Christmas morn blossomed brightly this year on the eastern Wyoming sage-brush prairie. A Christmas unlike all others for me. For in my wakening, no sounds of fellow brother or kin didst I discern. Only the usual blanched hush of yon simpleton's bachelor pad did register on hammer, anvil and stirrup.
But don't despair friends, for though the day began in singular fashion, the previous night's company was fresh on my wits, only taking priority behind the next social engagement soon to begin.
And thus I spent most of the Twenty-Fifth in the ranks of lovely familial townsfolk. Eating, chatting, even opening a gift they'd gotten me. That's quite awesome, thought I.
And so the day wore on, and the babies' ensuing meltdowns triggered an under-the-tree booty cease-fire. There's always tomorrow.
The sun set on opposing terra and it was over.
I'm not certain if being "away" for Christmas was as looming a banshee as the notion seems in theory. Perhaps it's just a grand placebo effect. A giant, neatly wrapped, tinseled sugar pill.
We may never know.
But regardless I felt the love of a new brethren who, though belonging not of similar bloodline, have welcomed me "home" to their prairie fences and couch-side hitching posts time and time again since my arrival and specifically on Christmas Day.
And that's something to be thankful for.
There's something I've learned in my months in Wyoming: Smalltown America is about relationships. First and foremost. There's not a lot of glitz on the Western way, but it will hold you up in the stiffest of winds it seems.
So, with nearly five months in country, the relational investments are getting some returns in deeper ways, I think. Yes, rootin' tootin to that!
So. 'Nog and cookie yourself, compadres. Here's to new, Wyo mighty mates.
*cheers*
Christmas dinner carne: prime rib from Douglas Grocery's legendary meat department. Dericious!
And then I got some sunset shots, per usual. Looking southwest, over the nearby Laramie Range.
Double time. I-25 runs over the tracks in the distance.
Laramie Peak, elev. 10,274. booyah.
I know, the traffic is pretty bad sometimes. But only during rush hour.
Yule horse.
In other news, I took this stress test recently. Scored like a 340. I guess that means I'll have serious stress-induced physical ailments if it continues. Hmm. Curious. I think I need a vacation or something. Oh, wait. I'm on one. Bonus.
See you all next year.
Ooo, I got a 138. Nothing but calm watas here. We'll see how long that lasts.
Me - 276, Joe - 369. We're doomed.
368. Ooops.