Politically Incorrect Christmas

JT (and Tiger) got their first look at the Christmas booty at a very civilized 7:45 am.

Santa delivered the boy an impressive array of treats and the Egyptian section of the Playmobil catalog.  As I write, the boy is busily decoding his new pyramid and its many secret compartments. He's got a herd of camels, a substantial cache of weapons (including his first scimitar), any number of dangerous-looking swarthy characters, and his very own mummy. When Grandma and Grandpa phoned,  Grandpa suggested that JT have a look for Osama bin Laden, but as I recall it's Saudi Arabia and not Egypt who has unclean hands on that front.  In any case, we don't think that Homeland Security should be called in.  Yet.

In pursuit of my organic gardening ways, I scored a salad spinner and a warm yellow countertop composting bin for Christmas.  My sister, apparently fearful that I'm about to join a commune, countered the granola offerings with a six-pack of glittery lip gloss and a black cashmere cardigan sweater (the latter straight off my life list).  So I am all set for a variety of circumstances in 2010.

The cats scored some catnip and a heaping bowl of kibble.  There will be a formidable Christmas feast come the afternoon.  In the meantime, I feel that a bit of reading (I got Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates) and a nap are in order. 

Merry Christmas to all!