to our waking souls"

Pennsylvanians are CRAZY. CRAZY HARDCORE.

This is a tale of Pennsylvanian Christmas Hardcore-ness.

Preface:
I spent Saturday night at Greg's house, with his family, because he invited me to the Howe Family Christmas on Sunday (his mom's side). On the way to Greg's house at about 9 p.m., it was sleeting and dark and freezing and unhappy -- the edges of his windshield were forming little ice patches as we drove. The salt trucks were out makin' the highways safe(r). People were driving stupidly. I was hoping Greg's new car would not suffer damage in such bad driving conditions (yes, he signed for a new car last week! Woah hardcore grown-up-ness!)

Act I:
Now, Mrs. Snader has massive amounts of siblings -- 7 I think -- so mere preparation for this event was way hardcore. Mrs. Snader cooked and carved 40 lbs of turkey the day before, and her sister cooked and carved 35 more. In case you can't add, that's SEVENTY-FIVE POUNDS of turkey.

I mean, holy crap, right?

I wake up Sunday morning to the usual Snader household apocalypse (I guess with 5 kids the definition of "inside voice" changes). [and no, Mom, I didn't let the noisy wake-up make me grumpy -- aren't you proud?] All six of us kids shower, breakfast, dress, caffeine, bundle up and venture outside. . . ready to go.

Act II:
The weather was not ready to let us go, however. We walk outside to a driveway sheathed in almost a quarter-inch of ice. Every individual blade of grass is iced over, and just shatters underfoot. Halos of ice surround every twig, branch, and tree trunk. The cars? Oh, the cars. Also sheathed in a solid quarter-inch of ice. We used the one ice scraper to chip at the ice around each door of the two cars; half an hour later we've broken in and are ready to pile in and leave. (the whole time we were trying to break the ice to get into the cars, Greg's youngest brother is hip-checking the side of the car to try and shatter the ice.)

Then three people remember things in the house they'd forgotten to get/do, so we wait a while longer.

Then Greg, Charlene, and I pile into his new car and leave to get gas -- the driveway was so slippery we don't want to follow close together. We drive with one tire in the grass. It is way hardcore. Greg cannot see out of either of his side mirrors because hey -- they're still covered in a quarter inch of ice.

Act III:
We get a phone call at the gas station -- after we've broken into the gas tank -- the windshield wipers on Chris' car are broken. So we go back, pick up the other three kids at the bottom of the driveway so we don't have to try an drive up the steep icy slope, break into the trunk without an ice scraper to deposit all our belongings, then cram six people into Greg's car.

Then we drive an hour. Loudly. And with much poking, arguing, yelling, teasing, smushing-one-another-around-curves, more sleet, and lots of rain. And lots of reminding ourselves why the heck we were leaving the house on a day like today, when the weather is utterly terrible. Seventy-five pounds of turkey. Just remember, we have to go eat 75 pounds of turkey.

Finally we arrive at the Howe reunion. We eat almost all of the turkey.

"no blinding light or tunnels to gates of white. . . . "

Well, my friends.
I hope I haven't lost too many readers with my long hiatus. But it is hard to think of something to say when you hate life. So now that things are looking up (knock on wood) I'm back.

I walked out of my dorm this morning and did a double-take -- the trees looked like they were in bloom. Then I realized they were just covered with tiny icicles that looked like buds and they were catching the morning light so that they looked pink like blooms. That bit of eye-trickiness was a delightful start to my morning. Surprising. Odd. Beautiful.

Finals week is next week -- my last paper is due tomorrow -- things are slowly winding down. It's quite exciting. I'm so ready for break that I can barely stand it. I'm sure you know what I mean. I'm very sad that the semester is ending so much later than normal. Last year Christmas break started December 15. Now I won't get home until the 21st.

Wish me good luck? And good luck to anyone else still dealing with finals.