JRT, Old Dux, McGonigle and all the HWH friends,

a toast to you all, hoping you all had a great holiday. I will accept that beer JRT, it looks delightful. On top of all your other talents, who know you could make beer. You have gone up a few notches further in my estimation.
Sorry about the head Old Dux, but well worth it I'd say. You hit the nail on the head JRT - I suffered a similar fate, due largely to the large bottle of Glenfiddich which was a gift from my daughter's marvellous boyfriend, and also to my foolish idea that we compare its great taste to that of his rather large bottle of Glenmorangie. It was a close match and went inno overtime. The decision was split, as was my head the following day. There was no Wren-boys on St. Steven's for me I'm afraid. I'd love to do it all again though.
Speaking of which, that bottle needs some attention. Here's to you......

Gentlemen,

C51, JRT,

Those are indeed fine and justifiably popular whiskeys. I have found that both bottles usually have to be emptied before one can arrive at a satisfactory and reliable conclusion as to their respective merits - then you invariably find you've forgotten what they were.
Nice to get back to a soothing cuppa while stomach linings naturally return to normal.

Today it's fried leftovers with cabbage, potato, carrot fragments etc., and turkey scrapings along with a little crispy bacon (bubble & squeak), all washed down with half a corked bottle of this or that which has been left to go stale since Christmas Eve. Even the dogs won't go near the quishe or sausage rolls.

I swear that if all my exhaust gasses had been stored over the holiday it would be enough to bear aloft another Hindenburg - and every bit as incendiary...

Some hundred of my compatriots over-ate to the extent that they had to be taken to the ER on Christmas Eve. Not kidding!

Jens,

I know the feeling - but still never learn. You say Christmas Eve? That was even before the big hogfest usually held on Christmas Day!

Folks,

My painfully afflicted friends,

If misery loves company, here am I to help out.

I must say that it is a delightful revelation to find that we southern boys in the USA have not cornered the market on either gluttony or drinking to excess. I see that I am indeed amongst an international fraternity of like-minded friends here. LOL! Dux, would you kindly either open a window or put one of those discarded wine corks where it will do the most good and give the rest of us some much needed relief?

We are to the point now that our turkey has taken on the rather stark appearance of a good veterinary X-ray. Not much usable flesh left on the bones. We have had turkey sandwiches, turkey salad, turkey hash, and turkey surprise but, unlike some who will do anything not to waste even a smidgen of meat, I draw the line at actually putting it on my cornflakes. The spiral cut Smithfield ham is looking more than a bit thin as well but there will be more than enough for my lunch today. We are down to half a pecan pie and a quarter of a pineapple cake. Like you Dux, I swallowed way too much gas producing foods this season and everyone within several blocks and down wind of me paid the ultimate price. Though our temps have been up around 60 F./16 C. windows have been slamming shut all over. In the interest of public health and due entirely to my foul imminations I was once again forbidden to ride the Lizard Lick Used Tire, Beauty Shoppe and Department Store's elevator (lift) until fully cleared as free of gas by a qualified physician. Dux don't you find that the nasally sensitive can be so cruel at times?

C51 tells me he has had a great holiday season far away from students and school. After reading the above post, I have to ask myself how he can possibly remember.

It is my sincere hope that old Santa was good to you fellows and to all our regular readers. OK, and good to all our readers who happen to find themselves a bit irregular after the holiday feast, as well. We wish you all the happiest and most prosperous of New Year's.

Yes Old Dux, Christmas Eve no less. In this small part of the world we tend maximise our holidays so we celebrate Christmas Eve on the eve of the 24th, eat, dance around the Christmas tree and unwrap our presents if there are any, that is. This evening is traditionally spent with the closest relatives, the 25th and 26th being reserved for eating with other family members, no, not eating other family members, eating with..., typically the in-laws or siblings or whatever. So instead of one day of too much food we have at least three, not counting all the Christmas luncheons leading up to Christmas.

Yesterday the shops opened with the January sales so you could go to the shops and if you got one chandelier as a Christmas present you could now go to the shop and due to the sales could swap the one you got for Christams against two, at the same price. The mind boggles, biggles and burps!

Thankfully, I got off this crazy maze long ago.

Gentlemen,

JRT, C51, Jens...

Having now put aside my half empty bowl of turkey gruel, I would just mention that we birders over here will be out on our New Years Day trip on which we attempt to achieve a decent day list to start us off on a good footing for the year 2008.

During this trip you can bet that the mechanics of the car windows system will be tested to the limit as the aforementioned gasses will again be very much in evidence after the previous evenings celebrations.

Folks,

Jens:

I really enjoy hearing about how Christmas is observed in other countries. Thank you for sharing your Christmas with us. On our Thanksgiving Day (in late November) there is a big family feast and on that day all the adults in the family put their names on pieces of paper that are then placed in a bag. The bag is mercilessly shaken and each adult reaches in and withdraws one slip of paper. The name you draw is kept secret so no one knows who has drawn their own name. You give that person whose name you've drawn a gift on Christmas Eve. Our family gets together on Dec. 24th to visit, feast, and to sit by the fire in front of the Christmas tree to sing carols and to exchange those gifts. Though our generation's kids are grown now there are a lot of small grand children in our family. Each one of these children receives at least one gift on that night.

Dux:

You will get to celebrate the coming of the New Year five hours before I do. Thus your headache will probably already be beginning just as I am about to take my first sip of bubbly.

Despite all the noxious fumes, I wish you good fortune with your birding on New Year's Day. Are you quite sure you'll feel up to it? If you can rise early on New Year's Day and go anywhere but to the hospital or the nearest toilet, you must have the bullet-proof constitution of an Ox on crack.

Remember that when you are reluctantly crawling out of that warm and comfortable bed of yours at 6 AM to head out to the freezing marshes to stink up the air and commune with the chilly birdies, that I and millions of others in the states still have at least five and up to eight more hours of blissful slumber ahead of us. C51, on the other hand, because he will have consumed several quarts of choicest high proof sleeping potion the night before, will probably have another 12. Like we southern boys, those Canucks really know how to celebrate the New Year!

Folks,

Dux, C51:

Did you see the notice posted in the mess this morning? It seems that the colonel heard about that little fracas down at the Prince & Polecat on Christmas Eve. I was not present myself due to a tedious prior engagement at the post detainment center so I must rely upon mere hearsay as to what actually occurred. For instance, Is it true that Dux, in an advanced state of unaccustomed inebriation ordered a toffee nosed Guards chap to light his gasper and then proceeded to pour a full pint of Pouritt & Sypp down the back of the indignant fellows tunic?

Is it also true that this led to a physical confrontation that mercifully neither man had the legs to support? Is it further true that seeing the altercation about to fizzle out without a drop of blood being shed, C51 ran over and poked the Guardsman in the fist with his nose? I understand that, seeing double at the time, Dux thought several of his pals were actually and so uncharacteristically coming to his aid. This renewed his bravado, and with amazing dexterity, he managed to slip, slide or fall upon the floor from whence he began to kick the Grenadier in the foot with his ribs.

After that, it seems that one thing apparently led to another. Words were exchanged between the various service branches present and soon everyone in the pub was either on the giving or the receiving end of swift kicks, agonizing bites and crunchy knuckle sandwiches. It is suspected that it was at this precise point in the brawl that a person or persons unknown placed a call for help to the Lord Fartingham Pub over at Studley Grange. There, Olga and several large farm boys left their comfy bed and rushed right out to take the next London bus. They arrived on scene just in time to join in all the boisterous festivities on the side of the RAF. This turned the tide in our favor and soon Dux and C51 were held safely under her arms as Olga booted the last of the bruised and broken antagonists out the pub's back door and into the alley.

Olga is fine of course, however, if anyone wishes to send the Studley Grange lads a card, they are recovering nicely at Sister Matilda's Home for Recovering Dipsomaniacs and The Chronically Hungover.

This information I know first hand. The Grenadier, one leftenant Lord Rod N. Toodecore, has been doing everything in his power to make trouble for our boys. He is well connected in certain circles and has been making some waves. Thus we have the punitive order posted this morning in the mess. If you read that order closely you will note that it does not specify any individual however it does lay full blame upon us all collectively. Fair or not, we are forbidden to go within 2 blocks of the Prince & Polecat until one full month after New Years Day. Fret not, I understand that the worried landlord of that fine establishment is petitioning the courts seeking an injunction to lift that restriction on the grounds that barring Dux and C51 alone would surely force him into bankruptcy.

Gentleman, we have no more to fear from Toodecore either. Old Rod's Machiavellian activities stopped abruptly once Olga showed up by his hospital bed one night wearing a very tight nurses uniform and carrying a large bottle of cayenne pepper sauce, a gallon-sized enema bag and a very sharp syringe. I think that, like Olga, we have certainly seen the end of this troublesome chap.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OUR READERS!

Now that the P&P is out of bounds we are gathering at the Manston Officers Mess to see in the New Year. OK...so repairs have not yet been fully effected since the last Luftwaffe attack but we have scrounged some old tarpaulins from Farmer Drubbins pig sty to patch up the roof.

Fearful of being bancrupted by the recent court ruling, the landlord of our oft frequented hostelry has literally rolled out the barrel - in fact a susbstantial number of them have been trundled up from the village and they are all now securely in place and ready for the eagerly anticipated booze-up.

Olga has spent several weeks brewing up a caustic vodka potion from spuds, stable sweepings, sterilising alcohol and embalming fluid. A trifling amount has been used by Flight Sergeant Farquaharson for cleaning the spark plugs and removing unwanted road markings from the perimeter track.

Folks,

OK, if you're reading this tonight (New Years Eve) you are either unaware of the function of the calendar or celebrating the coming of the New Year at home as am I. Either way, thank you for the company.

As HWH joyfully staggers into the new year of 2008, let me say that it has been a pleasure to visit here for the past 365 days. This has been a special year for our thread for it has marked its 517th page and 5,000th post since its second reincarnation began. Nearly 40,000 visits have been registered in the year since the counters were installed. To some degree in 2007, due to the unexplained lack of posting BoB stories by our readers, HWH has become almost a blog. It features writing principally by our Canadian C51, our Brit Dux and myself from the southern USA. Whatever it is, it carries on...and on....and on. And we sincerely thank our readers for visiting us.

All the numbers are well and good and something noteworthy to be sure, however, for me, the most important thing we celebrate on this New Years Eve 2007 will be the fun we've shared throughout the year with our friends both known and unknown. We wish one and all the happiest and most prosperous of new years and invite you all back here tomorrow when those still able to read and type will begin HWH 2008!

Dux, would you mind speaking to Olga about her still? See if she can do anything about all those noxious fumes. When the wind is right, motorists passing through the smoky exhaust are complaining that it peels the paint from their cars and melts their windscreen wiper blades.

Good news lads, we will have roasted venison with the booze up tonight. A wild stag wandered by the still during the early evening hours. He must have been thirsty for he lapped up an ounce or two of that lethal brew which had so carelessly been spilled upon the ground. Suddenly, his eyes crossed, he began staggering about and then he fell down upon the forest floor most profoundly dead. C51 being of the Vegetarian religion will probably be underwhelmed by the menu. We'll fill his bucket with bubbly and the rest of us carnivores will sharpen our canines and smack our lips.

Dux,

I note that you will be celebrating something else in January. January 7th is Old Dux's birthday. He has at least one of those every year. Please do not ask him how old he will be. Suffice to say that Napoleon has no brandy that old and when the cute little Dux baby came screaming into this world dirt was yet to be invented. I cannot wait to see what Olga gives you in 2008. As I recall, you had to get a shot of penicillin to get rid of what she gave to you last year...

I have posted a small item that should be rattling about in your rusty mailbox very soon Dux.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUX!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

Gents,

JRT,

Great news from the Palace! The Squadron will be honoured shortly and further information is coming through the channels at this very moment! My instructor from days of yore will also be present in his bath chair and with ear trumpet at the ready. He is sure to hear the fly-past even if he can't see it.

Today we did the North Wales birding run on quite a mild day for January. Purple Sandpiper, Spotted Redshank, Snow Bunting and a fair number of other species. I wonder if C51 had a birding count?

Folks,

Dux:

That is grand news and it is about time too. I must say that I am a trifle surprised considering that huge rocket we got after buzzing the reviewing stand on St. Swithens Day causing Her Majesty to take that nasty tumble out of her royal box. The fact that, when given an opportunity to speak for us, you made the somewhat insensitive statement "Them royals sure do bounce good" probably didn't help matters either.

Congratulations! I will pass along your birding tally to C51. I doubt that I will hear from him for a few more days. Not until he returns to school.

On the home front, we are actually expecting some snow flurries here tonight. When we see temps down around -7C., as we expect tonight, it is an occasion for much chattering of teeth around here.

Folks,

As night drew on, and, from the crest
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west,
The sun, a snow-blown traveler, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back, --
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty forestick laid apart,
And filled between with curious art

From "SNOWBOUND"
By: Whittier

It is not customary even in January, to see flurries of anything save chicken feathers or dandruff around Lizard Lick. Yet we have already had a few snow flurries today and a good deal more is expected as temps plummet to -7 C./20 F. or even lower tonight. The Oija board crowd has been suffering of late from several missed weather forecasts so I am not too worried that we do not have snow plows in our town. There is plenty of time if it becomes necessary to sprinkle rock salt on the steps and round up all the chilly critters.

Although weather forecasting seems impressively scientific enough with all those weather satellites, animated weather maps with their isobars, high and low pressure symbols and let us not forget the Dual Doppler 5000 RADAR that no weatherman worth a grain of road salt can do without. Computer models have been painstakingly created from code that includes the weather patterns and data from way back to when old Noah first looked up at a darkening sky and said...."Damn, it looks like it might rain."

Nonetheless, of late, they seem to be struggling just a tad. Perhaps it is more of an art after all? Or I suppose the climate may be shifting and thus rendering all those expensive weather models almost useless. When they tell us that there is a 30% chance of rain this means that over the ages the prevailing weather conditions produced rain 3 times out of ten. Wouldn't it be nicer if they could say with certainty something like... "You lot planning that pond-side birthday party at 221 B Baker Street had better bring your brollies and mind the hailstones. 2300 of those beastly crystals precisely 2.01" in diameter will begin falling over your picnic table at 3:12:00 PM.

There are still not enough reporting stations for absolute pinpoint accuracy they say. I wonder if this is true since those weather satellites in geosynchronous orbit must cover every inch of mud, sand, clay and frozen tundra from the North Pole to McMurdo Station. Sometimes the forecasts still seem a bit generalized and we have gotten used to that. When they say it will be raining buckets, I get the feeling that, although it may not actually rain at my house, if I just drive a few blocks in any direction there will probably be a deluge of Biblical proportions going on.

Dependability and accuracy is what is required these days. They do their best and that is usually good enough. Yet I am sure they want perfection. I suppose that one day soon they will be knocking on everyone's door asking if they can poke about on their property, bury some cables, top off a few trees and put a big, silver disk that beeps as it revolves 360 degrees every minute up on their roofs. Once this is done perhaps the local forecasts may greatly improve.

JRT,

Just a light snow dusting this morning but very cold. Winds from the east. Don't mind six feet of snow - it's the slush from the thaw we can do without. I am of the opinion that advice from farmers like Drubbins will at least equal any scientific weather prediction. Works for us around here anyway.

Folks,

Dux:

An early post from you with New Years Eve such a recent if clouded memory. I cannot rule out a few flakes sifting through our little grove of trees during the wee hours this morning however, just as I suspected, we had not even a light dusting of snow to make boot tracks in this morning. It is cold and windy but clear. At the moment it is 0 degrees C./ 31 F. I expect today and tonight to be a repeat of yesterday.

Yes, indeed, you are definitely on the right track when consulting the well known Farmer Drubbins Unofficial Oral Almanac. Your old fellows and ours who scratch out a living from the Derbyshire or North Carolina soil live or die by the weather and so they develop a sixth sense about such things as cloud formations, the thickness of the fur on worms or the shells of nuts. Confidentially though, I know a big-time farmer who has one small room of his home entirely devoted to purpose built computers and other weather predicting equipment that would be the envy of many a small meteorological bureau. It is said that his predictions are almost always on the nose and he has profited greatly there from.

Growing up here in eastern North Carolina when this was essentially an agricultural area that was principally devoted to the raising of flue-cured tobacco, vital weather forecasts beamed to the farm community of my youth came to us mainly over the radio and much later from the TV. I well remember sitting on the floor in front of the big console radio as my Grandpa tuned in "Joe Overman with the weather". He did that religiously no less than 3 times every day including Sundays.

He was not a farmer yet the daily weather forecast was important news for my dear old Grandpa. Grandpa was a small-business man and the closest thing he ever did to farming after leaving the family farm down in Duplin county, at a very young age, was to tend a half-acre garden. He did however walk a short distance to work every day and that I suppose required some reliable knowledge of the impending weather conditions. The only thing I was interested in was hearing if it would snow in winter, which would keep us home from school and outside to play, or if it would rain in summer which would keep us inside to play.

Joe was affectionately known to many as "Joe Overshoes" and was relied upon by almost everyone within at least a hundred mile radius of AM station WGTM (call letters that I was assured by the owner's son were an acronym for "Worlds Greatest Tobacco Market"). Even though Joe had never been to college in his life and weather forecasting was just a serious avocation for him, his predictions beamed by remote broadcast from his home in Wilson county, were amazingly accurate. He maintained a lofty position as a wizard prognosticator that was absolutely unassailable until the day he signed off for the last time. The man was a weather genius.

Speaking of genius, no word from C51. I do expect him to surface soon.

Folks,

After the recent and terrible weather events in the West I have no further desire to complain about the mild weather here. It is always a roller coaster ride from valley to crest at this time of the year anyway. We had night-time temps down to -9C/15F in some areas last week and now we are looking forward to tomorrow as temps may climb back up to and past a toasty 21C./70F. Thank goodness I have those thermal swim shorts my dear Mother-In-Law gave me last Christmas. The ones with the heavy lead weights sewn into the waistband.....

Speaking of holidays recently past, they have just about picked up all those pathetic dead and dying Christmas trees once littering the otherwise pristine roadsides of Lizard Lick. Most neighborhoods have a few spots of ground covered in dried needles and a few straggly threads of tensile adhering to various shrubs and blades of browning grass to remind us of those once magnificent, boughs of green that thrilled the chillin' and adults alike at Christmas time.

Mom always had a real tree. As a small child I used to help decorate the tree. I wasn't much help as I was too short. I could be relied upon to place the little lighted Santa on green skis on the bottommost branch every year. I felt like I had really accomplished something if Mother accepted what I had done and didn't have to adjust it in any way. One day I found myself relying upon my own little son to do the same for me. I have always selfishly loved having a "live" Christmas tree. Perhaps you have too?

The smell of the forest brought right into the house is an ancient olfactory delight. Nothing brings instantaneous memories of Christmas past to my mind like the pungent aroma of evergreen. OK, baking cookies can do that too, but let us not fail to mention the modern feast for the eyes the tree of today becomes with all those seasonal decorations dangling from every available twig. Because we tend to leave our gorgeous tree up until after "Old Christmas" (Jan. 6th) we really get the most out of ours. Our trees are kept well watered throughout the holidays and they are usually still standing straight, bushy and green when the inevitable day comes for us to say our sad goodbyes. They look so good it seems a damn shame to simply throw them out. Do you ever feel that way?

I always feel sad on the day we take down our tree. Christmas is really over at that point. Each tree has added so much to our Christmas pleasure. Over the holiday weeks they have become a beautiful, if completely disposable, part of our extended family. We stand in the dark and admire our tree watching its glow upon the smiling faces of our loved ones gathered 'round it. We brag about its beauty to friends and family and even enjoy showing it off to passing strangers by placing it by a window.

Yes, I feel sadness and more than just a bit sorry for having at least aided and abetted in the killing a living part of the forest. OK, I know the tree was only grown to be cut down in its prime. NC is a major producer of well watered, fertilized and chainsaw sculpted Christmas trees. In fact, IMHO there are no better trees to be found than our NC trees. Many NC grown trees have traveled to the White House over the years and I'm sure that the older trees who provided the seeds and seedlings which grew into the mature giant that graced the nation's capital were reasonably proud to see them give their lives for that most patriotic and worthy of causes. So many give their lives these days for so much less.

We can get trees freshly cut right right off a festive if muddy flatbed truck, cut that day direct from the NC mountains. Recently, more and more of our area farmers have begun raising Christmas trees on old tobacco fields around here. We can go out and chop one or even two down in minutes and drag them away for a nominal fee without having to search much or even get more than a few feet off a paved road. You can pay more but you can't get a tree fresher than that my friend.

Perhaps it is good that farmers and others can make a good living growing trees? That will mean they will continue to plant them. The same goes for all those folks in the wood industry. The smart ones wisely farm the trees not just selfishly cut down the old growth leaving only scrub behind to flourish. We make and sell a lot of furniture in our state. Wood is beautiful, rich and warm. I can't imagine buying furniture for any home made entirely of man-made, cold plastic or metal, so some trees must be sacrificed. It seems to me that it just needs to be done in a sensible, responsible way. Trees are more than just a natural and renewable resource. There is something spiritual about trees, especially old trees.

At our house we get trees fresh cut and care for them properly, yet I must admit that, now and again, in spite of our care, all does not go so well. By January, we drag the brown, mummified and shedding carcass of a profoundly defunct tree out to lay there in its abject misery by the curb. There it lies, sometimes for days, just crumbling until it is picked up with a final and pitiful shower of dry needles to be carted off to wherever the Christmas tree graveyard may be.

Why do some trees do better than others? After years of research, I believe that some trees just naturally take better to living their last few weeks of life gasping for carbon dioxide in windless, over heated houses. They more easily stand quietly with their brutally shortened feet cramped inside a rusty bucket of chlorinated water covered underneath in cotton and crowded with gifts of all shapes and sizes instead of a nourishing earth. They do not mind if their aching branches are cruelly if beautifully weighted down by bedazzling yet sometimes even stinging hot ornaments. They are bred for it. They nobly accept their fate.

Hmmmmmm. I just re-read that tediously lengthy paragraph and it sounds rather cruel doesn't it? No cruelty is ever intended of course.

Some green-minded folks now buy Christmas trees that can be planted after the holidays. That seems to be a good idea. However I suspect that after 10 years or so of doing this they may find their small plot of land getting a bit crowded with green. Others use artificial trees and today you can get quite a realistic tree for not very much money. Still it isn't quite the same is it? Perhaps we should get used to artificial trees? By the time my grandkids have kids I suspect that the only trees the struggling survivors may have might be the artificial variety...period.

Short or tall, broad or on the skinny side I have never met a Christmas tree I did not like. In recent years, as I look back on well over half a century of so many fine Christmas trees, for some reason I now tend to consider how the trees might feel about it. Yes, forgive me, that is a tad on the ridiculously anthropomorphic side. Yet they are or were once alive. I wonder if they feel pain? I'm not a real 'tree hugger', I don't have a card in my wallet, I do not attend the meetings, I have never actually hugged a tree or ever seriously considered kissing one. I have even been known to build bon fires to warm me and to toast weenies.

I do freely admit to loving trees but it is purely in the Platonic sense. We have a lovely little grove of trees on our property. In addition to the many deciduous varieties we have several lofty evergreens. Cedar trees really thrive here. We have two that are over fifty feet tall. Within a short walk from here there are oaks that were giving shade when the Algonquin Indians hunted here.

I feel protective of our trees. I'm not quite old enough to remember the Algonquins yet I also grew up with these trees providing shade. I climbed our trees as a kid and that, for many years, was the closest I came to the joy of flying. They scent the air and they cool it, they provide oxygen and scrub the air of carbon dioxide, they stop erosion of the soil. They give birds and squirrels a place with a view to sleep and to rest. Their leaves carpet the ground providing compost for the soil and sanctuary for tons of insects and small rodents.

We have a large colony of shrews living under the compost of several large sweetgum trees near us. Now and again a cat will drag a dead one up and show it off but never eat it. Our shrews have long noses with mouse-like gray bodies. They have black fur on their backs. Considered to be the most blood thirsty of mammals it is fortunate indeed for us and for the cats that shrews are small creatures, do not hunt in packs, and mostly crave insects.

Trees give woodpeckers a reason for living. They provide us with a delicious variety of nuts and fruit. Trees are also gloriously pleasant to look upon no matter what season they are dressed for. Observing trees can tell you much about the weather. If a tree is wet, it is raining. If a tree's branches are moving, it is windy. If a tree's bark is warm and brightly lit, it is a sunny day. I would not wish for anyone to harm our trees in any way or to chop them down for any reason.

Yet next Christmas, like nearly all my Christmases past, way back to when I stood on tip toes to reach but the lowest branches as I "helped" my mother hang that special decoration, I will probably have another live Christmas tree in 2008.

Ain't I a damn hypocrite?

JRT,

Thanks for C51 birding info. We were out yesterday but only locally when news came through of a White-crowned Sparrow in Norfolk - what we call a 'yankee bird'. Might end up there if it sticks around but with a big weather change due that ain't likely. I suppose it's fairly common over on your side.

Folks,
Dux:

Get out the field glasses and pack a good lunch. That bird must have caught a good tail wind or stowed away on a ship.

We have loads of sparrows over here to be sure. It is the most common of little garden birdies around here. As for that particular species, I believe it breeds in the tundra, and boreal forest well north of C51's chilly home. It spends the winter (non-breeding months) spread out over most of the US including part of North Carolina.

I received an e-mail from C51 this morning. He is back at school and has resumed counting the days until his retirement next year.

It is time to place your orders for March kittens. Our highly motivated and experienced production staff is more than ready and apparently quite eager to fill your order. Our biggest tom, Booger, has been gone for two full days. Unlike poor C51, he truly loves his work.

JRT,

Gone for two days eh? What a life. Where did we go wrong?