Treemendous Christmas

My daughter and her friends sometimes play an Expectations vs. Reality game. They talk about what they expect to do, and then spectacularly fail in the reality of attempting to do it. For example, they can talk about expecting to make a perfect dive like this …

dive good

And then in reality do this at the pool …

German dive

Except without all the somersaults. Just the flop at the end is more like it for them.

I had grandiose expectations to decorate a tree outside this year. My wife decorated the outside of the house and it looks great again this year. It always does. She’s an awesome decorator. Not to be outdone, I eyed a large tree on the side of our house that would look incredible decked out with any leftover lights. I suggested to my wife that some icicle lights would look good on that tree. Nope. She pointed out that the white wire on the green tree would look terrible, and those icicle lights should only be used along the gutter. Well, duh. I knew that. Of course, I was just testing her. She passed along to me several old sets of appropriate lights and off to work I went.

My expectations were something like this …

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Family Hysterical History – The Parents

Yesterday, I introduced you to stories from the childhood of my grandmother and her siblings, my great aunts and uncles. For today, I threatened promised stories of the parents, my great grandmother and great grandfather. I am making good on that threat promise, so here we go. First up is a story of how my family history is similar to the Trump family in one special way.

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Family Hysterical History – The Kids

My oldest daughter has been working on the family genealogy, so she was thrilled when I stumbled across my paternal grandmother’s family history from the late 1800’s to 1975. I had no idea what a treasure trove of odd, humorous tidbits it would contain. Here we go with some memories from the 10 kids, who would be siblings of my grandmother who was already deceased at the time this history was written.

I just offered you a cartoon about mite cannibalism yesterday. How about we start today’s post with a story about chicken cannibalism?

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Too Much Junk in the Trunk

We arrived at our relative’s place in central Michigan and I immediately put my amateur arborist skills to work. When I was a kid, I had planned to be a tree surgeon when I grew up, but I couldn’t stand the sight of sap. That’s why I still have trouble looking in the mirror.

Vaudeville jokes aside, our relatives had a tree that had to come down. A quick look and the reason for the tree’s demise should be apparent to all, even non-arborists.

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