Christmas Eve wrap-up

Happy Christmas Eve, all ... it's been a tough time around here on the Lockett homestead for me lately, what with all the resting and relaxing and eating and drinking ... I've had to pace myself. Tonight we had our Christmas Eve dinner of roast beef and yorkshire pudding, so I'm trying to type through a food & wine stupor that would stun a team of oxen in their tracks. But I soldier on, because I'm just that much of a trouper.

Yesterday evening we had my Dad's family over. And what do you think was the focus of everyone's attention? I'll give you a hint: she isn't quite 18 months old, she likes throwing potatoes on the kitchen floor, and she's already a Leafs fan:


The last time I saw Morgan, at Thanksgiving, she was just starting to walk. She has in the interim learned to run. A few interesting facts about my beautiful niece:

(1) She recognizes herself in photos, and when asked who that little girl is will point to herself.
(2) She can make animal sounds for cats, dogs, mice, lions, sheep and owls.
(3) She can imitate the mannerisms of penguins, beavers and rabbits.
(4) When asked "What does M-O-R-G-A-N spell?" She points to herself. When asked what any combination of letters spell, she still points to herself.
(5) She likes to dance, which at the moment consists of bouncing unsteadily up and down and occasionally falling.
(6) She laughs and laughs and laughs. Unfortunately this picture is slightly blurry, but you get the idea:


When she spotted our log Rudolph on the deck, it held her fascination for a full five minutes:



Oh, and there were other people here yesterday too. Watching Morgan in rapt fascination here are, from left to right, my Aunt Rose, Uncle Mike and Aunt Carolyn.


Here are my cousin Lauren, Aunt Theresa and Aunt Rose.


Lauren and her dad, my Uncle Ron.


Lauren, who I'm pretty sure was Morgan's age about three weeks ago, just finished her first semester at Western. So: to my UWO people, heads up! If you see Lauren around, say hi and give her food. In three months, you can also give her beer.

In other news, the Dickens megalopolis suffered this year from congestion issues when my parents' installation of a gas fireplace in the living room forced my father to shorten the table on which the Victorian urban space resides. Though this did curtail some of its incipient suburban sprawl and rejuvenated the downtown businesses.


And just a half hour ago we carted down all the presents from upstairs to put under the tree.


So on the night before Christmas, I wish everyone the best of the season. May your stockings tomorrow be full of exceptionally cool stuff. Slainte!