Entries Tagged as 'Christmas'

My Midlife Crisis

My TattooAs you know, I recently celebrated my 40th Birthday. What a perfect time for a mid-life crisis. Since I am not in a financial position to buy a new sports car, take on a mistress, or buy enough clothes to start cross-dressing, I decided to go with a tattoo.

It’s a flaming sun with two dragons chasing each other around the inside of the orb. I have been talking about getting a tattoo for some time now and for Christmas I got a gift certificate for a tattoo shop near Seattle from my family up there. You may not be able to recognize that fleshy object to the left as my right calf. The tattoo fills most of the large calf muscle and is about 5-6 inches in diameter. Click the image for a full size view.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect since this was my first tattoo. I learned from the tattoo artist, Dave at Gem Tattoos, that the calf is one of the more painful areas to get inked. Most people start with the shoulder. I wanted it in a place that I could easily show off but still be able to hide when necessary. I know the design is a bit unusual, but I was very pleased with how it turned out. If you live in the Kirkland, Washington area and are interested in a tattoo, go see Dave and tell him Jeff DeLeon-Benham sent you. It won’t give you a price break, but do it anyway.

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The “Legendary” Christmas Pickle

While in Wisconsin recently, Mel and I picked up a new Christmas ornament, a pickle.  I was going to look up the story for you and tell you about it here, but it seems that there is quite a controversy over the Christmas Pickle.

The most popular story is that the pickle originated in Germany.  Many people (especially those selling German Christmas Pickles) assert that the Christmas Pickle was the last ornament to be hung on the tree in old Germany.  Early Christmas morning the kids would rush out to find the pickle and receive a special present.  Unfortunately, no one in Germany has ever heard of such a thing.  They think we are a bit crazy.

The Christmas Pickle is clearly an American tradition.  The most likely alternative to the German tale is that the tradition arose after the American Civil War.  A starving prisoner of Bavarian descent was given a pickle by a guard made sympathetic by the spirit of Christmas.  The prisoner lived and always placed a pickle in his Christmas tree each year to commemorate the event. 

Whatever the truth is, we now have a shiny green pickle hanging in our tree.  Do you have any unusual Christmas traditions?

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Christmas with Cats

One of the reasons Mel and I didn’t have a Christmas tree this year (or the last 2 years) is that we have two adorable cats. Well … one is somewhat adorable, the other is somewhat demonic. Both would be inside the tree having ornament fights in a matter of seconds. Not fun.

I saw an interesting, if a bit strange, solution to this problem this morning. You should see it for yourself. Read Bizzi Mom’s December 23, 2005 post to see how they kept the cats out of the tree this year.

The Heart of Christmas?

It was an eventful Christmas Eve and Christmas morning for us. I got a call at work last night to let me know that Dad was in the hospital again. He had gone in early yesterday evening with chest pains. It turned out that it was not a heart attack after all, but it was still worrisome. It seems that pain like this is going to be a recurring problem for as long as his heart condition persists, and his heart condition will persist as long as he has this heart.

So this morning instead of heading to mom and dad’s for Christmas, I headed to the hospital. On the way there, mom called me to tell me that dad was being released and asked if I would pick him up and take him home. I was relieved.

It was a happy ending after all, but it still leaves a lingering feeling of concern and aprehension. Dad worries about it too, but he is more worried about how the rest of us are feeling than his own problems.

Twas The Night Before Implementation

My Aunt Louise sent me this. I thought I would share it with you.

Thanks for visiting, Louise!

Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,

Not a program was working, not even a browse.

The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,

With hopes that a miracle soon would be there.

The users were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of inquiries danced in their heads.

When out in the machine room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a super programmer ( with a six-pack of beer ).

His resume glowed with experience so rare,

He turned out great code with a bit-pusher’s flair.

More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,

And he cursed and muttered and called them by name.

On Update! On Add! On Inquiry! On Delete!

On Batch Jobs! On Closings! On Functions Complete!

His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean,

From weekends and nights in front of a screen.

A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

Turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger upon the “ENTER” key,

The system came up and worked perfectly.

The updates updated; the deletes, they deleted;

The inquiries inquired, and closings completed.

He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,

With nary a bomb, and all had gone well.

The system was finished, the tests were concluded,

The users’ last changes were even included.

And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,

“It’s just what I asked for, but not what I want!”

Christmas Cards

Last night as we walked through downtown Portland looking at shop windows in the freezing cold I was thinking about how Mel and I really need to start sending out Christmas cards every year. I mean, we’ve been married almost 3 years now and as a married couple I think there is some sort of law that you have to send out Christmas cards.

Problem is, we both are too lazy. It would require going to the store, picking out some cards, finding everyone’s address, writing a seemingly personal message on each card, stuffing them in envelopes, affixing postage, and taking them to the drop box. Come on … do people really do this?

Of course they do, cause they care. We care too, just … ehhh … less … or something.

As if I didn’t feel bad enough, I was surfing blogs today when I came across this one by Ivory Frog. These handmade cards are amazing. Now I really feel like crap.