something blue

No time for end-of-the-year nostalgia. Maybe another time. We've been busy running errands and packing for our final stint on Statia (which will sink in later I suppose) and it's a miracle I'm even posting this when I am. These pictures, again, took me days and days to upload thanks to my parent's internet. I wasn't as good at picture-taking as I usually am during our trip up to Canada, but there's a reason for that and I'll get to it in a minute, so stop hassling me.

My mom got Always-Frozen Corinne a Snuggie! And she wore it! Even Penny is embarrassed for her! There were multiple occasions when Corinne wandered around with her arms wrapped tightly across her chest muttering about where she put her Snuggie. (I almost made this its own post with the title "Don We Now Our Gay Apparel" but that just didn't happen.)

The most beautiful house inside the town of St Anthony, Idaho. Not like it has much competition, but. I love love love this house and want five just like it.

The jaunt up to Driggs. Our usual lunch spot was closed for the MONTH OF DECEMBER (wtf?) but we found another, almost equally delicious place called Milk Creek Cafe that we will for sure be revisiting for the Philly cheesesteak. And that's why you don't close your restaurant for the MONTH OF DECEMBER.

Swans coming in for landing.

Deer

The General cleaning the snow off the drive for the third time in one day.

How it looked when we left early the next morning. That's pure ice. See, it snowed all day, then it rained all evening, then it froze overnight. HARROWING 11 hour drive to Canada (it should have been 7 and a half). Don't mention it to Jon. His hands are still seized up from white-knuckling the steering wheel. Just kidding, they aren't.

For our SIXTH (!!!!!!!!) anniversary we went and saw Harry Potter then had dinner at a place in Lethbridge called Miro Bistro, and ohhhhhh myyyyy gosssshhhhh. One of the best meals of my life. I got pheasant ravioli, and Jon got the filet mignon. So, so, so, so, so, so, so...so good.

When we got home that night, his parents had bought us an ice cream cake! 'Happy Jon Jessie Anniversary', indeed!

All the grandkids in their Christmas Eve jammies.

Pearl and Norah

Aaaand, that's about the last of the pictures for the trip. On Christmas Eve I started to get The Sore Throat. That deep down ache that I've had enough times to recognize immediately as either strep or tonsillitis, take your pick. I never had my tonsils removed as a kid and they sometimes would get infections upwards of 3 times a year. Never quite made it to the mandatory four that was required in order for insurance to cover the cost of surgery. But it had been years - YEARS! - since my last infection. Anyway I got it bad, missed Christmas morning with the family, and I don't want to get TOO graphic, but spent several hours over the next few days vomiting neon green mucus. You're welcome! By the time I finally went to the Raymond Clinic, my throat was so infected that the doctor glanced in for a split second then practically jumped across the room. Then he reached for the throat swab kit and I warned him that I would turn into a wild animal the moment he approached me with it, and probably throw up on him. A strong gag reflex combined with an intense fear of vomiting turns me into a total nut when it comes to those throat swabbing things (when I was relating this story to my mom, she started laughing hysterically at the memory of having to literally pin me to the exam table while the nurse swabbed my throat, WHEN I WAS TWELVE). Anyway, when I told him how I felt about those things, he quickly conceded that it was strep throat and said he didn't need a lab test to confirm it. Now, six days into my antibiotics regimen, I feel great.

One last thing. My surprise Christmas present from Jon. There was a jewelry-sized box in my stocking containing.........THREE BLUE BEADS.

I basically was in shock. When I recovered enough to stammer out a plea for explanation, I learned that our old, old landlady GAVE them to Jon when he went to pay December's rent. She shuffled inside and came back out with a little tin box obviously containing her cherished childhood keepsakes - a feather, a watch, and three blue beads that her grandmother had given her when she was three years old. Not realizing she was GIVING them to him, Jon admired the beads for a few moments before handing them back. Thinking he was rejecting her present, Mrs Timbers teared up and asked, "You don't want them?" Such a precious gift. I'll post close-ups another time.

So that was the excitement of the year. Currently we're at Annie's place in Heber, and we fly out of Salt Lake early early Sunday morning.

kthxbai