Is Your Mama A Llama?

Meet Lulu.
I'm quite smitten with her.
I think it's the long eyelashes.

Just look at that face; how could anyone resist Lulu's charm.

Lulu is one of three Webkinz Caroline discovered under the Christmas tree this morning. Her first and only wish was for a bird Webkinz; my parents happily obliged this request and sent her, Sweetie, the pink cockapoo.

Sweetie looks deep in thought.

Caroline would like me to give a shout out to Brownie, a brown (of course!) dog, that has gone unpictured in this post. We don't want him to feel left out.

Her mama isn't a llama.

Our Christmas was pleasant. Quiet, but nice all the same.



Bayberry spice.

Lunch with a friend.

A Vera Bradley explosion.

Purple punch.

An art explosion, brought to us by Bailey, Caroline's friend and recipient of some shiny new paint pens.

It wouldn't be Christmas without a Lego explosion.

Which resulted in this:

It sure does look smaller than the picture on the box, doesn't it?

Besides the myriad of presents and the resulting mess, our day was quiet. The sky was grey and dreary, just the way I like it. There was reading, playing and television watching. Not exciting, festive or enviable, but for me, it was just fine.

Our dinner, though unpictured, solicited rave reviews from Craig, which, for me, is always a nice way to end the day. We ate brined and roasted pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes with gravy, asparagus, homemade cinnamon applesauce and homemade crescent rolls.

I'm stuffed, spoiled rotten and sad to see Christmas come and go again. Winter seems bleak and cold after a season of lights, cookies and merriment. However, I still have Oreo truffles in my fridge to indulge in, so I'm not giving in to the post-holiday let down just yet.