Before I use the Sheep Launcher... ::hugs:: Broos

Today's tale -- The Trip to Leavenworth, or Where Are The Sheep?

Any car trip is exciting, so long as I'm not the one driving. Rob and I, after the usual newlywed tussles, decided that our "rule" is whoever drives picks the radio station. Unfortunately, one night I was listening to a song and Rob changed the station (he was driving) and I shrieked and switched it back, thus violating our rule. Before this trip, I loaded up with some Christmas CDs and tossed in a lone country music CD and headed to the car. Rob raised his eyebrow and mentioned our rule, going on and on about how he gets to choose the station and that for the next three hours I'm at his mercy...to which I growled, "Oh, dry up."

The trip started out in lovely humor.

It's a lovely drive (once Rob relented and we put on the Christmas music), up through the Cascades. The snow on the mountains looks like a dusting of sugar done with a template, as all the peaks' snow ends at the exact same line. As we neared the pass, we were suddenly within this snowline and I fretted about the road. Rob asked if I were concerned about his driving since he's driven in snow a lot more than I have. "That's true," I said. "And you drove when the roads were snowy like this when we went to the Grand Canyon." ((which readers may recall is when a semi drove us off the road into the ditch)) "Oh, thanks for bringing that confidence builder up," snorted my husband.

Leavenworth has styled itself as a Bavarian village, with half-timbered buildings and men in liederhosen wandering the streets. Rob and I had lunch then proceeded to look into the shops, searching for the perfect ornament for our first Christmas together. Rob objected to those "Our First Christmas" ones and at one point when he didn't follow me out of a shop quickly enough, I commented that perhaps we'd be better served by one titled "Our Last Christmas."

Despite searching every store, however, we did not see a single ornament with our family icon, the sheep. One particularly well-stocked ornament shop had gorillas, lions and peacocks. Rob found a sheep-like figure and we were pleased. Then Rob flipped it over ("It's a sheep; of course I have to check its backside.") and found that it was really a polar bear. The shop clerk was no help. "Sheep aren't in style; this year, it's pigs."

In this same shop, we read the legend of the Christmas Pickle on the box of bright green glass pickles. It says that if you found the pickle on the tree, your parents would give you a special little gift. I said it was more likely that the original pickle was actually a dildo and that mom and dad were pulling the old "magic bay leaf" save that I used with my kids.

After searching through the last shop and coming out sheepless, we headed home. As we drove home, Rob commented about how he hates people who are never satisfied with anything and always complain. I patted his knee to say, "I love you even if you are that way," and he groused, "Oh, dry up."

It's always a good thing when a trip begins and ends with the same joke. :)

There's lots of shops in Seattle and I'm determined to find our ornament. So maybe we're not stylish. We're unique!

Before I use the Sheep Launcher... ::hugs:: Broos

Today's tale -- The Trip to Leavenworth, or Where Are The Sheep?

Any car trip is exciting, so long as I'm not the one driving. Rob and I, after the usual newlywed tussles, decided that our "rule" is whoever drives picks the radio station. Unfortunately, one night I was listening to a song and Rob changed the station (he was driving) and I shrieked and switched it back, thus violating our rule. Before this trip, I loaded up with some Christmas CDs and tossed in a lone country music CD and headed to the car. Rob raised his eyebrow and mentioned our rule, going on and on about how he gets to choose the station and that for the next three hours I'm at his mercy...to which I growled, "Oh, dry up."

The trip started out in lovely humor.

It's a lovely drive (once Rob relented and we put on the Christmas music), up through the Cascades. The snow on the mountains looks like a dusting of sugar done with a template, as all the peaks' snow ends at the exact same line. As we neared the pass, we were suddenly within this snowline and I fretted about the road. Rob asked if I were concerned about his driving since he's driven in snow a lot more than I have. "That's true," I said. "And you drove when the roads were snowy like this when we went to the Grand Canyon." ((which readers may recall is when a semi drove us off the road into the ditch)) "Oh, thanks for bringing that confidence builder up," snorted my husband.

Leavenworth has styled itself as a Bavarian village, with half-timbered buildings and men in liederhosen wandering the streets. Rob and I had lunch then proceeded to look into the shops, searching for the perfect ornament for our first Christmas together. Rob objected to those "Our First Christmas" ones and at one point when he didn't follow me out of a shop quickly enough, I commented that perhaps we'd be better served by one titled "Our Last Christmas."

Despite searching every store, however, we did not see a single ornament with our family icon, the sheep. One particularly well-stocked ornament shop had gorillas, lions and peacocks. Rob found a sheep-like figure and we were pleased. Then Rob flipped it over ("It's a sheep; of course I have to check its backside.") and found that it was really a polar bear. The shop clerk was no help. "Sheep aren't in style; this year, it's pigs."

In this same shop, we read the legend of the Christmas Pickle on the box of bright green glass pickles. It says that if you found the pickle on the tree, your parents would give you a special little gift. I said it was more likely that the original pickle was actually a dildo and that mom and dad were pulling the old "magic bay leaf" save that I used with my kids.

After searching through the last shop and coming out sheepless, we headed home. As we drove home, Rob commented about how he hates people who are never satisfied with anything and always complain. I patted his knee to say, "I love you even if you are that way," and he groused, "Oh, dry up."

It's always a good thing when a trip begins and ends with the same joke. :)

There's lots of shops in Seattle and I'm determined to find our ornament. So maybe we're not stylish. We're unique!