December 22, 2003 - The Home Stretch

I was so cold, in fact, that I pulled my scarf up over my nose. The Gryphon dubbed me the Cashmere Bandito, but I pretended I misheard him.

"I'm not a burrito," I said. This, of course, morphed the nickname into the Cashmere Burrito.

I claimed the scarf over my face made me "lovably quirky" and that God had commanded me to "go forth and be adorable." This led to a theological discussion on what God might have meant by being "adorable" and the difference between that and "lovably quirky," or in fact, looking like a Cashmere Burrito.

When we finally got to the stores, I was glad we'd gone there instead of a mall. As we walked down the street, the stores ranged from New Age style gift stores to import shops, record shops, antiques and original art.

For some people we had specific suggestions; for others we had general ideas. By the time we got to the end, we'd covered pretty much all the people on our list. What's more, it was a much less crowded and more interesting environment than a mall.

We tried a Thai restaurant on South Street, Tamarind, for which I'd seen an ad on TV. They were excellent: the food, the atmosphere, the service. I had the Ginger Curry and a Thai Iced Tea. Delish.

By the time we headed back to my car, it was dark out. Of course, dark falls early this time of year. The Gryphon was gracious enough to carry my bags for me.

When we got to my place, I said, "I think I'm going to wrap a few things."

I just kept going and going and going, paper and scissors flying, until I'd finished the last gift. It was after midnight, and The Gryphon had fallen asleep in the recliner.

My dog, Una, had fallen asleep wearing the reindeer antlers I put on her to be my assistant during the wrapping. Her job was to sniff each package to make sure it was ready to be wrapped.

Now the pressure is basically off. Just one more trip: to the grocery store for a little egg nog. Yum.

Musings an Online Journal of Sorts By Alyce Wilson
December 22, 2003 - The Home Stretch
	The Gryphon and I had some Christmas shopping to finish up, so Sunday after I did a little work, we bundled up and drove down to South Street, Philadelphia. The advantage to going to South Street was their variety of colorful shops. The disadvantage, I realized as soon as we got out of my car, was the cold.
I was so cold, in fact, that I pulled my scarf up over my nose. The Gryphon dubbed me the Cashmere Bandito, but I pretended I misheard him. "I'm not a burrito," I said. This, of course, morphed the nickname into the Cashmere Burrito. I claimed the scarf over my face made me "lovably quirky" and that God had commanded me to "go forth and be adorable." This led to a theological discussion on what God might have meant by being "adorable" and the difference between that and "lovably quirky," or in fact, looking like a Cashmere Burrito. When we finally got to the stores, I was glad we'd gone there instead of a mall. As we walked down the street, the stores ranged from New Age style gift stores to import shops, record shops, antiques and original art. For some people we had specific suggestions; for others we had general ideas. By the time we got to the end, we'd covered pretty much all the people on our list. What's more, it was a much less crowded and more interesting environment than a mall. We tried a Thai restaurant on South Street, Tamarind, for which I'd seen an ad on TV. They were excellent: the food, the atmosphere, the service. I had the Ginger Curry and a Thai Iced Tea. Delish. By the time we headed back to my car, it was dark out. Of course, dark falls early this time of year. The Gryphon was gracious enough to carry my bags for me. When we got to my place, I said, "I think I'm going to wrap a few things." I just kept going and going and going, paper and scissors flying, until I'd finished the last gift. It was after midnight, and The Gryphon had fallen asleep in the recliner. My dog, Una, had fallen asleep wearing the reindeer antlers I put on her to be my assistant during the wrapping. Her job was to sniff each package to make sure it was ready to be wrapped. Now the pressure is basically off. Just one more trip: to the grocery store for a little egg nog. Yum.
Moral: Wrapping Christmas presents is not complete without reindeer antlers. Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson Musings Index
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