Title and description liberally borrowed from Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad.

12.26.2009

'Tis A Season

Christmas is now officially over and done with, the extent of celebratory festivities being "family" dinner, team gift opening, and a soak in the hot tub. Although the latter happens more often than not, it occurred on Christmas, thenceforth will be considered a "festivity." I worked all day yesterday, and although 80% of customers wished us a Merry Christmas, none of us could figure out what they were talking about. Christmas? What's Christmas? We don't have holidays. We don't have weekends. We don't even know what day, let alone what month it is.

As a gesture towards the holiday we all assume has passed though none of us have experienced it, I currently have a batch of the family heirloom cinnamon rolls set to rise in the oven. (The warmest place I could find in our -100000˚ temperatures out here. No kidding - windchills yesterday were down to -55˚F, the wind at the base was blowing directly sideways. I felt like I was in an Antarctica scene out of Plant Earth.) Yes, I know I baked a fresh loaf of bread and a dozen muffins the other day, but no harm in even more homemade goodies, right? It's a holiday after all...kind of.

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