Merry Christmas

Wishing all our online friends Peace, Love and Joy at Christmas and all the year through.

Much love to all- Taren, Caelan and the Momma.

PS-To those not celebrating have a wonderful weekend!

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been a good boy this year. Nearly perfect. The best boy ever. Even better than my brod'r, and certainly better than those fluffies across the street.

Well, I did eat the momma's three cell phones. I couldn't help myself they were so shiny, and new. The last one was red, you like red.

Then there was that Direct TV remote, but they charged the daddy for a new one, and new is good. Aroooooo!

I did steal my momma's fancy memory foam pillow, and dragged it to the backyard, but she has lots of other pillows and this one was really funny shaped anyway.

Oh, and I did tear a big hole in the side of the chair, and ripped the trim off, but the momma has been wanting some new furniture, so I was only too glad to help, I loves the momma. I have been a good boy.

I am sorry I ate those two collars, that pair of sandals, all those books, measuring spoons, that briefcase and daddies glasses. The eye Dr said that happens a lot and he gots a new pair. I have been a good boy.

Then there were all those kitchen sponges. I really like the green ones, but the blue ones aren't half bad either. I really like to helps the momma in the kitchens. I like to help put the groceries away, like the time I took the brown sugar out behind the A/C, the French bread, and the cornbread too. I likes breads. Oh, and I like the toilet paper also. If you pull hard on it, it unwinds and unwinds. I like that game. Momma closes the door now, but I bring in big dirt clods from the backyard and chew it all ups on the carpet. That is almost as fun. I have been a good boy.

I really like to bark at the fluffies across the street, the fluffy down the street, and that cat behind our house. I like to do my part to keep the neighborhood safe. Momma says, the neighbors must just love me, and I know they do. Aroooooo! I have been a good boy.

I know I have been good Santa. Momma says I am the best speckled boy around. I snuggles with her at night and I keeps her warm. I helps her cook dinner every night, and I drag the dirty clothes downstairs to helps with the laundry. I really love daddies yummy smelling exercise clothes and I only hide the socks once in a while. I like to take out the garbage too, I eat what I can. Anything to helps the daddy.

I am a good brod'r too. I only steal Taren's suckies once in a while. Not near as much as I want to. I like those stupid cats too, I help them clean up their food everyday so they don't have to. I always plays tag with the black one, but he bites. He's bad, but I have been a good boy.

Please Santa would you brings me lots of new toys for me and my brod'r. A big bone too. Maybe something for the stoo-pits. They are not smart, and they meow a lot, but they are fun to chase. I loves to eat them. I loves them.

I have been a good boy!

xoxoxoxox Caelan

O' Christmas Tree

Taren Looks Out Window

Ahhhhh....Christmas. The time of year where a great many of us indulge in the yearly ritual of trimming the tree. Insert Grinch-masy sigh. Every year soon after Christmas I lovingly take the tree down, and store all the keepsakes in their proper places. I remove the twinkle lights, coiling them carefully in individual bags. I nestle them protectively on top of one another, and close the lid of the giant plastic container, specifically chosen for this purpose. I then stow them away underneath the stairs in a climatically inclined storage room to await the following year. Upon which I wrestle the ridiculously enormous container back out, and prepare for another exercise in futility.

Here is what I want to know, how come all these lights worked when I placed them in the bags, yet a mere 12 months later a third refuse to do their job? I have finally gotten smart. I plug them all in BEFORE I put them on the tree. That cuts down my aggravation by a full 50%. Some years they light but do not twinkle. Fine, I slap them up anyway. I can deal. Only to find that now not only do they not twinkle, they do not light at all. Not to be outdone by what I am sure is a Wal-mart conspiracy to get you to buy more lights, and Christmas Ho Ho's to soothe your frazzled soul, I just slap some more lights over the top of their non working brethren. I refuse to take those soul killers down. I stand and admire my handy work of carefully wound and spaced lights. Ignoring the hazard label warning against too many extension cords. I like to live dangerously. I plug them in and the miracle of Christmas has arrived. The tree shines and twinkles. All except the strand right in the middle. *sob* This year, I am whipping those lights off, cramming them in card board, and shoving them into some spider laden corner of the garage. Now who's the boss?

This year I decided to move the tree out from the large window as it blocks the heat vent. That was short lived as the pups decided a rousing game of keep away around the tree was in order. Have you ever tried to move a fully decorated, ten ton tree? I finally put my feet at the base of the stand and shoved. Hoping for the best. That really got their attention as things fell and bounced off the carpet. The first of many pine cones met their demise. I put the nice glass ornaments on the top portion, I had bought plastic ones for the bottom. I know these dogs. It was all good for about three days. I sternly said- leave it, and they left it. Right up and until no one was looking. I would come downstairs to see the occasional pine cone crushed on the carpet, where Taren would have the good grace to at least look guilty. Then I began hearing the unmistakable sound of plastic being scrunched and I would walk down to see my Christmas Wubba with a crushed ball in his mouth surrounded by a big doggy grin. He, however, does not look guilty in the slightest. In fact looks quite pleased with himself. I tell him to drop it, he does. I put it back on the tree, all teeth marks and dents. It's their portion of the tree, crush all the balls you want. Up on my eye level, I can hear a chorus of angels sing from the sheer loveliness, and so goes the great tree debacle of 2010.