Nicer Christmas things
And, because Christmas is not just about breaking cars... We had a good few days with my parents, in W'combe (ancient capital of Merica, best small town in the whole world etc. etc. - I am consitutionally bound to say these things at all times, on pain of disinheritance.) An aunt always spends Christmas there, too, along with her invisible cat.
Ironically, I probably indulge less that Christmas than at any other time. My parents are very abstemious with drink. Chocolates are passed round after dinner, and people have one each, before they get put away again. We go to bed at 10. I don't like Christmas pud, Christmas cake, mince pies etc, so have fruit for pudding. My main indulgence is a few million sausage and bacon rolls and stuffing balls, which are my Favourite Foods Ever, and I have about 15 of each with my Christmas dinner and would happily eat 15 more.
Mostly, we sat around chatting, doing puzzles, playing games, and scurrying around looking at reference books, trying to do the annual King William College Quiz from the Guardian. (I think we did better this year than last year.) Chinese Consequences has been imported successfully into my family's Christmas. Why is it that no matter what phrase you start with, guns have appeared by half way through? Pellinor did some very expressive stick men, inspired by the Order of the Stick artwork, which caused great hilarity.
I got various CDs - various chorals works to replace old, wavering cassette tapes, and the Donnie Darko soundtrack. I got the DVD of "By the sword divided", which I loved when I was 12 or 13, or so, and very obsessed with the English Civil War. I hope I still like it now. Pellinor got me a special keyboard set up for first person shooters, which should be useful for LAN parties, a thing by which I can convert all my old, wavering tapes onto the computer, and a large, stuffed d20. My Mum looked at me as if I was very odd to get these things. But, then, she opened her presents from me, and said, "ooh! I horrible, falling apart, battered old book!", and my aunt looked at her as if she was strange. There's no accounting for taste.
Pellinor got a very, very disturbing bottle opener, but not from me. I got a strange, pink monster-mutant alien, which claims to be a hand-warmer. The combined scientific brains of Pellinor and my Dad couldn't work out how it worked.
And now we're home, where it's time to catch up on a few choice bits of Christmas TV, and have snowball fights in Guild Wars' Winterday special event.
Ironically, I probably indulge less that Christmas than at any other time. My parents are very abstemious with drink. Chocolates are passed round after dinner, and people have one each, before they get put away again. We go to bed at 10. I don't like Christmas pud, Christmas cake, mince pies etc, so have fruit for pudding. My main indulgence is a few million sausage and bacon rolls and stuffing balls, which are my Favourite Foods Ever, and I have about 15 of each with my Christmas dinner and would happily eat 15 more.
Mostly, we sat around chatting, doing puzzles, playing games, and scurrying around looking at reference books, trying to do the annual King William College Quiz from the Guardian. (I think we did better this year than last year.) Chinese Consequences has been imported successfully into my family's Christmas. Why is it that no matter what phrase you start with, guns have appeared by half way through? Pellinor did some very expressive stick men, inspired by the Order of the Stick artwork, which caused great hilarity.
I got various CDs - various chorals works to replace old, wavering cassette tapes, and the Donnie Darko soundtrack. I got the DVD of "By the sword divided", which I loved when I was 12 or 13, or so, and very obsessed with the English Civil War. I hope I still like it now. Pellinor got me a special keyboard set up for first person shooters, which should be useful for LAN parties, a thing by which I can convert all my old, wavering tapes onto the computer, and a large, stuffed d20. My Mum looked at me as if I was very odd to get these things. But, then, she opened her presents from me, and said, "ooh! I horrible, falling apart, battered old book!", and my aunt looked at her as if she was strange. There's no accounting for taste.
Pellinor got a very, very disturbing bottle opener, but not from me. I got a strange, pink monster-mutant alien, which claims to be a hand-warmer. The combined scientific brains of Pellinor and my Dad couldn't work out how it worked.
And now we're home, where it's time to catch up on a few choice bits of Christmas TV, and have snowball fights in Guild Wars' Winterday special event.