I’ll apologize now for the sketchy posts–and tell you that my holiday writing schedule will be next to non-existent. Story-time will recommence on a more regular schedule the week after Christmas, my pretties.
We’re off to Atlanta for a few days before the big day. E-spouse to do his thang with the CDC; the kids and me to visit with family and friends. I’ll see dear cousin and resident smartass, Quincey, at our huge Family Christmas Party, and he and I can compare notes on how many family members we’ve managed to offend this year.
I’ve decided on the final seven of the B4B entries. I imagine Joshilyn will get the finalists up on her bloggy today or tomorrow. Thanks, again, for sharing your tales. I loved them all. But this is a contest. And I’m ruthless. Which doesn’t mean I don’t adore each and every one of you.
A quickie story: My son’s nursery school class wrote letters to Santa. And “Santa” wrote back. When he came home from school waving his note from the chubby bearded one, my girl was jealous. I said to her: “Why don’t you write a letter to Santa.” She: “I already have, Mom.” Me: “You have?” She: “Yes. I put it on the mantel three days ago.” Dumbfounded me: “Well, maybe we should put a stamp on it and mail it.” She, pouting: “Okay. But Santa should know I left it on the mantel for him.”
Unfortunately, Santa does not know everything.
Wishes to all of you for a joyous holiday season, regardless of which holiday you may or may not be celebrating. And happy solstice. I’ll be in and out.
UPDATE: The B4B finalists are up! Congrats.
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*happy dance*
No guest bloggers lined up, EM? What are we supposed to do? Won’t you even have time to give us a couple of updates on Libs and Woze’s holiday shoes? Or paint us a picture of Quincey and his party date? Nothing? Damn.
Yes, EM, you can’t just leave us and not have a backup plan. You KNOW we will probably have to log on here and blog for you… it is just too irresistable!
Merry Chrismahanakwanzakuh!
I didn’t say NO posts, just fewer than usual.
Thanks for missing me already, guys. Oh shoot, both of you have my passwords, don’t you? Be sweet…
omg.
Ok just a thought. I’m not HAPPY you’re making fewer posts. I’m happy I got in the top seven and that you are getting to go on a trip to see family.
Happy Holidays in Atlanta EM; I agree with Ash that we must have some news about Libs, Woze and Quincy.
Tell your Mom we apologize if we offend. We don’t try to be bad it just kinda happens sometimes.
Did I mention Mom?
EM, No you didn’t. This is my annual blanket amends decloration and actually should be extended to all your close followers here at the Edge.
The Edge. I like that. You know, the Edge is U2’s guitarist. EM, you related?
That reminds me of when my daughter had a tooth fall out at a restaurant, and we accidentally left the tooth there. She then forgot all about it that night, but sometime the next day she started crying that there was no way the tooth fairy would visit her now (and she hadn’t the night before…so there was the evidence).
I replied quickly that perhaps she needed to write a note to the tooth fairy letting her know what restaurant it was left at and then she’d know to get the tooth yet leave the dollar at our place. Whew. That worked. I placed a dollar on my bed the second she went to her room that night so I’d not forget to put it where it needed to be before morning…
Just so long as we don’t go over the edge and put Mama on edge. That way we will keep a fine edge….
Also, there is the ‘edge of dark’ colloquialism I discovered in the mountains of Virginia. Not to be confused with the ‘Edge of Night” soap.
On the edge.
On edge.
(blank) has an edge.
Next to the edge.
Nice edge.
Wish I had an edge.
Okay! I’m bored with it too!