Home for the Holidays

Here I am, snug as a bug in a rug at the home of my Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dale in Sacramento. Those two snowbirds are at their winter quarters in Yuma, and Yvette is housesitting for them until they return in the spring. While I'm here as a guest during my holiday break, I feel so at home. I spent lots of time here as a kid, so it's nearly as familiar to me as my own parents' house. 

The flight here last Wednesday was fairly uneventful--only marred by an hour delay in Salt Lake City because of snow. I now know what de-icing entails. But I managed to comfort myself. 

I had instructed my babies to pick me up at the airport--inside at the escalator. After this first visit, they can pick me up at the curb. But, for the first visit home, I wanted a traditional greeting. As it turned out, their welcome was anything but traditional. As I looked down for them from the top of the escalator, I saw Maddie, Heidi, and Randi standing together, obviously hiding something behind them. That something would not remain hidden. IT WAS PENNY!!!  Yes, my beloved dingo awaited my arrival inside the airport. Penny and I had such a joyous reunion that I totally forgot to cry and hug my babies!!

Then I remembered and embarrassed the two of them with giant embraces at the baggage claim. Then, of course, I had to buy them food. Nothing much had changed since August. 

The next day, the first thing on the agenda was lunch with the Princess. OMG, it was so wonderful to be sitting opposite her, each of us talking a mile a minute and eating breakfast foods for lunch. I followed my lunch with her with an afternoon at my parents' house, catching them up on all the Knoxville news that I hadn't already shared in dozens of phone calls since I left Sacramento. And, of course, I stayed to beat them both at Jeopardy (in spite of the ridiculous rule that I have to wait until Alex reads the entire answer before I can shout out the correct question). Then it was home to Aunt Sandy's and off to Mexican food (much missed by me in Knoxville) with Yvette. 

Next on my overstuffed agenda was a new family tradition, begun this year by my innocent and naive youngest daughter. Dirty cookie decorating!  With Maddie and Randi, their friend Mia, Heidi's friend Stephanie, and hostess Heidi herself, I helped decorate a variety of X-rated cookies. A little moonshine made it all a little more fun. 

The weekend belonged to Janelle and her fifth annual holiday skating show at Iceland. She tried something a little different this year, with Act 1 consisting of an ice version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was adorable!  The shows were not without their troubles, though. Wiring problems on Saturday night meant that I, as announcer, had to speak to the audience with my loud-ass voice until the problem was resolved. And Sunday night's show was put on in the rain. My legs were drenched, and Heather, my partner in crime at Janelle's shows, ran the music from underneath a tarp. But the skaters were real troopers--as were the audience members. 

On Monday, I had nothing scheduled until Yvette got off work and we could go shopping. And it was a good thing I didn't. One interesting thing about my aunt and uncle's house is its formidable security system. Alarm, double locks, and more!  On my first night in the house, Yvette gave me a quick introduction to the security measures, including warning me that the interior garage door would lock if you didn't either prop it open or remember to turn the lock. Ummmm. Yeah, that didn't occur to me when I went to the garage to do some laundry. The door shut behind me, and I didn't think anything of it. Until I tried to go back in the house. No dice. And no phone. And no bra on. No shoes, slippers, or even socks. No way back into the house. 

At first I tried to MacGuyver my way back in. Yeah, that didn't work. The place is a damned fortress. I could have hopped the gate at the driveway, but I had no desire to appear to one of the neighbors as a crazy shoeless woman with jiggling boobs. So, I MacGuyvered some mop bottom things into make-shift slippers. I used the dryer to warm my clothes up. The iron served as a mini-spaceheater for my feet.  I located some little bottles of Cook's in a cupboard so I knew I wouldn't go thirsty. Then, I spied a blanket. And I knew what I had to do. 

Under a gray car cover in the garage is my uncle's pride and joy, a gorgeous 1931 Model A. It looked especially appealing to a gal who was contemplating another six hours in the garage. Under the cover I went. Wrapping myself in the blanket, with the mop bottoms on my feet, I stretched out in the front seat. While I'm not especially tall, I did have to put my feet out the window to stretch my legs. 

Nervous about being alone with my own thoughts, I nevertheless made the most of my off-the-grid time. I thought about how I would have approached my textbook paper differently, imagined a trashy romance, and, best of all dozed. 

The sound of the garage opening woke me. Yvette carefully pulled her car in, and I tried not to scare her. So I stayed in the car and just lifted the cover to look out the window. If I live to be 100, I will never forget the look on poor Yvette's face. Astonishment, terror, confusion--it was all there. And I couldn't help it.  I had to laugh because the whole thing was so damned funny. 

Sadly, Yvette seems to be permanently traumatized by MY misadventure. But I found out I could be quiet with my own thoughts and not go insane from the experience.  And, damn, I love that Model A. I would have had a total Ferris Bueller joy ride had it been possible. But I didn't, Uncle Dale, and your baby suffered no harm. What a fabulous car!!

So, I quickly recovered. Today was G-rated cookie day. Well, maybe PG-13. 

The best cookie of the day was my rendition of the Tennessee state flag....

So, that's my vacation so far. Tomorrow is more family time, more Princess time, and more shopping. 

And now I'm going back to the trashy romance I'm reading--although it's not nearly as good as the one I imagined in my head yesterday as I lay wrapped in a blanket in a 1931 Model A with my feet out the window.