![Holiday Memory Lane: Christmas in the Tropics edition
We’re doing things a little different this Christmas. The last few years, the five of us have spent the Christmas holiday with Mom’s family in south Florida. Where the average December temperatures range between 77 and 10,000 degrees. And I sweat my ass off in a wool sweater just to spite our proximity to the equator.
My aunt Linda and uncle Tom [who’s responsible for my nickname and the name of this blog] live there half the year. So do my cousin Ashley and her husband Mike. Other cousins and kin folk join us from near and far. After we spend our time nagging the hell out of each other, in an incredibly loving, spirited and festive way, we watch/ quote Christmas Vacation ad nauseum, discuss the personal and professional life choices of everyone we know and some we don’t, then booze it up at Ashley and Mike’s Christmas Eve party and finally bring the holiday to a close with Christmas Day lunch at the club (worthy of some sort of food trophy). In between, we eat and drink until our blood sugar reaches 500 and our clothes don’t fit.
Honest to god, it’s my favorite thing in the world to spend time with these people. My people. My favorite people.
Each year is a new adventure, but along the way we’ve created new traditions and learned a few things about each other:
My father has an affinity for wearing Christmas lights around his neck
My cousin Mike can dance a jig like a man half his age
All female family members carry the gene required to become completely anxiety-ridden over food preparations
Uncle Tom will never stop trying to rally everyone into a night swim in the Gulf to see the mystical phosphorus
My pre-teen cousin Matt is extremely gifted in the art of mixing pomegranate martinis
My father cannot be stopped when he climbs into the bay to fish in his waders at 10:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve
When we woke up in Atlanta this morning, I couldn’t help but think, “My god, it’s cold here.” Then I realized where I was. And I put on my wool sweater.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Sincerely,
Sally B](http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kv6fpwBZ2j1qa44x0o1_500.jpg)
Holiday Memory Lane: Christmas in the Tropics edition
We’re doing things a little different this Christmas. The last few years, the five of us have spent the Christmas holiday with Mom’s family in south Florida. Where the average December temperatures range between 77 and 10,000 degrees. And I sweat my ass off in a wool sweater just to spite our proximity to the equator.
My aunt Linda and uncle Tom [who’s responsible for my nickname and the name of this blog] live there half the year. So do my cousin Ashley and her husband Mike. Other cousins and kin folk join us from near and far. After we spend our time nagging the hell out of each other, in an incredibly loving, spirited and festive way, we watch/ quote Christmas Vacation ad nauseum, discuss the personal and professional life choices of everyone we know and some we don’t, then booze it up at Ashley and Mike’s Christmas Eve party and finally bring the holiday to a close with Christmas Day lunch at the club (worthy of some sort of food trophy). In between, we eat and drink until our blood sugar reaches 500 and our clothes don’t fit.
Honest to god, it’s my favorite thing in the world to spend time with these people. My people. My favorite people.
Each year is a new adventure, but along the way we’ve created new traditions and learned a few things about each other:
- My father has an affinity for wearing Christmas lights around his neck
- My cousin Mike can dance a jig like a man half his age
- All female family members carry the gene required to become completely anxiety-ridden over food preparations
- Uncle Tom will never stop trying to rally everyone into a night swim in the Gulf to see the mystical phosphorus
- My pre-teen cousin Matt is extremely gifted in the art of mixing pomegranate martinis
- My father cannot be stopped when he climbs into the bay to fish in his waders at 10:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve
When we woke up in Atlanta this morning, I couldn’t help but think, “My god, it’s cold here.” Then I realized where I was. And I put on my wool sweater.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Sincerely,
Sally B
