Well, our white Christmas finally showed up around 4 p.m. yesterday.

Better than never, I suppose. But 0.04 inch is hardly for the dashing through in a one-horse open sleigh.

Ours was a modest celebration at El Rancho Pendejo. We broke fast with coffee, toast, oatmeal, and tea, went out for a short trail run, and lunched on leftover pasta with a mildly lively sauce of tomatoes, sausage, rosemary and olives.

Afterward, while I made the tee-hees here at the blog, Herself whipped up a giant cookie using a shortbread pan she scored from Goodwill. Background music was from The Chieftains, The Pogues, Mozart, Robert Earl Keen, Hozier, Tom Waits … you know, the usual holiday suspects.

Dinner was jambalaya with a green salad. Beverages included Guinness 0.0 and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

Gift-giving was restrained. I have this fine new MacBook Pro, and Herself has the green light for a getaway with a friend.

Gotta save our pennies for those tariffs, $50 cartons of eggs, and $20-per-gallon gas. Also, moreover, furthermore, and too, bribes for the guards at the camp. A fella can’t eat rat tartare three meals a day, y’know.