In Which We Find Ourselves in a Pickle

11 12 2006

I really wanted one of these, so we got one.  Naturally I turned to Google to get the scoop, becuase what do pickles have ot do with Christmas?  Turns out that the Christmas Pickle really doesn’t have any roots in any culture, it’s all a myth.  I can handle that.  It’s still cool to have a pickle on the tree in the midst of so many kid-made ornaments, the best kind!  Seriously.  A pickle.  Ok, and why is everything else in focus BUT the pickle? 

 

Here’s an update on the Half Dome for my brother, the No Animal Ingredients Vegan Man.  I’m knitting it in the round, thanks to instructions from this very kind knitter.  I like it.  It’s rather big, but my younger sister, who lives in the same town, assures me that our brother does indeed have a somewhat large head.  It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen him, and strangely enough these are details on tends to forget.  Sibling head circumference, don’t’cha know.

 

 

This weekend was just marvelous, and here begins my test which I’ve chosen to call “Does JungleJim Read My Blog?”  My goal is to write something he cannot let alone, something he’ll have to bring up later on.  Here goes.

 

 Friday night we went to his swanky office Christmas party.  His company, by the way, is #12 in the Best Places to Work.  Nice!  It was much fun, until JungleJim became drunk and began acting in a way I recognized immediately as Drunken Nice Girl.  Very touchy-feely, very affectionate, very overly sweet and I wanted to slug him.  But I didn’t.  I was very very crabby, however, the next morning as I continued my cleaning freak-out, since his parents were coming to town for the first time EVER.  I cooled down, though, because look, he loves me, I love him, there was nothing really inappropriate, I just overreact sometimes.  After about four minutes of being Her Royal Bitchness to him, I went back to cleaning and preparing the place for The Visit.

So.  JungleJim’s parents.  If I didn’t want to marry him before (and I certainly did, and have for quite some time!) I certainly want to marry him now so that my kids and I can be part of such a funny, sweet, affectionate family.  His Mom, heavens.  I know how happy B was to see JungleJim, since it had been two years.  She was hugging him and rubbing his arms, it was so sweet.  That’s exactly how I am with my kids, especially Nolan since he’s the cuddle bug, after they’re at their father’s house for the weekend.  Can’t keep my hands off my kids, and it was so sweet to see her joy at being with her son.  And no, this didn’t alarm me and make me think CLINGY MOTHER!  RUN!  It was a tender Mama and Son moment, the kind that warms everyone who is there to see it.  When JungleJim was four his mother married his step-dad, J.  He told the sweetest story that nearly made me cry.  I did have watery eyes, yes.  His dad told us the story about putting JungleJim on the bus for the first day of school, and how it broke his heart when JungleJim got on the bus to leave for Air Force boot camp.  J said after JungleJim’s Air Force bus left they all went home and cried.  Aw!  J tells great stories, just like my Dad.  J and B were so easy to be around, so sincerely fun and enjoyable!  When we met for breakfast before they hit to road to points further west, B handed me a fistful of dollars and asked me to pick up some Christmas presents for my minions from them.  I wanted to cry again, but didn’t.  How sweet!  So yes, JungleJim, I want to marry you for so many reasons, and your parents are now a special part of that.  There.  Just in case you didn’t know how I feel.  Wink wink.

 
Ok, from Christmas Pickle to begging to get married, this was quite a post!  I’m nearly done with Christmas Knititng, which is a miracle in itself. 

I hope you’re well, loyal reader!

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