PhotoBlog: The Magic of Christmas

In the spirit of Christmas (And my burgeoning insanity spurred on by the reality that, for the next two weeks/eternity, I am trapped in my Los Angeles home), here are some holiday photos for you to enjoy. Normally, I would share these precious moments with you via Yahoo! Photos (Since I refuse to put them on Facebook. Some things are sacred.), but I am befuddled by the new layout. I am saving you a stress migraine.


Behold our glorious Christmas tree. The fire is roaring; the stockings are hung by the chimney with care. Someone kill me. It's 75 degrees outside.


I present to you, Dr. George Thannisch, in all his glory. This retired pediatrician and aspiring blueberry wine-maker will tempt you with his vine-grown confection, but I advise you to run, run away!! Save yourself from the worst thirty seconds of your life while the acidic fluid flows down your throat on its way to play with your insides. (Note: I am not ignoring the impressive bounty of Santa figurines. I hope they speak for themselves.)


The Thannisch Men. I have nothing witty to say. I just like this picture.


This is my step-dad, Tim. My Uncle John built a "game room" in his backyard over the summer. I stand by my belief that he only built it to house his hunting trophies and taxidermied animals. Oh, that's right. It's a hobby.



Taxidermied turkey in-flight. It's all about presentation. Right?


My mom and her brothers.


Oh. Sweet. Moses.


Mom's proud of her roots.


When I took this picture, my mom said, "Make sure you get the lightbulb and the toothpaste in the shot."


Uncle John making his famous beer batter biscuits. Paula would be proud. I think they contain both butter and lard.


Genius?


They stay up at the Eason cabin watching Andy Griffith and shooting squirrels with cross-bows.


Two words: Trout beer-cozy.


Grandparents. Mom. Me.

Lufkin, Texas truly is the land of dreams. And if your dreams die hard, I will give you my uncle's number and he will taxidermy them for you.