Games, food, laughter, food, music, food. Are you getting the theme for the night? New Year's Eve was spent with sissy and her family, and other sissy and my niece M., and Dad.
We're pretty simple people on New Year's Eve.
Buffalo Chicken dip.
Hmmm, 4:2 ratio sweet/savory. Is that wrong? Nope, I don't think so. I think it's just right, Goldilocks.
Sissy has wonderful backdrops in her house. Lots of little trees with lights.
P. and J. finally posed for a photo. The first one I took wasn't so pretty. P. had her face behind her hands, hiding from the camera. I threatened to put that one on facebook.
Then they behaved and smiled nicely for the camera.
And she's a photographer. Harrumph. She should know to smile sweetly when there's a camera around.
Aren't they beautiful?
More pretty little trees and pretty young ladies.
K. knows to smile sweetly for the camera.
M. is beginning to learn to smile sweetly for the camera. She's pretty shy so it's hard to coax a smile from her.
I told her mother, other sissy, to make her laugh. She told M. to imagine that her mother had tripped and fallen. That brought out a smile, or eight.
Trying a new idea I saw some other photographers use. Unfocused images.
I like it. You'll be seeing more of it in the upcoming days.
Life is starting to get back to normal, coming off the holiday festivities. It was a pretty great Christmas season so I'm sad to see it go. The decorations came down on New Year's day and the house is back in order. I hate taking-down-the-Christmas-ornaments day. The house seems darker, and emptier, and somehow a little bit sadder.
I always, always wonder how life will change before the ornaments go up next year. I wonder who will be with us, and who won't be, who will have moved away, who will be new friends, so many changes can happen. It's a little scary. But exciting, too.
By the way, I got a new calendar for Christmas. It's called "Forgotten English" and I love, love, love the first word of the year.
A hasty tidying of the house between the time you see a neighbor and the time she knocks on the door.
I scurryfunge all the time. Don't you?