Finally. Finally, it has happened. I can enter the 21st century properly, with a new digital camera firmly in tow. Which means the two people (counting me) who read this blog, won't have to wait 30 weeks for me to post pictures. Enjoy!
Mom's Christmas tree. It's the biggest treee I have ever seen in an actual house. It was the tree that ate Cleveland. 8 feet tall, at least.
The top of Mom's tree is a crown with ostrich feathers. It's modeled on the Regency Tree displayed in the lobby of the Williamsburg Inn. Nice, no? And she made it herself.
Since Amanda was the newcomer to our Christmas (and the youngest--by 4 weeks), we made her be Santa and pass out the gifts.
Bill and Mom on Christmas Day evening.
The next day, we went to my Grandmother's, and here is Bill and my Dad. Still not a Scottish Santa.
This is Lumpy. Lumpy is attacking my Stepmom. Or just trying to cuddle. Since Lumpy weighs 90 pounds, the difference is not always clear.
And here's my humble little Christmas tree. Which, sadly, has to come down this coming weekend. Boo.
Mom's Christmas tree. It's the biggest treee I have ever seen in an actual house. It was the tree that ate Cleveland. 8 feet tall, at least.
The top of Mom's tree is a crown with ostrich feathers. It's modeled on the Regency Tree displayed in the lobby of the Williamsburg Inn. Nice, no? And she made it herself.
Since Amanda was the newcomer to our Christmas (and the youngest--by 4 weeks), we made her be Santa and pass out the gifts.
Bill and Mom on Christmas Day evening.
The next day, we went to my Grandmother's, and here is Bill and my Dad. Still not a Scottish Santa.
This is Lumpy. Lumpy is attacking my Stepmom. Or just trying to cuddle. Since Lumpy weighs 90 pounds, the difference is not always clear.
And here's my humble little Christmas tree. Which, sadly, has to come down this coming weekend. Boo.
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