And Just Like That It Is Christmas Morning, 2023, and We Have Out-Gifted Ourself, Eaten Too Much Food, And Enjoyed the Love of Family and Friends

Waking up, not to the chaos of Christmas mania, but to the reality that we did that, been there, and can tie a bow on it all with a Barnwell brunch. I cooked for everyone yesterday, and Cynde did the same on Saturday, so why not give it to Casey and Dave this morning. Of course, they still have an evening to do, just like Lys and Chitunga.

I was ready to unwind at 3 pm yesterday when we headed to Kanyea and Courtney's to see Malia Celine. That was definitely a highlight of the weekend. She is simply happy, beautiful, and overjoyed to be alive. It's contagious. 

I realize at 51 that Christmas is overdone, insane, too much, and bonkers, but it is this ritual that brings together the people you love and appreciate the most and that matters most (and I type this as Papi Butch is rubbing Karal's belly as she falls asleep on his lap (even if he is wearing 14-layers of Christmas clothing and still complaining he's cold."

Here's to you and yours. Make is a spectacular day and be good to yourself. I am wishing you the best. The is my holiday card. 

The Merry Gnomes of Central New York - A Flake Like Mike Tradition (But This Year for Cynderballz, The Narrator of the Story)

For over a decade, we've celebrated the holidays on Pine Grove with the book A Flake Like Mike. It was a one-year publication featured by Macy's that I caught at the end of the Thanksgiving Parade. I ordered it immediately, and "there's no flake quite like Mike," has been a mantra. We've read it every year: with puppets, surprise guests, new stupidity, and always the humor of my sister's husband, Mike. In fact, my mom and I were discussing that Sean and Jake have not had a Christmas, really, without a reading of the story...There was the Covid Christmas, of course, but a tale was woven in for the absence. 

Yesterday, we almost bypassed the tradition, holding the story for the very end of the festivities, knowing that we all pitched in to get Cynde tickets to see Pink...the only thing any of us can name that Cynde has ever wanted. She'll be a the Dome next October and a week after Adamo and Nikki marry, Cynde and Mike will be front and center. 

We sported pink bandanas and Santa-bulbed beards for the reading, following an 3 (maybe four) hour romp opening presents. As the elf-passer-outer, I didn't think the event was ever going to end because, well, we're a bit excessive. I guess that's not so bad, as it brings laughter and stupidity in the universe.

And in the tradition I have to admit, it's rather impish to see over a decade of these photos....every year dressing up these fools in different attire and each time they go along with my moronic tendencies. I texted Jacob Charles last night that it's up to him and Sean to keep such foolishness going once I'm gone.

Then Cynde sent me a photo of the dogs sound asleep in the middle of the chaos. How they did this is beyond me, because it was obnoxiously crazy from 3 pm to 9 pm. It's a dog's world - that's for sure. 

Today, thought, it's creamed potatoes, green beans, carrots, and beef brisket for an afternoon of visits to Butch and Sue's. We did our holiday a day earlier than usual because Nikki and Sean have to work, and then Nikki & Adamo depart for Poughkeepsie to see his parents.

And I'm feeling rather fortunate that the remake of POW! arrived to the girls who were mistakenly left out of the first print...I felt horrible when I learned their pieces weren't included. They arrived yesterday, however, just in time to be put under the Christmas tree from Santa. 

Okay, time for another day of food. 

Wonderful to Be Home Where I'm a Celebrity on a Pine Grove Refrigerator That Very Few People Will Ever See (But Flattering, Always)

Karal barks at my mom who feeds her because she's barking...whatever she's eating, she shares. The living room t.v. now sits at volume 54. It was set at 42 a year ago. Naps are taken at 4 pm, and when Chitunga pays a visit to see his grandparents, he naps, too. So does the dog...so I decide to make the beef brisket to keep myself entertained. 

It was wonderful to see dad in his physical therapy and know there are good people out there that are caring, smart, interested, and kind. Joe Dicob is a great human being...patient, knowledgeable, a dedicated to his job...although like K-12 education, higher education, and once upon a time, the airlines, all roads lead to corporate greed, leaving the good workers struggling, frustrated, disillusioned by their jobs, and resentful. This is the United States. Float the cash upward to the few, while those on the bottom scratch their head wondering, "Wait. What's going on here." It is something. Joe said he's looking to get out of healthcare. Humana bought his parent company, and ever since the nurses, doctors, and workers are treated like shit. "It's not worth it any more...I have a family I have to think of." 

Sounds familiar. Working 7 days a week, 364 days a year just to maintain the work you're supposed to do because the shrink the workers to save funds for themselves. 

We all need a Norma Rae moment. 

But for this morning, I'm thinking about my fame and purpose from the GQ ad I never posed for...but on the fridgedaire of Cynderballz, I exist. 

Just makes me feel old.

Of course, my father was doing 'get out of the chair' l exercises, so I shouldn't complain too much. 

And we had lunch at Hefner's...dad, Chitunga, and me....a nice CNY lunch with a bottle of Budweiser beer. Those are the moments that sparkle most.

But today, the festivities take off. God Bless Us, Everyone. 

And On the 10th Day of Christmas Their True Son Gave to Them...a Burger with Onions & Cheese (on Naan Bread)(with Creamed Corn)

It's getting rather comical that my parents think I'm some sort of gourmet chef, simply because I arrange the plates differently than they do, add flavors, and introduced them to something new...like bourbon maple sauce or middle eastern bread (haven't cracked out hummus and falafel yet)(but might). 

It's actually getting routine to work in between the meals and then time it during their naps to prepare their next meal.

OMFG. Louisville...what is happening with your basketball program? It's killing me. I'll stay loyal, but I miss the days where the hype and performance kept us on the edge of our seats.

Chitunga arrived safely to CNY, but in true form to the age, the independence, and the changes in life, I didn't hear from him at all. He called 5 hours after Allysa picked him up at the airport to say they've been rock climbing, out to dinner, and that he's likely to stay in tomorrow while she teaches so he can work. Um, Karal isn't the only one excited to see him again. Mom reminded me about how rushed Casey used to be to end our Christmas so she could go to the Marleys for theirs. I forgot about those times. 

Missing from the plate photo were the tater-tots, and I'm a fan of Wegman's pre-made pepper burgers (they hold their shape and have a nice snap to them). The parental units, however, were not a fan of naan bread. They were afraid of losing a tooth because it was too chewy.  

Oh, and about the Isgar garage...that #@$@# almost cost me three fingers. I went to pick up Karal after Dylan dog-sat her (I drove my dad around to pick up things) and he was gone when I returned, so I had to go through the garage. Coming back out, however, I slammed the door shut not reading my fingers were in the crack of one of the folds.

Holy @$#@4 @#$@#$! that hurt. In the end, I think I'll keep my fingernails and the nerve damage will subside. I almost thought I'd pass out, but I held it in. But then Cynde calls me on her Nest doorbell wondering what the hell I'm doing at their house. I wanted to punch her...I was in that much pain. I'm not use to their front door being locked. Totally frustrating.

Now what will I make today? Hmmmm.

How Do You Measure a Son's Holiday Love For His Parents? In Teaspoons, of Course. And Tablespoons. And Quarter Tablespoons. And Quarter Teaspoons

I'm a little flummoxed how my older sister didn't believe me as I sorted all the measuring cups and spoons from the drawers in my mother's kitchen. "There's no way she has that many, Bryan," she said in a text. 

WAY. 

I had luck at Home Goods and found the drawer organizers I was looking for, simply because I didn't want anyone to slice their hands reaching in the draw to get items, as there are a good 40-50 cutting knives in the drawer....from generations of cutting meat, deer, fish, and the body parts that go unnamed in the basement. 

That's a joke. There's isn't a basement. There's a shed. 

Of course, with the new drawer boxes, I had to rearrange some which will be destiny for a "Jesus EFFING Christ, Bryan. Where the #$@#@ is my #@$@#$?" It goes with the territory. We're accustomed to it. 

I also found a nice sink stopper that is designed to keep water in the sink so the water doesn't leak into the drain before you're finished cleaning dishes. Amazing. It almost works too good - so much so that when I cleaned the vents on the floor and the fans in the bathroom, the pull of lint-fuzzies stayed in the sink water for almost two hours before I unplugged it.

There were also 28 bottle openers, a few antique Pepsi toppers to keep the soda from going stale, 32 potato chip clips (borrowed one for Karal's dog food), the birthday candles we couldn't find on her birthday (they didn't have wicks, anyway), and a good 14 cheese spreaders for cheesy posts like this. 

Yes, that's supposed to be an egg on the sink plug, not a daisy. 

Also, I pulled the vacuum out of my bedroom. Boy, that machine can suck the stars into its galaxy if it wanted to. Amazing strength. 

Today, I take Papi Butch to the stores to get gift cards, to the bank for holiday cash, and hopefully to a bar for a beer. All the unwrapping of presents that aren't his are a cause for a drink - besides that, it will give Mimi Sue a break from the television noise and confusion.

I think she told him he's to take out $10,000 per child. I'll work on that. 

And We Can Officially Say the Holiday Season Has Been Kicked Off Because Mimi Sue is 79, and the Youngest Are Now Looking Like Adults

We celebrated mom's birthday yesterday with ginger chicken, four-cheese tortellini, the Kentucky cake, and Pam's winter moose-milk. We also woke up to snow, and it lasted all day, although the word is that it will melt over the next few days over a warm up. Looking like a green Christmas, after all. 

Meanwhile the Barnwell boys, with their mom, got their dose of Karralyne Karamel Karma Cupcake (the spazaga-doink who doesn't like to sit still long enough for a photograph.

Today is Wednesday...the day before Chitunga flies in and a low-key, non-eventful 24 hours off the calendar. We shall see how it all rides out.

I'm still exhausted from the cake, visiting with family, then the Perras, and running into Jennifer Thom at the liquor store (you never who you'll run into wherever you go in CNY). 

May your family members find their way into your homes this holiday, and may you tip a glass to those no longer with you. The rituals don't last forever. 

Doing Okayer? You? Prepped the First Week of the Winter Session, Got Groceries, Cooked Dinner, and Started Recommendations

Mom looked over at me at 9:30 from her lounge chair and said, "What could you possibly be doing now?" Recommendations. She asked, "Didn't you just finished grading," and I'm like yes, "But now I have to tackled all the other items needing to be done that can't get done because I'm too busy teaching and giving feedback." 

It really never ends. Never. As I finish one list, I simply turn a braincell over to the fact there are 100 other items I haven't dealt with. True-that.

It was a total wash so no movement for Karal or me, other than scrambling eggs, frying bacon and sausage, and making Greek omelets for dinner (something different) to go with the chocolates they've been getting into.

But today, mom's birthday, I'll make a cake, feed her a late lunch, and host visitors who want to sing a round of music before candles are blown. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIMI SUE. Although I'm a pain in the ass and in your way, I'm here to celebrate with you.