The week between Christmas and the New Year always seems long to me.
It's like a party guest that never knows when to call it an evening.
Snow. While everyone else to the south and north were hit hard, we received just enough not to be an inconvenience, but plenty for a little fun. Here my son sleds down the tallest hill in the state. I would have joined him, but I am afraid of heights.
My wife's cousins came down to the First State for a visit. I can remember when young Samantha rode in a child safety seat and would sing along to "Zombie" by the Cranberries. She is now a college freshman (fresh-woman? fresh-person?). Dan was once shorter than the rest of us, but no one can remember when that was.
From this angle it looks like the cat litter box, but no, it is kale cake, and is the result of having a whole bunch of leftover kale and a morning with nothing to do. It was actually very good.
Art on the streets of Baltimore. How many more skeleton robots must die before we end this madness?
My son checked out the bed of nails.
He later ate broken glass and washed it down with molten lava.
A day spent with Nephew/Cousin Eli in Baltimore. Orange hoodies make convenient grab-alongs.
Sure, anyone can write a thank-you letter for a Christmas present, but only a proud few will dole out an official "Proclamation of Thanks." This one came to us via the US Postal Service. It will soon be framed and displayed.
It's tough enough to hide from two fourth-graders armed with nerf machine guns without someone taking your picture and giving your position away to the enemy. No wonder the military tries to censor media outlets.
New Year's Eve was spent chowing on catfish tails, gumbo, red beans and rice, and my favorite, fried oyster po' boys in Milton, Delaware.
Dinner ended with an impromptu Ugliest Face Contest.
Too close to call. They're all pretty bad.
I'll end it with a shot of the heinous cake constructed for Sunday evening.
My son has been watching "Cake Boss" on Netflix and decided to try his hand at baking a cake.
Somehow, that meant my wife and I trying to build this monstrosity while he stood around a yelled at us with an Italian accent.
The whole family came over and tried some and humored us by saying it was good.
See you next week.