Christmas Cards

My Mother claims that there is a gene for Christmas Cards. Either you have it, or you don't. I don't. Neither does she, I might add. We decided it's a resessive gene.
Kara overcame her's by an act of sheer will; which is not at all surprising when you know how strong that girl's will can be.
Kara's sister, Krista, is a slave to her Christmas Card Gene. She begins planning it in the month of..., was it October?
Krista is a wonderful girl, and she has oodles of personality. And style. And an enormous clothing budget, apparently, because she is aways dressed in haute couture.
So, she sent out a card last year to those on The List. (There is room on The List for precisely 75 names. Family gets to stay on no matter what, but everyone else is on shaky ground.) This card had, like, 15 photos of Krista and Sam on the front. Sam and Krista in Hawaii. Sam and Krista in Hawaiian shirts. Sam and Krista in swimwear in Hawaii. Sam and Krista in Hawaiian shirts in Hawaii.
Krista knows if you keep her Christmas Card. She will look at your refrigerator in July to see if it's there. Plus, she knows if you have sent her sister a Christmas Card, and neglected her. If you do that, she'll cross you off The List.
There is a set of rules called Christmas Card Etiquette that I was oblivious to. Krista endeavoured to educate me last night. Are you all aware of this? I was thinking that I could send one this year. I am going to have to send one to Krista and Sam, anyway, so that I can get back on their list.
We had our annual Bar-De-Nay dinner last night with Krista, Kara, and our respective mothers.
It was very funny. We laughed long and hard about the Christmas Card stuff.
We talked about music and movies.
We talked shopping.
We ordered 2 bottles of wine, one white and one red. And we asked for 5 orders of the trout. Really, we all ate the exact same thing. It was delicious.
I am so thankful, once again, for lifelong friends. And Trout. And excellent wine. And Great food. And silly stories.
It's good to be home.