A week away from Christmas and posting is getting sketchy. I’m looking at the last image of Harley on my Harley-Davidson wall calendar for 2008. It’s a FLHX Street Glide, and it’s pretty sweet. All that chrome.

The last tinsel went on the alien tree yesterday. And when I say tinsel, I mean this:

I cannot tell a lie. Lee Valley. Yes, it is. I heart it, Mr. G, honey.

I wrote my first Christmas card after midnight this morning. Just call me a Christmas card slacker. I have done this much baking — 0.

I was watching the first four episodes of Top Chef on video tape — yes, video tape, this week and am rethinking my Christmas menu. Why go traditional, when what I really pine to do is make my own — from scratch — hot dog. And maybe a banana s’more, but oozing in chocolate. This has become my favorite reality TV show. A best ever friend has been taping and sending it to me, so I’m a little behind the season. Don’t tell me!

Have you ever veered from the traditional fare for Christmas? Recognizing that traditional is different in our diverse cultures, what did you prepare that would have been different for you? I confess, I’ve done this more than a little. And, yes, one year we did actually have a hot dog. It was right before tech baby’s 2nd birthday, and we were shattered from all the pre-Christmas work and festivities. We weren’t traveling, and we weren’t hosting, so we stayed in our jammies all day — looking like we’d just been rolled by a lawn roller — played with our kidlet and ate a tasty frank. Scratch another year off my life.

It snowed those beautiful glitter-snowflakes last night, about six inches of them, which made Gracie Allen and I dance with glee. Gracie, because she is a snow dog. Me, because I knew I wasn’t going to be putting a toe outside the patio door this morning.

First morning tracks in the snow.

More early morning snow tracks.

Early morning tracker saying, "Please to come in now."

Did I mention it was early?

Elen