Sunday, December 26, 2004

England pictures, part 2

Today is my very first Boxing Day! Cheers!

Laura’s sister Becca holding up a chocolate bar she’s about to crumble for topping while I whip some cream for the dessert trifle. We’re very, very useful in the kitchen, contrary to anything Laura’s mother might tell you.

Making mulled wine with Laura and her brother. In case you have no idea what that is (I didn’t), mulled wine involves red wine, orange juice, water, brandy, and mulled wine spices, and chopped fruit. It’s really, really tasty.

I really, really miss having a cat. Laura’s cat is a little supermodel who loves having his picture taken. He does a different pose every time you take a picture, I swear. These few pictures are only the tip of iceberg with this little hussy.

Here is the beginning of my White Christmas! It snowed really hard for the rest of the day and part of the night, but since it gets dark at like 3:30 PM, it was hard to take pictures of Wetton at its snowiest.

The next day Laura and Becca and I went on a walk around the village, which I have been told is not even a village at all, but a hamlet, which is just a cluster of houses in the middle of nowhere. Wetton is fairly big for a hamlet, but it still only took 15 minutes to walk entirely around. We did take a little shortcut through the cemetery, though.

This is what Wetton looks like in the summer, or some other time when it isn’t dark and wet all the time. Laura sent me these photos before I came down here to give me some idea of what I was in for.

Apparently, Santa has a thing for girls with facial hair, because Laura and Becca both found fake moustache kits in their stockings this year. I snatched up the one labelled “The Sheriff” and Becca chose “The Weasel.” Laura’s kit only had moustache, but it did come with eyebrows, sideburns, and a “swingin’ soul patch,” so she’s saving hers for a special occasion, like a drag king convention.

This is an evil, evil, evil snowman creature that appeared in the house, but I don’t know who gave it to who or if it’s meant to strike fear into the deepest pits of your soul or if that’s just an unintended side effect. It has sharp, pointy feet at the end of long, thin legs, and if you squeeze it, the legs kick around and it sings a Christmas carol, which if I remember correctly is entitled “All I Want For Christmas Is To Kill You Horribly.” I can’t be the only one who thinks this sounds just a little bit sinister.


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