Christmas Card-Worthy

The snow in Wisconsin is nearly Christmas card-worthy. Notice I said nearly. What with the rain and the sun, it has melted into a slightly sub-par dollar store card version. It's still ten times prettier than the snow in New York City.
I have finally returned to the city, after a 14 hour journey back here. It was remarkably uneventful. We got home at 3 am and fell asleep so fast I woke up later to find all the blankets still on the floor from when we left six days ago.
I got such excellent presents this year and I hope the ones I gave were as good. Particularly wonderful--a blue suede blazer from my mom, a cooking class from Joe and all the CDs I got from various people. I ate until I was sick (I can still feel the sugar hardening my veins) and visited with my ever-slowing, slightly demented (not because they're old, they've always been that way) grandparents. Joe and I stayed in the little cabin a few nights. The first night we built a fire. It was wonderful--once we finally got it started. It took a half hour, a stack of newpaper and one small burn on my wrist before it would burn on it's own. Then we dragged the loveseat over in front of the fireplace and wrapped up in a blanket to watch.
And for the first time, Joe got to participate in the greatest Christmas tradition of all: playing Royale Rummy. Yes, my family gambles, but only on Christmas Eve. We deal dummy hands, stack pennies, yell at each other when we're too slow, and cackle over our loved ones loss of cash. I made 20 cents this year. Sweet.