December 29th, 2008

yule, gingerbread motherboard

Before I lose it all to the past: Christmas!

Woke up. There were Big Plans for the day, and, well, some of them happened.

Things started to go a little off-script when I got out my cellphone, because my aunt said I should call my parents. I did. I chatted with Mama for a while (she's feeling better, Dad is not getting worse and therefore shouldn't need to go to the ER) (there was an incident involving a log, followed by urgent care and antibiotics), and then Dad got on the line. This resulted very shortly in him inquiring after my aunt's menopause status, which I helpfully hollered into the kitchen. My aunt emerged and began a monologue, ending up with the part where if she hadn't been through with it already, she would have told him that it was "none of his f-- ... *business*."

Since I'm a helpful child, I edited back in the word she'd edited out.

My aunt took over the call, but the signal was crappy, so she called him back on her landline. That was about 2-ish, and the stuffing was in progress.

My best friend called back. He'd just beat the rest of his family at Scrabble. We giggled at each other.

By 3pm, she was lying on the kitchen floor with her feet propped up on the counter, still chatting away nineteen to the dozen with her oldest brother.

Then we discovered that the turkey was not thawed.

We'd bought it and thought it was not frozen. No such luck. So water baths and microwaves happened, and there was assorted dithering. Finally, the turkey wound up in the oven by 4:30, a mere half-hour before we'd planned to get it out.

My aunt and I got our coats and such on to hit the park she was talking about before the sun went down. This was delayed when the poodle made a mad dash out the door, thinking in his poodley little brain that of course we were bringing him along, and it took some time to get him rounded up and back inside. There was another slight delay while my aunt rescued the errant garbage can lid that had blown across the street the previous night in the lashing wind and rain.

We got to the park just as it was technically closing. Never one to let that sort of thing stop her, my aunt parked in the church's parking lot, and we walked down the trail anyway. As the light faded, we saw a cluster of buck deer, notable by their horns. We shone flashlights on them, but my cellphone camera really sucks. They looked at us a bit, but were mostly licking each other's faces.

We came back, and the turkey was really not done. I provided IRC and Twitter with running commentary.

The turkey finally finished cooking at 10pm. teshiron and ursamajor suggested that we may wish to try Chinese takeout next year.

The stuffing was, of course, not quite up to temperature yet. My aunt put it back in the oven. Some time later, I wandered over and demanded to know how the temperature had dropped. My aunt had in fact turned off the oven when taking out the turkey. Ooops.
running, bomb tech

Boxing Day, and yesterday

On Boxing Day, my aunt and I finished unloading my car, which did require some shuffling stuff in the garage so that this set of boxes could be with the last one.

Around about this point, it also became apparent that the video my aunt had taken for her internship project had ... not taken, and she would have to start over. This was a cause for woe.

We then took the dogs up to Fort Funston. I was feeling a bit worn-out from the box-shuffling, so my aunt proposed that she take the high-energy poodle and I take the arthritic old Lab Deacon. I was amenable to this, although squeamish about picking up dog poop. So my aunt stuck with me until Deacon pooped, and left me with two bags in case he should poop again, and headed off with the poodle. (I also had a container of cubed turkey for bribes.)

Inevitably, Deacon pooped not once, not twice, but three more times. I will note for personages such as the Best Friend that yes, using a bag for more than one instance of poop is all well and good, provided you haven't already thrown out the bag, and also provided that the poop in question is what we might technically call 'solid'. The last and most disgusting one was the one for which I had no bag; I called my aunt in some distress, and she advised that I might bum a bag from a passerby, which I did most apologetically.

The poodle had meanwhile run down to the beach, so my aunt took an unexpected detour.

After we got ourselves collected again, we continued. My aunt had declared that even though she Wasn't Doing Christmas, she was getting my younger cousin and me both new shoes. He'd gone off on his own to pick out shoes earlier. My aunt had a shoe store in mind, but when we arrived they were closed. I spotted another nearby one, and we headed thattaway.

My aunt proceeded to find pretty much every vaguely-black sneaker in the store in a size 10 for me, and I tried them on. This is the sort of proceeding that would have been a high-drama nightmare some 12 years past, but mostly only served to amuse. I found that there are some shoes that are way too light in the heel for me, that I don't trust a single small patch of velcro to hold a sneaker, and that I must be able to dance in a shoe to want to wear it. We eventually narrowed it down, and I vetoed a second pair, although I did look longingly at knee socks.

We hit Trader Joe's after that, which was only notable for my aunt nearly running someone down as she cruised across the parking lot perched on the fully loaded shopping cart. (She's in her mid-50s, and has to get her entertainment somehow.)

We watched some Family Guy (after? with?) dinner.

Aunt-Fayoumis wants to do a road trip up to Seattle to see Tay-Tay. That could be interesting, though I hope to be happily employed by the time that comes about.

I crashed hard after accumulating a whole lot of fic recs.

Yesterday, my aunt and I hit the farmers' market, got a whole lot of vegetables, and then she ran some more errands while I read in the car. Then I crashed out for a nap pretty much when we got back.
phone, cordless phone


So my aunt is doing an internship project involving dog training. Part of this project, part of it that she thought she was done with, was training a dog (including all the bells and whistles) and providing a 'before' and 'after' video of the dog.

Unfortunately, she turned the camera on, set it down, and then stuff happened and she had to deal with the present crisis instead of working with the dog on camera right then. And it recorded to the end of its little tape: the blank wall, and barking dogs. She then turned it off, right enough, but didn't notice (she's not, er, technical) and proceeded to "record" the before, and the after, on "but I am out of tape!!!"

So she located another SPCA dog in need of training, and tapped me as her videographer.

We got down there at a respectable hour given that she was up until 1 reading fic I'd pointed her at (Verity, a new remix of some old fairy tale scenarios) and playing with Google Calendar.

She worked with the dog. I taped.

Dawn called on the way home. Yay! She's been hella busy.

The 'before' video was uploaded with no problems. Hooray, me. I did have to make reference to the manual that I found online, however.

The dogs are both feeling better. They had recent vet trips. The poodle had a cyst removed from the back of his neck; Deacon got painkillers for his arthritis. Deacon merrily humped the poodle last night, so he's feeling a lot better. (The dogs appear, in the immortal words of my aunt, to be gay for each other. Though this doesn't say much considering some dogs will hump anything. Even if they're bitches, like that one guide dog puppy bitch who would try to hump Deacon's face when excited. UR DOIN' IT RONG.)

We went for a walk with the poodle on the beach. Sand is hard.

It's Sunday, so I called my best friend. Yay.

My aunt and I watched Wall-E. That was fun. I really don't keep current with movies anymore. When she brought in the video selection, I was able to unerringly pick out which videos she'd picked vs. which ones Spintherism had picked.

raranax got back in tonight. We immediately began chattering about this and that, which resulted in some interesting vaporware spun off from Uncle Davy's suggestion that I set up a porn recommendation site for the clickthrough. Note: the cheese board should not be used as a Spanky! Spanky! paddle for the poodle. (The Lab is OK though.) (No dogs were actually disturbed in this process, although the paddle should be washed even though it was only applied very lightly.)
running, bomb tech

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