A day of rest

Kitties rest in nests. Isn't she adorable?

On thursday, I finished half our Christmas cards before we drove to MacMinville to enjoy a sumptuous dinner with C. and J. at Bistro Maison. I TRIED to be moderate. Really I did! But we started out with a Kir Royale (champagne and cassis liquer. I want this for my last meal if I ever have to be executed.)and it hit my empty stomache like a ton of fireworks!I became giddy, witty, reckless, and infinitely attractive. Moderation? Bah! A hobgoblin for foolish mortals!Salad was baby greens dressed with extra virgin olive oil. Well we wouldn't want our babies to go all naked, would we? C & J had the turkey feast. DH had the steak au poivre. I had the penne pasta with a sauce made from tomatoes stolen from McGregor's garden by commando bunnies. The tomatoes were then dried in the magical Mediterranian sunshine on the Isle of Capri,lightly roasted over a fire of maple twigs picked up in Vermont forests by blonde 8-year-old girl children and shippped at great expense to professional tomato roasters in France who process them in small, customized batches. Our chef just happend to obtain his stash of tomatoes in a poker game with a Japanese industrialist and two Texas oil tycoons. And the less said about that, the better. Needless to say, I very nearly picked up my plate and licked it. By the time the pear sorbet was on its way down my esophagus, my brain finally began to register satiation. Too late. I ate too much, and groaned all the way home.



The next day, according to our long-standing tradition, we met up with C & J again to hunt down the wiley Christmas tree. This is what the well-dressed Willamette valley tree-hunter will wear. Note the rubber boots. Note the hat. Note the red rain-proof layer ready to be pulled on over the fleece jacket. There were times on Friday afternoon, when it rained like a cow peeing on a flat rock.



It took us three hours, but at last we tracked down a tree farm that was open the day after Thanksgiving and had Grand Firs for C. She loves their particular tangerine-ish fragrance. DH and I marched through the mud a scant three hundred feet, found the tree of our dreams (a nice Douglas Fir), and sawed it down. Then we went to find J and C. They had discovered the tree of their dreams as well, and C. assured us that it was a Grand. We sawed it down, dragged both our trees back to the sales shed, and were ssurprised to find that we had TWO Douglas Firs. It was starting to get dark, the rain was fixin' to pour again, and C decided that this would be a good year to have a nice Douglas Fir.


We loaded the trees, delivered C. and J. and their tree to their home, and hit the road in the wind and the rain and the very dark night.


The next day I decorated the tree, hung the stockings by the chimney with care, and set the house up for the holidays. This morning, I got up at 6 and left DH sleeping while I took a cup of tea and sat in the livingroom with only the Christmas tree alight. Sitting in the dark with a lighted Christmas tree is such a superbly contented feeling! Life is good



All that driving around did give me lots of time to knit. Two more red scarves!