A Plate Full of Christmas Goodies

Word of the Day

Eleventy - Hypothetical number used by those in the two-to-seven age range as a means of impressing parents or siblings with a new found skill.

Christmas Calendar Door #22

#1 Son and I delivered some of the Christmas goodies to some friends of ours. We met them for breakfast at Village Inn. Yucko on the Village Inn part. Their food did not impress me. Wonderful having breakfast with friends.

After we got back home, #1 Son practiced the music that he'll be playing tomorrow and Christmas Eve. Me? I vacated the house. #1 Son told me that he refused to practice with me here. Self-conscious.

Me? I went out and bought the liquor that I needed in order to make Arancello. Do you know how hard it is to find Everclear here? I found one bottle of it. Someone else must be making liqueur. Oh well...I already had a bottle sitting in my liquor cabinet so, along with a couple bottles of vodka, I had the ingredients to make two batches of Arancello. At least, start to make Arancello. It takes a few months of steeping to actually end up with something that you might be able to drink. The older this stuff is...the better. I just "started" making the Arancello. All you need is the zest of the oranges. Waste not want not, I juiced the 30 oranges that I peeled. There is 3 1/2 quarts of orange juice cooling in my fridge. It'll taste wonderful with breakfast in the coming days. I still have 15 more oranges. #1 Son agreed to look for more Everclear for me while he's out with his friend today. I told him to pick up two more bottles if he can find it. Enough for one more batch of Arancello and a single batch of Tangecello. Vodka? That I could find in abundance.

I'm making a ham for supper. It was too good a deal at the store to pass up. Besides, with #1 Son home, the ham will be good to have for sandwiches for lunch.

Murphyism of the Day

De Nevers's Law of Debate

Two monologues do not make a dialogue.

Noteworthy Quote of the Day

I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street.

- Virginia Woolf (1882 - 1941)