Promised Picture

Thanks to my sister, here are most of the cousins (that's Taylor in my hat, by the way).

Cousin's Christmas

Today we trekked up to Fort Worth for the annual Cousin's Christmas. That's the current form of my family's Christmas gathering - an evolution from the immediate family gathered at Mom and Pop's in Breckenridge, then in later years as we outgrew that little house, Christmas at the Lake Cabin. Then, when Mom and Pops moved to Fort Worth, it made more sense to gather there, and so we do. My brother had the good idea to invite the cousins of the clan; certainly those that live in the area, so it has become the Cousin's Christmas.

Like most family get-togethers, this one centers on food and fellowship. There's a modest effort at bringing ohhh! and ahhh! dishes; then there's the fun of meeting the new babies and the new fiancés, seeing the nieces and nephews growing up and growing hair, hearing about the new job (or the new retirement) and just being with your own kin. After we stuff ourselves silly, we play a version of the White Elephant gift exchange. There's a theme to the gifts (though some themes don't work as well as others) and we enjoy the creativity of the gift-givers, and often the gift-getters. Remember, there's a box of watch band calenders out there somewhere (Barbara thinks we ought to write them into our will just to be sure).

There's only one problem with the Cousin's Christmas. It costs 7 hours in the car to enjoy. I know, I know, we could break that trip up by staying over. Someday. Today was a real adventure because coming home the wind was gusting to 30 mph and it was pushing the Highlander all over the road. I felt for the truckers and people in little bitty cars!

I'll post some pictures if some of my relatives will e-mail me some (hint hint). We didn't think to take the camera, so I guess I'm still learning the blogging business. Watch this space.

Santa Hat Adventures

It was cold and drizzly today, so I wore my Santa Hat when I went to read. I got the expected comments, "Nice Hat!", "Hello, Santa", "Ho, ho ho", etc. That's nice.

The weather was even more miserable when it was time to go to Chuy's for supper, so I stuck the hat back on and wore it into the restaurant. Saw lots of smiles and got lots of looks, so I achieved the desired effect as we passed through the place to get to our table. Just got seated, and heard,

"Hello, Santa!"

from a wide-eyed little girl who looked to be about four. A believing, wide eyed little girl!

Uh Oh.

I hadn't considered running into small children when I plopped the hat on my head. Believing, wide-eyed small children. I may wear the hat, and project the image, but I'm really not ready to be Santa.

I turned to the little girl and said hello, saying fervently to myself, "Please, please, little girl. Don't hop out of your chair and come over here! I'm not really Santa, little girl. I'm not even a good helper, Okay?"

She didn't get up, but she continued to stare wide-eyed. So I did the only thing I could do. I took off the hat.

Okay. I chickened out. But you are not supposed to wear hats indoors, and the hat was hot, and... I chickened out.

Obviously, I'm going to have to give this looking like Santa some more thought.

Retired in Full

Back in March, I "retired" as a full time employee and became a part-time contractor - which meant I was also a part-time retiree. I mentioned then that I thought that available work in my specialty was going the way of the Dodos, and that by the end of the year it would dry up altogether. Hey, I'm pretty good at this forecasting stuff; here it is December and I'm pretty much done (there's a possibility of some work for a new customer, but I give it only about a 20% chance of actually happening).

So. If I'm no longer getting paid for contracting, I'm going to have to turn to the retirement account and actually start drawing from the funds I have been stashing away all this time. That's scary to me. I've read all the literature and know the prevailing wisdom about taking only 4 or 5 percent of the funds and that theoretically allows it to continue growing and we don't come knocking on our children's doors in 10 years. Did I just sense a sharpened interest in this blog?

But there's just something about actually saying, "Okay, let's start taking money out..." when all your life (well, at least the latter years) you have been diligently trying to put money in.

We had the meeting yesterday. Neile, Keeper of All Things Financial, assured us that it should be at least 12 years before we come knocking at the door, and maybe even longer if we actually enjoy dog food, so I guess it was a good meeting. And now I am retired in full.

My next blog will be about all the new and exciting things my wife has planned for me. Most of them occurring away from the house, interestingly enough.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

It’s becoming pretty obvious. I catch more and more small children looking at me with a great deal of interest these days. I think it’s the beard and the belly. You know, like the waitress at the café in Salado who said, “Hon, with your beard and your belly you can play Santa Claus!” I won’t tell you what I told her about her tip! But she’s right. Every time we are out somewhere, I catch some wide-eyed child really checking me out.

Even Grace. Mom was reading her a Christmas book when were up there and the last page had a picture of the jolly gent himself. Grace looked at the picture, then she looked up at me; she looked back at the picture and then she pointed at me!

I have even begun going “Ho, Ho, Ho” to some of the kids. Sometimes I want to say “I’m keeping a list – and you’re on it!” The other day in Central Market a kid was really acting up – so much so that other store patrons around him were commenting about his behavior. I really wanted to go up to the kid, point at my beard and say, “Do you know who I am? Do you know that I check up on naughty children?” But judging from the mom’s yuppie attire (and lack of restraint of her bratty kid) she probably would have sued me for perpetuating a myth and traumatizing her little dear.

The other day a friend called and asked me if I wanted a gig playing Santa at a bank opening – two six-hour Saturdays dandling kiddos in a hot Santa suit. I was so sorry that we were going to be in Fort Worth one Saturday and anywhere else I could think of the next.

P.S. Mom just came in from shopping with... a Santa Hat for me. Anybody got a red suit?