Honourable duties

There are very few things in this life to which, when asked, you simply cannot say no.  All you can do is nod and ask where and when you need to show up.  This is one of those things:

Yeah - that's me.  When the director of the local BIA called me up and explained that they needed someone for what will become the Annual Pancake Breakfast with Santa, well, how do you say "no" to that?

It was just a couple of hours in an ill-fitting red suit with a scratchy synthetic beard and it was one of the most rewarding things I've done in a long time.  I highly recommend it.

If you look closely, I swear you can see a twinkle about the eyes.

On the same morning I snapped a couple of pictures of our Heritage Committee's little park covered with a blanket of snow.

After playing Santa, it was time for this to go away:

Yes - the beard that began as three day's growth for Really Raggedy Andy is now gone - but that didn't mean we couldn't have some fun along the way...

Here we are with goatee and massive sideburns.  I came down and asked the family what they thought.  The two little ladies didn't like this look at all.  The boy, however, loved it.

So - I went upstairs and tried again.  "How about this?" I asked.
"No way!" said my daughter.
"Too Amish." said my wife.
"Awesome!" said my son, who really didn't want me to shave the beard at all.

My final attempt arrived downstairs to an almost uniform reaction of, "Hey, that's kind of cool."

The last bastion of facial hair - the soul patch, though to be fair, this patch was a little more soulful than most.  The only problem was I didn't really like it.  I mean, hey - I'm 42 years old - I'm way too old for a soul patch.  

So I shaved it off.  Then I went outside and built this with the kids:

Too old for a soul patch?  Maybe.

Too old to build Snowmen?  Never!

It's starting to look a lot like...

Christmastime.

One day you're remembering your nation's war heroes and the next the man in the red suit is getting set to squirm down your chimney.   I looked at the calendar and sure enough, it's only eighteen days 'til the big event.  The kids are right - it is time to decorate.

Last night we cleared a spot and hauled the tree up from the basement.  Now. the whole tree decorating thing has never been a big thrill for me, but when I see the kids actually cooperating toward a shared goal - well, you've just got to love that.

So the tree is up and, weather permitting, I imagine the outdoor lights might be going up tonight.





There was also a birthday around here and it was one that we almost missed.

That's right - the lovely Willow is now eight years old.  The kids insisted we do it right and get her treats and a new toy.  Unlike this particular picture, she was thrilled with her birthday gifts.

This weekend my wife and I attended a murder mystery dinner party hosted by our local BIA.  It was well-attended with local merchants, restaurateurs and even a local council member and the township's mayor.  I am glad to report that I neither murdered nor was murdered through the course of the evening.  My wife cannot make the same claim.

I know that I promised some pictures of our new, used car, but the safety discovered some invisible issues that are being dealt with.  I should get the car back today and pictures will follow.

I need to get back to writing so I'll leave you with this picture.

And yes, that is the beard.