A Cornelius Christmas

Matt and I slid our way into the farm's driveway on Tuesday afternoon. The roads from Seattle were clear--even some areas boasted dry pavement--until we got to about 185th on the Sunset Highway. Then it got dicey. And no wonder, I heard a rumor that Washington County has only 4 snowplows, and Hillsboro has but 1. Cornelius 0. The Sunset looked as though they'd plowed and sanded the right hand lane, but not the left. So there was roughly a 5" packed snow shelf to get into the left hand lane. Which we had to do several times b/c people here drive 2 MILES AN HOUR. When we got off the highway, it got really sketchy. Glencoe Rd off of the North Plains exit was a sheet of packed snow and ice--and it had its share of ballsy (or stupid) semi-truck drivers on it.


Dad shovels snow off the deck

The further west we drove, the worse the conditions became. We were doing about 11 mph when we finally pulled into the farm, which was blanketed in 13" of snow. I have never seen such snow volume in my lifetime, and my Dad has but once. In 1968. A normally 3 1/2 hour drive took us about 5 hours.



And so Christmas began. Travie had brewed a new strong pale ale, a mimic of Full Sail's limited edition Vesuvius from a few years ago. It's creamy, full bodied and even a little sweet. Similar to Pelican's Creme Ale, if you've had that. He and I broke into the half a dozen new Xbox games, and spent at least a dozen hours sitting there staring, mouths open, clicking away. Travie and his girlfriend went riding on the Redneck Toboggan--the hood from a 1977 Chevy pickup tied to the back of a Honda ATV. On Wednesday, we all ventured out in the warming weather, to try and de-snow the barns. One of them had displayed a few cracked trusses. In a moment of clear foresight, we moved our car away from the shop, and lucky we did, because the snow on the roof discharged in one huge sheet that would have crumpled our Nissan.


Jeanna thinks up a limerick-y gem

The roads being what they are, we ventured out only for necessities. Mom decided she wanted to have our own "church service" here at the house, so we all had to contribute some kind of poem or reading that spoke to the importance of the human spirit. Then we had to sing christmas carols. It's funny how few words I know without a book right in front of me. We'd sing clearly the first verse, then everyone would kind of fall off into humming and mumbling to the tune on the 2nd.


Travie tries to comprehend the meaning of Mom's limerick

Christmas morning I made eggnog french toast, per Matt's request, and we settled in for the traditional earn-your-present-with-a-game process. Again this year we chose pictionary. I like this tradition b/c it stretches the gifting out over several hours. That evening, some aunts and uncles came for prime rib roast, twice baked taters and some of Travie's fresh herb bread (made in the new bread machine!). Following dinner, and with champagne in hands, we played Limericks. Each person writes one line of a limerick, and passes the paper to the left. The next person writes the next line and so on. Here is my favorite:

The blonde elf, not in to thinking
At Santa, she started to winking
But when he smiled back
She showed him her rack
And that drove the kids to drinking


Merry Christmas to all!