Thursday, January 08, 2009

Scenes from a Tifton Christmas

Here is a brief moment from our recent trip to Tifton during the Christmas vacation.



Don't be fooled by the things I say in the video. You can be sure that I am always in favor of travelling to Georgia for Christmas--even though we do have a very strong predilection for getting ill while we are there. (It's an unfortunate conjunction of winter weather, small children, and gathering lots of people together in a shared location. I guess if we were anti-social, it might not be a problem.)

One of the nice things about taking two weeks off is that we can get home before the rest of the families arrive and we have some one-on-one time with Mom and Dad.

As you can see, we congregate in the kitchen--as everyone tends to do during the holidays. I was barely maintaining my weight (certainly not successfully losing any) during December. But going home to Mom's cooking, and the fudge, and the cookies, and the coconut cream cake, and the pecan pie, just pushed me back over.

*****

Here's an example of how having the ability to do something doesn't mean you should do something:

I was downstairs in the basement Wednesday night before dinner, transferring some clothes from the washer to the dryer. Simultaneously, Sarah was dumping some clothes from the second floor down through our laundry chute to land in the waiting basket beside me.

As the clothes landed with a thump, I thought "Hey, wouldn't it make a cool video if I could somehow drop the camera (running in video mode) from the chute entry in the second floor hallway down through the pantry closet on the main floor and out the chute in the basket in the basement?"

Now, assuming that you'd see anything at all besides darkness on this journey, it would surely blast the camera (which is only a month old) into a million little pieces. So, that's a stupid thought to begin with.

But I've always been fascinated by these sorts of chutes, ever since I first saw one (the only one I had ever seen) at my aunt's house in Kentucky. Being from south Georgia, where no one has a basement, we never needed one.

It just seemed cool.

And now I have one.

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