I have to pee, it must be morning...

LOLOL...

Okay, now that I'm done laughing at my own joke, I shall give you a brief report.  Basically?  The kids are back at school and I am writing myself STUPID.  STUPID I tell you-- I am sleep deprived, cranky, and irrational, and the dragon is riding my back so hard I've got bloody stripes down my flesh.  (heh heh heh... see?  Purple prose in a blog... TOLDYA I wasn't sane!)

Anyway, I was a good mommy all winter break-- I only wrote when no one was around to SEE me working, and most of my down time was knitting time anyway, so I could sit and watch Christmas specials and go see lights and make Christmas baskets etc. etc. , which meant I didn't get a lot of work DONE!  And as much as I needed it, as much as I loved the time with my family... well, I was blowing off a deadline.  I'm proud that I was able to set it aside and be mommy, and love it with 100% of my heart... but now?

Now I's gotsta write my little heart out.  And I have been.  But staying up until two in the morning and getting up at 6:30 (because all the soda/water/vitamin water I drank at 1:30 to stay up has hit the fan and I have to pee like no racehorse in history!)  And, well, the inevitable has happened.  I'm a widdo-bit stoned on sleep deprivation, and am about two hours from sitting in a corner and giggling to myself, and then writing another chapter of absolute driveling nonsense in the same way I talk for HOURS if there was someone here to talk back to me.  (Mate has gotten to the point where he recognizes this.  If I crawl into bed at two a.m. and am suddenly all hot to talk about laundry, finances, and child-rearing, sometimes he has to say, "Shut up, Amy, and go to sleep," or we will BOTH be sleep deprived, and that's no fun at all. He doesn't get the giggles for one, and if neither of us is rational, we tend to yell at each other about stupid stuff and then get all sad when we're done.)

But Sidecar is coming along nicely.  It's a period piece (too recent to be an historical) about the 80's... now, everyone knows about the hair and the music, but some of this has made me research shit.  When did we stop air-popping popcorn and start microwaving it?  When did Pert get big?  (At least '86, because Mate used it in his hair and it smelled SO good!)  How much did gas cost?  What did guys do with their hair after the mullet grew out?  How did guys look sexy in the early nineties when they were suddenly wearing oversized plaid flannel?  How would a guy who likes mostly rock 'n' roll seduce a George Michael/Madonna fan into electric guitar?

So I've had fun playing with that--but it still feels detail thin.

So, what's YOUR favorite 80's/2012 time warp?  What details would YOU add, if you were writing Joe and Casey's story?  Because, although the end is in sight, there's still a bit of a journey, and I want this to be so textured, you can smell the Pert!  Let me know-- I'll love to hear ideas!

And in the meantime?  I'm gonna go lie down and pet Steve and giggle to myself until I sleep:-)

Whew! Now that THAT'S over with...

I'm ready to start a new year!

I didn't make a lot of New Year's resolutions-- mostly the whole "gonna lose weight" thing, blah blah blah... I WOULD like to read everybody's blogs more-- I miss that.  You're my friends and I feel I've been neglecting you.  Unfortunately, I make that resolution when there's kids in the house--people, I've got to tell you, the older they get, the more they talk, the less likely I am to, I don't know, have two brain cells fire in sequence without an interruption!

I have to admit.  This weekend, I just gave up.  I gave up on getting work done (which, paradoxically, is when I got a LOT of it done--go figure!)  I gave up on knitting, I just... I dunno.  I sat on the chair and fell asleep a lot.  Got some knitting done, and, well, I guess the kids are calling it "chillaxing", and it seems sort of new fangled and, *yawn*  full of sleeping, but I gotta say, it was oddly refreshing too!

Although, I have to admit... "napping" on the chair with kids on my lap has changed tone in the last couple of years.  For one thing, the kids have become a lot more active.  Nothing is LESS restful than sitting on a chair while two grade schoolers initiate a cold war of bickering, and then follow it up with hand-infantry and full-metal squirming, complete with lethal ass-bones and the occasional boob-popping jab with the elbow.  Be that as it may, it did not stop me from waking up yesterday with Squish on my lap, telling Richard Dreyfuss why he was living his life wrong to end up in that shark cage in the ocean.

"You need to get out of that cage because you should NOT be there.  That is a BAD place to be, and that shark will get you.  You need to get on the boat, because sharks don't go there."  *snicker*  The rest of the movie really WAS  a surprise to her, and I'm ashamed to say, I was so out of it, I let her see it.  by then, Zoomboy was on the other side of me, and she took the bossing to a whole new level.

"You need to look away, because this is icky.  I can watch, because I don't get nightmares, but you get scared.  Look away now--good.  Eww.  The shark bit him and he's bleeding now."

And, of course, by this time, I was fully awake and laughing my ass off.

Another thing that has made this vacation not quite so restful is that Chicken has her driver's permit, Goddess save us all.  We spent an hour yesterday doing three point turns, which was good (although if I hadn't had my knitting, I would have been carsick) and she was...

Okay.  I"m sure my nearest and dearest will tell you I was a worse driver when I was her age--but that is only because my nearest and dearest were of the "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR, A SIGN FROM GOD!!!?" school of teaching driving, and I am more from the "A panicked driver is a driver who will dart into an oncoming lane because it suddenly seems like the right thing to do!" school of driving.  So, while I endeavor not to panic, Chicken endeavors not to ACT panicked, while in the meantime, her voice has risen an octave, her game-face is locked on, and she's telling me how totally calm she is.

*headdesk*

Yeah.  I seem to remember telling her father he was going to teach her.  He seemed to have a good philosophy, too,--it involved him eating a cookie while she drove.  I liked that.  I think he should do more of that-- just sayin'!  (Besides-- he's the one who will be less impacted by the cookie eating.  Again, sayin'...)

But generally?  I'm feeling a little more refreshed than I was two weeks ago, and a little more positive--and a little more certain that once the kids are back in school, I will DEFINITELY be on the write path.  No, that's not a misspelling... writing with them in the house has become a near impossibility.  I foresee a lot of me with my laptop at McDonalds over the summer.  Yay team!

And in the meantime?  Thank you everybody-- thank you so very very much.  Everyone who left comments, both here and at goodreads.com -- you were supportive and wonderful and really really awesome.  I'm starting the New Year VERY clean, VERY shiny, and with VERY much promise.  Thank you.  You all helped that happen.

Amy

Things I didn't count on

Okay-- we're supposed to say goodbye to the old year before saying hello to the new, right?  Well, I've had this piece actually WRITTEN UP for over a month.  I didn't publish it at first because the whole thing wasn't wrapped up, and then I didn't publish it because I'd put out the other things with fewer details, and I was sick of talking about it by then.  But this was still in my archives, and it was still a significant part of my year.

I still don't want to talk about it.  It dominated my thoughts for so very long.  But I didn't want to delete this post either.  It was just hanging out in the back of the post closet, like luggage.  So I'm going to toss out the old--clear the air, as much as I possibly can (because some shit is still listed under confidential, and I'll honor that)  and then when I talk about this event in the past tense, folks will know what happened.  Those of you who have been here for a long haul already know what my writing has cost me, and how much of everything--joy, pain, anger, whatever--lies behind the words, "Yeah, I used to teach."


* I didn't count on homophobia being so rampant in my community.

*  I didn't count on being pulled out of my classroom and put under investigation from my school district after one parent complaint about their student reading Truth in the Dark and Litha's Constant Whim in October of last year.

*  I didn't count on the powers that be taking one look at the book, seeing two male leads, and calling it porn.

*  I didn't count on having two lawyers assigned to me to help me get my job back.

*  I didn't count on the whole process taking over 14 months.

*  I didn't count on lapsing into depression when a chance to go back into the classroom was cruelly jerked away from me last November.

*  I didn't count on yanking myself back to the here and now with the help of aqua-aerobics and the world's most supportive Mate.

*  I didn't count on missing a job that had caused me so much misery quite so badly.

*  I didn't count on stupid things triggering a big, aching hole in my chest.  (The sob-fest I had over the graduation event of The Suite Life of Zach and Cody was not one of my finer moments.)

*  I didn't count on the district spending a WHOLE lot of money investigating every move documented in my blog for the last five years to see if they had anything to fire me with.

*  I didn't count on looking at my past blogs and realizing how very alienated I felt from my profession.

*  I didn't count on the investigator looking at my past logs and not finding anything at all that was actually a fireable offense--not even calling my past principal a vainglorious prickweenie and a festering cockroach turd.

*  I didn't count on how hard it would be to let go of my identity as a teacher, even over the course of fourteen months.

*  I didn't count on the feeling of freedom I would get when faced with the prospects of making my living on the merit of my writing alone.

*  I didn't count on my lawyer telling me I had an EXTREMELY defensible case, if I chose to pursue it.

* I didn't count on the little part of me that wanted to fight like hell for my job just so I could quit on my own terms.

*  I didn't count on Mate feeling the same way.

*  In spite of that last one, I didn't count on being so very ready to walk away, when the time came to settle.

*  I didn't count on losing my emotional nut anyway, when I made the decision.  (In the parking lot of Safeway, of all things.)

*  I didn't count on my classroom being used as a storehouse when I came to pick up my stuff.

*  I didn't count on my dread of getting my things being not EVEN as fucked up as the event itself.

*  I didn't count on my crazy friend Wendy trying to take EVERYTHING out of the room, even shit that had no practical purpose, while I was trying grimly to sort the stuff that was mine from the stuff that had been thrown into the room for the sheer fuckery of it.

*  I didn't count on not seeing anyone I knew when I went back.  I didn't count on not being able to say goodbye.

*  I didn't count on screaming to the lyrics of Bleed It Out as we finished packing up.

*  I didn't count on ever being able to type this up, and know it was done.  

*  I didn't count on facing the demise of a career I loved with quite this much peace.

The Good Week

So, we went to Mate's mom's and grandma's yesterday, and exchanged gifts.  Ours was mostly fudge and a washcloth, theirs was mostly See's candy.  But it was a family meeting for Christmas, and that's always lovely.  The sky was amazing on the way home--I love that stark contrast between the oak trees and the great beyond, so I tried to capture it on my crappy camera and was reminded of my first book cover, Vulnerable.  Mate took that picture in some of the same country, and I love it, and I love this picture (bad resolution and all) as well.

And this is an Air Swimmer.  It's one of Zoomboy's presents from Santa-- It's sort of amazing, actually.  It's a remote controlled balloon.  You press the button and this giant fin, painstakingly attached to the balloon's pointed arse, waves slowly back and forth and the big shark thing moves down the hall.  You press another button, and that weight thing yoiu see moves up and down, and the shark can go lower or higher on command.  DUDE!  Coolest present EVER!

 Squish, on the other hand, got lots and lots of Barbies-- but her reaction to them was priceless.  "Look, Mom!  I got a pink car!  With HUMANS in the front!"

So Barbies are now "humans"--and humans are surprised!

My present--unanticipated, mind you-- was an HD radio.  I was not expecting it.  It seems that Mate, seeing me deal with my little portable speaker/iPod assembly, was full of both mortification and pity, and felt the need to rectify that wrong.  The result is a new car stereo so magical, it makes my crappy old speakers sound decent, and it has an iPod jack.  I love it--and so does Mate, who drives my car when we go out as a family.  My present to him was a new shirt and a copy of Mel Brooks doing his 2000 year old man bit-- something Mate was both surprised at and happy for, but that leaves me feeling, once again, a little bit "special" in the gifting department.  Ah, well.

And this is my family on Christmas Eve.  The kids had just opened their ONE present for the evening, and they all picked the present from each other--which they are modeling.  They made each other so happy--and that, in turn, made Mate and I ecstatic.

And now, it's about getting back to work--albeit in a leisurely, "I can quit when there's a good movie on" sort of way.  We visit Sam's family today-- I should finish the socks I started working on for Sam's mom.    And I'm back in aqua classes--mostly because if I don't go, I can't move, my neck and shoulders hurt so bad!

So this is the good week-- the relaxing, take Chicken shopping and driving sort of week.  (Her first driving lesson from a professional left her profoundly scarred and sobbing on the bed.  God save us from young drivers!)  The sleep in and let the kids sit on my lap sort of week.  My favorite part of Christmas, when our house is messy, our hearts full, and when we can play with our Air Swimmers and small humans in peace:-)

Hark the Herald Angels Sing...

Me:  Some people believe that God had a woman on earth give birth to his son.


Squish:  Then she would be the Goddess mommy, right?

Me:  Absofrickinlutely.


*****

Zoomboy:  Let's play the end-letter game.  I'll start.  TigeR.

Me:  ReallY?

Zoomboy:  Yes!

*****

Me:  Chicken, if I call my phone will you go get it?

Chicken:  Yeah, sure.  *listens for ring tone*  There it is.  Under your ten piles of crap.

Me:  You had any doubts.


*****

Me, while Mate is driving us down a BUSY URBAN road we probably drive three times a week:  Ostrich.

Mate:  Emu?

Me:  NO!  There is a FUCKING OSTRICH on that bare spot of land beyond those trees.  And about six zillion pigs.

Mate:  Wow.  Go figure.

Me:  Zoomboy tried to tell me about it a couple of weeks ago.  I thought he was just riffing on jungle animals.  My bad.

*****

Chicken:  Here's your phone!

Me:  What did you do to it?

Chicken:  Made it Japanese.

Me:  Christmas Yaoi.  How festive!

Chicken:  But of course.  And you're welcome.

*****

Zoomboy, holding up Steve the girl cat to Chiquita the girl dog:  Hello, dog.  Here is the cat you slept with!

Me (to myself):  I have no idea what that means, but I bet the dog is really confused.

*****

Big T, outside in the 50 degree weather in shorts and zorries, washing the pickup truck Mate has helped my father fix up for him:  But if I was wearing cold weather clothes they'd just get wet when I washed the car.

Me:  But you don't even have your PERMIT, why does the car need to be clean?

*****

Me (over the phone, in front of the store):  Okay, so I need to buy vegetable oil.  What else.

Chicken:  Nuts.

Me:  So vegetable oil and nuts for the fudge.

Chicken:  Yes.

Me:  Vegetable oil and nuts for the fudge.

Chicken (snickering):  Yes.

Me:  Fudge nuts.

Chicken:  STOP!

Me:  Vegetable oil and nuts for the fudge, vegetable oil and nuts for the fudge, vegetable oil and nuts for the fudge... my God, there's just no way to say that without it sounding dirty, is there?

Chicken (laughing uncontrollably):  No... oh God... no...

*****

Mate (after tasting peanut butter fudge he's made):  Oh God, that's good.

Me:  Can I have a piece?

Mate:  A piece is too much.  This has to be doled out in shavings.

*****

Squish (after wrapping up a candle we have on the mantlepiece in paper towels, wrapping paper, and an entire container of tape):  Do you want to open your present mom?

*****

Me (to my editor after turning in a project):  Okay-- I can't do anything else until after Christmas.  Unless you can think of a way for me to knit with my hands while typing with my toes.

*****

Me (texting to my "work wife" Mary):  Sorry I dropped the conversation.  Mate was busy asking me about my online girlfriend and then tickling me until I screamed.

Mary:  My husband says the same thing about you.

*****
Chicken's best friend, after spending two hours in the car with us, looking for Christmas lights:  Thank you--I had a lot of fun!

Me:  Really?

Best friend:  Really-- I love your family!

Me, to Mate and Chicken, after she's walked in:  I have no idea why.

Chicken:  Me neither, but she keeps asking to come back.

*****

May your holidays be merry and your Christmas/Solstice/Hanukkah be especially bright, and may you feel as blessed as I am by my family and friends, both online and IRL.  I know I cannot count my blessings, because there are just too many to count.

Love and peace and wishes warm,

Amy

Writing Wrap Up

Okay-- I've been sort of a big blog slut this last month.  I mean seriously-- there is NO place I haven't been.  Want proof?

Paranormal Paradigms

Tales From the Writing Cave

Chaos in the Moonlight

Stumbling Over Chaos (This is a contest for Puppy, Car, and Snow)

See!!!!  I'm like Barbie!  That bitch is EVERYWHERE during Christmas!

Anyway, as you can see by my lovely little medallion up there, I've also been nominated in the M/M Romance Member's Choice Awards--and I'm really proud.  Now, I'm not sure if you can vote in this if you're not a member, so let me know--but I think the link will get you to the ballot survey.

All that, and my folks are taking the kids today, so Mate and I will get a chance to wrap presents-- HUZZAH!

And *whew* I still need to write a chapter and finish my Christmas knitting.  I'll be back with a Christmas post and some cheer and all-- I just thought some of this stuff should be shared:-)


Oh yeah-- and Puppy, Car, and Snow is out on amazon.com and ARe as well!  Wheee!!!

Puppy, Car, Snow, and Squish

 Oh my Goddess-- you KNOW it's been a big week when I almost miss my own book release.  Seriously-- I almost completely forgot!  Puppy, Car, and Snow is coming out, and besides really loving the simplicity and charm of the cover, I'm sort of pleased by the story as a whole.   It was a request, actually, and I'm always sort of thrilled to do those!  Elizabeth, my publisher at Dreamspinner, really sort of loved my first guys.  Jace and Quent from Gambling Men have their own novel coming out in May, and that's a WHOLE other story, but Ryan and Scotty, who also showed up in the Curious Anthology in the short story, "Shirt", were also favorites.  Yeah, they got their own story in Phonebook, but Elizabeth wanted to see more of them, and she wanted to see them for Christmas.  (She's done this with a couple of authors, I think-- Mary Calmes and Isabelle Rowan and Andrew Grey, that I know of for certain.)  

Anyway, Elizabeth asked, and I wrote, and because Ryan and Scotty have always been about finding the greatest joys in the simplest things, I kept the title--and the theme--simple.  My guys are having Christmas with Ryan's family.  Ryan's mother is the disapproving sort.  Let the games begin!  For those of you interested, do read the excerpt that you can find when you follow the link-- it's short, hot, and, features a giant luggage-eating not-poodle.  How can you go wrong?

 And this is Squish, after her photo appointment with the big guy in the red suit.  She's telling me what she wants for Christmas, and none of it sounds remotely like what Mate and I got when we were in the pink aisle at Toys R'Us.  I hope general pink will do for her--when it comes to specific pink, I'm thinking we've just failed Christmas.

And this is my santa and his elf.  She looks really demonic in this picture.  She, umm, sort of is in real life too--but in the cute, you want to just squeeze those little cheeks way!

And this is the two of them in line, charming the holy bejeebus socks out of everybody. Okay--maybe just me, but my holy bejeebus socks were nowhere in sight by the time I turned them loose with their older siblings in what must have been the shortest shopping trip in history.  The mall was almost empty, and I think we spent a grand total, Santa and all, of an hour and a half there, and that included pretzels and Icees when they were done.  Holy crapgasm, batman-- best shopping trip EVER!

And this is Chicken, because this outfit?  Is awesome sauce, plain and simple.  Don't mind the scowling--she doesn't recognize her own awesomeness.  Makes her grumpy.  And that manic bit of pre-cut foam?  That is practically the closest thing you can find to a model these days-- it's Santa's Ski Lodge, (although we've been calling it Santa's Little Sweatshop all week, in honor of our time with our Christmas cards, which were, as always, a family endeavor!)  

And Squish... making sure her elf is intact.  She should have no worries-- she's elfish at it's best:-)

Bad Blogger!

Okay-- so I went back and realized I had blogged APPALLINGLY few times in the last two weeks--blogger's guilt-- IT'S REAL!

Anyway-- yesterday was a big day for Squish.  She had a tea party--something she has been excited about  for TWO WEEKS, and I was invited.  Of course, I didn't realize I was invited to volunteer, but that was fine.  I served the kindergartners finger sandwiches and cookies and hot chocolate, and Mate brought them cookies (too many rich cookies--I was relieved when the teacher said, "Oh, I'm taking THESE to the staff room!"  because that was thirty pounds of fat I SO didn't need!)  Anyway, after we served the cookies (and I almost screwed up my back forever and for good by serving on a teeny-tiny counter made for five year olds!) there was entertainment.  They all stood up and sang for us, and I loved it.  Yes--in politically correct California, they sang Christmas songs, and my pagan heart was remarkably unruffled.  They were wonderful, and Rudolph the Red-nose Reindeer has never sounded more disorganized--or better.

So after that, we went home, had a frozen burrito, and then got ready for her NEXT performance, her dance performance with her class.  The dance was held at a local community center, and she acquitted Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas Song... well, with heart.  Her heart was definitely in it.  And she DEFINITELY knew the move to "I still want a hula-hoop!" and that's always a good stopping place.  

So it was a big day for Squish-- but she wasn't the only one with a big week.  Zoomboy got two academic awards--and I have to tell you, not a lot of kids get those.  He got one award for actual achievement, and the other award for being an all around good kid in the classroom.  My pictures of that were even worse than the picture of Squish dancing, and that's sort of where I draw the line, but suffice it to say he was extremely sober for the entire presentation--but very happy to see me at the school.  

Chicken was called by a recruiter for an art school-- a family phone call as it were, and took the first steps in applying for financial aid (for which Mate and I will be indebted all our lives!)  Anyway--the fun part (according to Chicken) was knowing that Mate and I were texting questions to each other while we were listening to the recruiters.  Of course watching Chicken get quietly excited about the possibility of going away to school was also a plus.  Mate and I had to work our way through school--a lot of people we know have had to work their way through school, and that's awesome.  The idea that people can do that is awesome.  But if we could give this education to Chicken--wow.  I'd just be so proud.  She's worked so hard--I would so love to see her have a future that started with all those high hopes.  And then Mate and I would have nine years to rest, relax, and save for the next genius kid, because Zoomboy isn't going to be letting his future languish!

And Big T turned nineteen.  We took him to sushi (Zoomboy hated it!) but everyone else enjoyed the hell out of it.  Mate and I got all the sashimi on the platter because we were the only one's crazy about raw fish, and Big T and Chicken loved the roll with the deep fried shrimp in the middle.  (Unsophisticated sushi.  Yup.)  But it was awesome, we loved it, and I want more!  And T was grateful for his presents--mostly winter clothes--but I've promised him a hat and a scarf that match and are lovely after Christmas.  When he was in the fifth grade I crocheted him a "fish scarf"-- a series of fish motifs that interlocked.  The scarf is bright red, blue and yellow, and made in acrylic yarn, and T hated it until he hit high school when suddenly it had a funky appeal.  Anyway, he's requested something more grown up, and I'm making him the Noro scarf, with a matching hat--because it's bright in an appealing Dr. Who way, but it's also a little more grown up.  And it will keep him warm.  

So this week promises to be crazy--and I actually have knitting to do!  (I know, you all thought I forgot Christmas knitting--nope!)  And a Christmas release on Wednesday.  And blurbs to write.  And more shopping to do.  And a house to clean.  And someday, someday soon, I'll have to explain how I came to lose my job over loaning a couple of books to some kids who could handle it.  

But not today.  Today, Zoomboy is begging for a cuddle, and it's been a helluva week.  I figure he's due:-)

We all know I can't count anyway

On the tenth day before Christmas, my true love gave to me...


Chicken's second permit test
A trip to the tree farm
Another frickin' edit
Ten more blurbs a-writing
Two college recruitment meetings
A day of Christmas shopping
One lost Clifford Journal
My oldest' son's birthday
A trip to buy his present
A family sushi dinner
A postponed trip to the vets
Four tired kids,

Three school presentations

Two dentist appointments

A trip to Zoomboy's doctor

And office party that went from house to house...

And THAT ladies and gentlemen, is why I haven't blogged so much...

Catch you this weekend, when I can collapse, cry and breathe!

Amy out!

(And I'll leave you with this, a gift from Roxie in the past)

No Snow...

AOkay-- first things first.  Last night, Mate and I went to a traveling Christmas Party.  A bunch of people in the same neighborhood walked from house to house and drank a lot.  (I drank a lot of water.  It was COLD, and I was having more fun watching the drunk people walk, really.  Anyway, in one house, there was a chinchilla.  I shit you not.

 And the rest of this?  This is Christmas tree hunting.  Here, we have hunted and felled the mighty Christmas tree.  Zoomboy is taking his turn here--but his older brother did the bulk of the work.

O

 And here?  We have a tree with a Santa hat.  Considering the fact that Zoomboy has been wearing that hat since December 1st, the tree didn't have much of a chance.

 Zoomboy and Very Big T say hello.  Zoomboy espouses the attributes of the perfect tree.

This morning, as I was getting out hats for Squish, she almost picked the Hello Kitty hat.  Then this one came out, and she jumped on it, because, in her words, "It looks really great with my glasses!"

That's Squish-- fashion forward:-)

 And this?  This is just an overview of Snowy Peaks Christmas Tree Farm, which, for those who are curious, is deep in the heart of Green's Hill country. It's almost to Sugarpine, which means Jack and Teague could have been nosing about anywhere the dogs were not.  (They were everywhere--a Christmas Tree Farm is a dog's happy place!)

And doesn't every kid need a dorky picture of a kid in a Santa hat in his archives?  Cause, umm, we've got Zoomboy COVERED!

And this is a picture of my folks, Squish in their wake, starting off on the great Christmas Tree Hunt... it was a splendid adventure!