It’s getting rugged around here. Can’t really eat enough:
Twelve pieces of Nashville Toffee Co. toffee,
Eleven pounds of pecans,
Ten powdery cookies,
Nine giant cupcakes,
Eight more pieces of toffee,
Seven rolled-up pieces of salami,
Six glasses of wine,
Five cups of DIP.
Three bourbon balls,
Two pounds of pig
And some more toffee to finish the box.
The State of the Tree
As of Tuesday morning 10:43 am CDT . . .
Now. I know you’re wondering about the tree–and not trying to get to Omaha or anything else like that. The tree has been a significant source of consternation to all who see it. People walk in and go “WHOA! You oughta do something about that” and I’d say, “Well, there’s a contest going on right now so I can’t really mess with it because it would screw up the contest.” Or they’d say, “WOW! That thing’s gonna fall,” and I’d say, “You wanna enter a contest?”
At this point the contest is totally screwed, because two significant things have happened since the contest began.
1. A father/son engineering team with a bag of gravel and a pile of wood wedged all manner of stuff into the tree stand. At this point, it’s like Stonehenge down there.
2. Many of you guessing about the likelihood of the tree falling based your vote on whether we have cats in the house. When the contest began, the answer was no. But I am happy to report that as of a couple of days ago, we adopted a pair of these:
This is Eliot. His friend Kermit is so reclusive that we are not sure he still lives here. It’s like the Loch Ness Monster.
I’m happy to have cats lurking around again, but Kermit is the largest, strongest cat I’ve ever had. Clif says he’s a BEAST. So if Kermit gets in the mood to climb, all bets are off.
At this point, I’ve closed entries for the contest, due to the befuddling, altered circumstances of this tree. I’ll be awarding yarny prizes to both an entry from the cheerful folk who said the tree would stand AND an entry from the deliciously gloomy souls who predicted it would fall. If, by chance, it does still fall, a special award to the pessimist who picked the closest time. Stay tuned for the winners.
By the way, did you notice something else about the tree? The way the midsection lights are no longer working? That happened just as the last ton of gravel was loaded into the stand. Unbelievable.
The stocking for Nora made it into the sleigh yesterday, just barely. She’s only six months old. I hope she finds it good gnawing.
Wishing you all gratifying times in the coming days.