I love winter in the PNW. I love the rain. Hence why I love winter in the PNW. I L.O.V.E. the holidays. All those warm, fuzzy good wishes, the food, Christmas tree smells, pumpkin pie, Christmas cookies, candles, and everyone stressed and hurried yet friendly and happy.
And I love nothing more than being able to spend the holidays with my family. Mostly because I just love hanging with them all but also partially because, well...you just never know when one of those 'Fenns' will do something crazy (I mean it's fairly predictable that one of them will do something so nutty that we'll remember it forever, but the fun is that you don't know who it will come from or what exactly it will be).
Take the Christmas of 2007 for example (and I know the year is correct because I have all my digital photos downloaded and organized by season and year...yup, I know, I even have sub-folders).
Our usual family Christmas agenda goes like this: Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa's with all the aunts and uncles and cousins and Christmas morning is breakfast at Grandpa and Grandma's before we all rush down the hill to my dad's house to have our 'little' family Christmas which means grab a seat and get ready to open stockings and gifts! Wrestling optional.
Well on this particular Christmas morning we were part-way through the gift opening when we looked out the window (big sliding glass door in the living room) and noticed that it was starting to snow. Snow might not be a big deal to many people but to us residents at 150 ft above sea level, it's cause to celebrate. And celebrate we did. Gifts were abandoned and we stood out between the house and the vineyard fields and did all the things you can do when it's barely dusting snow...like try to catch it on your tongue and pose for pictures.
Notice how you can't really see snow? Nevertheless it had snowed and was super cold so we were still excited.
And then, while we're all congratulating ourselves on a successful family picture, we suddenly notice Paddy bounding graceful as a deer towards the grape fields, faithful family dog nipping at his heels.
And oh yeah, he was wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
No drugs or alcohol were harmed in the making of this photo, this is just how crazy our family is. And we take pride in it.
So as dutiful siblings we rushed back inside and throughout the house and made sure all the windows and doors were locked--ongoing joke from childhood--and then waited for him to come back (and hoped Grandma and Grandpa didn't look out their window down the hill and deduce that the nearly-naked crazy guy in the vineyard was their grandson. Heck who am I kidding, they know.)
And here he was when he got back...freezing cold, high from his little jaunt, and still blissfully unaware all the doors are locked:
Yes we (eventually) let Paddy back in the house and yes he (eventually) put his clothes back on and yes (eventually) my dad stopped shaking his head and wondering where he went wrong and yes, we (eventually) opened the rest of our presents and enjoyed the rest of our Christmas.
Now as I look out my window and see frosty white rooftops and fog settling between naked tree branches I can't help but think it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas and wonder what's in store for us this year?
