isoglossia

Did I mention crab salad? CRAB SALAD. With Old Bay Seasoning courtesy of Jane, that’s crab salad.

The debate rages on about who loves who(m) more. When I say “All the way,” Magda wants to know how far that is. All the way where? “To the Crab Nebula,” I reply. “And back.”

“How far is that?”

[Two Googly minutes later]

“Well, I love you more than that.” Really? More than 4 kiloparsecs? Permit me to doubt.

(And yes, we realize that using units of distance in our attempts to quantify the unquantifiable in this debate is a questionable practice, but lots of questionable practices go on in our place.)

“Yes,” she says. “I love you to the Crab Nebula and back times infinity.”

The infinity argument being unwinnable, I have to substitute salad for nebula. If forced to choose between crab salad and Magda, she would win hands down.

Even now that we have Old Bay Seasoning in the house.

We’re off to the north for what Adam fervently hopes will be a white Christmas. Whether Santa will put in an appearance is contingent upon a certain skinny elf’s airplane comportment. Just to be safe, we scattered some white around the place, produced our own Santa-like homunculus, and broke out the camera.

Jolly Old Saint Nick cooperated. For fifteen or so seconds.

Adam offers his consulting services during a glitch in the tethered shooting.

The erosion in cooperation did not go uncaptured.

Magda attempts to soothe Jolly Old Saint Nick’s frayed nerves.

Ultimately, Jolly Old Saint Nick felt he had to distance himself from the project.

If you haven’t received your Christmas card yet, blame the Slovenian/and/or your local postal service. And send us your new address. We can’t keep track of everything.

To all a good night!

The entire exhaustive Christmas photo-shoot set is viewable on Flickr.

We’ll be back in the new year, full of herring and vodka.

…the third one in a row.

Happy anniversary, JDS!
And Crab Nebula, of course.
And back.
One million times.
To the infinite power.
Plus one.

Me: What are you making, honey?
Magda: I wanted to make some pickled pumpkin.
Me: You know, I seem to have heard that Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pumpkin.
Magda: Did he?
Me: Yes.
Magda: Jerk.

Extreme cross-reference: Bo Peep