Snow Lost, Puddles Gained, and a Scot

I love Christmas. I love the decorations. I love the trees (as you probably already discovered). I love the presents (most especially the finding of perfect presents to give people). I love the vacation time. I love the family time.

I'll be honest. I did NOT love loading my car and driving away during my first Christmas day snow at my home in my entire life to drive for 3 hours to central Alabama where it was merely cold and raining. Even my love for spending Christmas day with my parents, Munner, aunts, uncles, and multitude of cousins just BARELY overcame my desire to enjoy my first White Christmas (excluding our honeymoon in NYC which happened to be Christmas, as the hubs reminds me each time I make this statement). It didn't help that less than half of my large family made it to my grandmother's that night, so even though I left 4 inches in my yard and drove through a driving snow (or rather Drew did), I only got to see a small portion of my enormous, boisterous family. (Though I assure you I thoroughly enjoyed my visit with those that were there.)

Then there's the Scot... from Alabama. My cousin (second cousin, to be precise) Jake, who was born in Alabama, alumned at the University of Alabama, and Seminaried (yes, I know this isn't really a word) in Birmingham, is now officially a Scot - delightfully so. We were great friends as children and occassional friends as teenagers and through college. We decided the last time we saw each other was at his wedding (8 years ago). He's now been living in Scotland with his lovely wife, Chris, for almost 6 years. He was in town for the holidays, so we got together for a visit.

He's enjoying himself. He's become a doctor (PhD, that is... in Theology, none the less). But his most important accomplishment? He's developed a lovely Scoh-ish accent. I think we'd all agree his perceived intellect at least doubled with this development. Even I, an open grammar freak, found myself watching my sentence formation and Southern twang as we talked. :) (What is it about an accent from England, Ireland, or Scotland that makes one seem so much more intelligent than the rest of us?!?) I've decided I'm taking my 2 year old and we're moving in with them for a while so she and I can both develop a bit of that brilliance that comes with the accent.

It's an important goal of mine.

I kid... sort of.

(In brutal honesty, when I was pregnant, I told Drew that I wanted to take dialect classes to learn a British accent just so our child would speak with one because I think little ones who sound like Brits are delightful.)

All this to say Christmas is being enjoyed thoroughly by the Bowers family. We do it the whole week after Christmas (since we have so many cities to hit and don't get to start until Christmas day). I'll try to blog at least sporadically while we celebrate.

Oh, and Jake, I know you say you feel like an outsider on my blog and are, thus, disinclined to comment (see how much my vocabulary improves when speaking to the Scot?!?). You have now officially been introduced to my small audience. You've earned your membership card. Join the club. :)

Love, Shipoopies, & Merry Christmas,
Leslie