yeah, i got things

The blog world is all on fire with roasting chestnuts and yuletide wreathing and holiday crayoning, etc.  Here in Armenia, the Peace Corps volunteers are all huddled in their houses around PC issued heaters, wearing night caps (or drinking them) and watching the Christmas movies they may or may not have remembered to bring with them from home.  Next week I’ll be heading south to be with friends.  I plan on doing a lot of talking about what I miss from home, things like Elf Dice, sugar cookies, shuffling under the Christmas tree on my back with my tiny sister and looking up through the branches at the blinking lights and old ornaments.  I’ll wish to be gathering the mattresses so that all the sibs can fall asleep together watching The Nightmare Before Christmas; instead I’ll be falling asleep in a room full of dear hearts that have carried me through some tough times away from home.

I have gone almost 19 months in this country without eating that delightful–ly endorsed cow stomach and cow hoof stew called khash.  I thought perhaps I’d get away with never chewing a hoof in my life.  Today though, around 5pm the my office friends will gather, and the hoof will be chewed.  It is currently simmering in our office kitchen and the smells is wafting right over and threatening to ruin my apetite for the rest of December.

If you want to honor one of the great Christmas contributions of our time (yes I DO mean Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” [chuckles]) you should absolutely go listent to Kimya Dawson’s other-holiday-themed story from The Moth.  Really.

I have a knitting queue for the first time ever.  I’m knitting stuff for people.  I have projects ON THE LINE.  And I think I’m getting carpel tunnel.  Come on, tendons, don’t let me down!  [asks self: ‘Am I old?’]

The other night I was walking home.  It was around 9pm, just me and a quiet, sleepy town.  Oh, and a white horse walking alone up through the street by the square.  The night was wet from an afternoon rain; I stopped and watched the mare saunter slowly toward the museum, her clip-clop the only sound in the winter night.

It a very blustery day.  The pine outside my window is pretty much doing tree yoga.  The windows of the museum are shuddering.  I’m fully expecting an animal, maybe a dog (re: Wizard of Oz) or a cow (re: Twister), to fly in front of me while I type this.

I’m growing a beard.  I’m following my last year’s precedent, New Year New Face.  I’m getting compliments.  It’s going over much better than ‘the broken brush‘ of yesteryear.   Pictures to come?

Merry Christmas.

One Comment

  1. Lovely…I miss the pine tree (now cut down) that stood outside my 6th floor bedroom window and, in high winds, became a metronome. I love your version of “tree yoga.” I can hear and see that one white horse. Hope your Christmas, even so far away from home, is great.

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