I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my. . . toes!

Some leading-up-to-Christmas highlights: 1. Over Thanksgiving, my brother and I accomplished a Thurber family first: putting up Christmas lights outside. He helped me with my fear of heights and I helped him figure out the light contraptions ("Are we supposed to screw these in?!" "No, they should just snap on." "Snap on how?!" "Just wedge them between the shingles, that'll do" "That looks ghetto" "We are ghetto"). We did figure it out eventually, survived the panic over what to do about the chimney, and were the most festive house on the block. 2. Aren't we great? I think so. Family photos, however, are a miserable thing, at least in my family. This is how it goes, every time: First, we have to delay something fun (opening presents, going to bed, cleaning our bedrooms) to take pictures. Then we position ourselves, taking into account our different heights, genders, and outfit colors. Then we do it all over again, remembering that we have to fit Dad in, too. Dad presses the button, scampers into the picture, and we all discuss whether or not the timer is working. Either it doesn't, and we all sit there forever, or it does, and we have a lovely picture of our discussion. So we try again. Then we have problems with the sibling-whose-name-will-remain-anonymous who won't smile properly. Or even make a normal face. After a few shots, we all crowd around the camera and critique. We repeat the whole thing a few more times. It's tortuous. Finally, he-who-must-not-be-named gets a sort of shocked look on his face that looks a little bit normal. We call it good, even though I secretly bewail the fact that the most acceptable overall family picture is my least favorite of myself. However, I think our endeavor turned out rather nicely this year. We took these over Thanksgiving. We're a good-looking bunch.

3. I found this picture of me in all the christmas morning mess from last year. I like it.