The Wilcoxsons

On past drives home from school for Christmas, it has been easy to tell when I was getting close to home because the snow disappears. However, this Christmas for the first time in my recollection, I came home to more snow than I had left in Utah! Though it was rather a nuisance, it was also very beautiful. The whole city was shut down due to the highly irregular weather. So, happily, we were stranded at home! We ventured twice to my sister Miriam's house (only a few miles away), always prepared to walk should the car get stuck in the snow.

"Will we make it up this hill?"

A focused Kate.

A nervous Chace.

A great 'do! But I knew better than to let her do my hair! Instead I distracted her with the camera! "Can you take a picture of me? Can I see?!"

An intense political debate...

...turns deadly.

Otherwise we were content to spend our mornings sleeping in or jumping into bed with mom and dad (and their chinchilla), and our days playing in the snow, tending the chickens, and riding horses.

Before we knew it Christmas Day was upon us! But where was the turkey? Throughout the week Mom kept referring to "Isfahan" in reference to Christmas dinner, in response to which my sisters would shudder and say something like, "Mom, that's so morbid. Why do you call them by their Christian names? It's just creepy." Come to find out "Isfahan" was the name of the turkey she had been raising to feed the family that night. So on Christmas morning at about 11, Isfahan was still clucking contentedly out in the woods! Chace was recruited to help Dad "dress" her for dinner.

They disappeared out into the forest and I didn't see them again until Chace walked into the kitchen a couple hours later, bird in hand, face speckled with a suspicious red-brown substance. I laughingly said, "Wow, look at you! Well, do you feel manly?" He, looking somewhat dazed, said solemnly, "Not really."

Then I recalled a time he had told me about when a young Chace and his cousins had been out shooting BB guns. His cousins were shooting at birds. Chace didn't feel particularly comfortable with this, but so as not to look like a sissy, he shot at them too. Unfortunately he proved to be a better shot than he thought and he killed one. His show of masculinity hadn't lasted long. He burst into tears.

Of the slaughter of Isfahan though, Chace did say it was a positive experience overall. He loves to eat meat and he said that after actually participating in its preparation, he gained a new appreciation and respect for meat, as well as a renewed realization that it comes from living breathing creatures--sometimes with Christian names! I still don't think, however, that he will be volunteering for the job next Christmas.

The fabulous Christmas feast was followed by some fabulous gifts and entertainment. We sang carols and then had musical numbers from several nieces and nephews.

Then the party really started--the dance party! Want proof? Check out Captain Jack's dance moves?

Max tried to dance too, but kept tripping over whomever's shoes he was wearing at the moment.

We also celebrated Gracie's birthday. She was the best Chritsmas present anyone ever had!

I love this picture of her.

The award-winning gift, if you ask the boys, was a game, the object of which is to hold a metal hand-piece and push a button at the appropriate nanosecond so as to avoid electrocution, whereupon all other participants will be shocked instead. Definitely a game to appeal to the thrill-seeking XY chromo (I'm reminded of a little trick my sister Miriam taught me for remembering which gender has an X and a Y chromosome: "'Y' is for "Why are they so dumb?") The night ended as people trickled out back to their own homes, but not before a Monopoly Marathon. Again, XY. Enough said.

But Christmas wasn't over! The next evening we reunited at Miriam's to have Christmas with the Allens. I was in heaven. All I need to be happy is to be surrounded by these amazing people forever. It doesn't get any better than this.