Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
♦ Well, ol’ Robbo was finally forced to break down and go get the Tree yesterday afternoon, checkmated by the Port Swiller Family schedule for the next two weeks which precludes decorating the thing any other time than this afternoon. UPDATE: Done and done. As per usual, Ol’ Robbo strung the lights and the gels put up all the gewgaws. Made a good job of it, too.
♦ One of my many casual neuroses is a fear that the tree is going to slide off the roof of the ol’ Jeep as I bring it home. Every year I look dubiously at the thin strands of twine being strung across the thing higgldy-piggldy by mere kids and wish I’d brought along a set of bungee cords. Every year I creep along the five or six miles from my church to Port Swiller Manor at the pace of a Florida retiree in a Cadillac on I-95. And every year my fear is proved misplaced except the one year when I forgot and did my usual bootlegger turn into the driveway. Dang tree practically took off, sliding down the windshield right in front of me and trying to roll overboard.
UPDATE: Forgot to mention that when the kid was loading the tree on top of La Wrangler, he asked me how I liked driving her. I replied enthusiastically, after which he said, “I dunno, it just looks so bad-ass.”
Get that? What have I been saying all this time? Robbo is a Bad Boy!
♦ Speaking of driving at this time of year, when ol’ Robbo is installed as Emperor, putting a wreath on the grill of your car is gonna cost you a hefty fine. Putting antlers and a red nose on it is going to constitute a flogging offense. Just so you know.
♦ I have to admit that this made me violate the No Hot Beverages rule, to my loss. You’ve been warned.
♦ On a more serious note, here it is Gaudete Sunday already and I don’t feel the slightest bit prepared. I’d had big plans for this Advent in terms of readings and meditations, but work busyness and a series of domestic fires to put out totally threw them out. Oh, well. I’d better get going.