Breast Christmas Ever

The blog title cannot be explained. In fact, the entire Wiltshire Family Christmas is always an event that cannot be explained. At least not well enough to do it justice. You really have to be there.

It is always a lot of fun, a lot of chaos, and the occasional odd stocking stuffer. It gets just a little more chaotic with every addition to our ever-growing family. This was Makinley's first Christmas...and she survived. Scott has been a part of this annual event for so long now, that rarely does anything surprise or phase him. Nancy is still fairly new at this, however, and she still occasionally gets that "What in the hell have I married into?" look on her face. Living with me every day for the past two years has helped prepare her, at least a little bit, for the insanity.

Christmas Eve always involves going to the Candlelight Service at church. After that, it's off to Carrie's house for games. This part of the night got off to a rough start when Logan got home after church and immediately went to the play room, where his 16-in-1 game table from Santa was hidden. Only problem was that Santa was still on his way from the North Pole. Carrie really has to get better at hiding gifts. The middle of the play room is maybe not the best hiding place. We'll work on that for next year. Luckily Santa had a backup gift and Logan was none the wiser.

We got Carrie a Kwanzaa gift, since Laura would be mad if got her a Christmas gift, since Carrie was not either of our assigned Christmas gift recipients. The main reason for the gift was so we would have a new game to play on Christmas Eve. I think we succeeded in sneaking it by Laura. At least until she reads this blog. As we were wrapping up another exciting round of Wiltshire Family Trivial Pursuit, Nancy began having some weird stomach pains, so we had to call it a night. Her pregnancy really causes some strange aches and pains from time to time. Christmas Eve 2008 was in the books.

We awoke bright and early on Christmas morning to assemble a few toys and eat breakfast. Oh, and I was just kidding about the pregnancy thing. It is a running joke in our family. They expect a big "announcement" every time we visit. They even keep tabs on whether Nancy is drinking beer or not, in the hopes of getting a clue as to when the announcement might be.

Once Laura, Scott, and Makinley arrived, it was time for opening presents. This event is only slightly less chaotic than yelling "Fire!" in a crowded theater. Take three small children, all the toys from aisles 1 through 17 at Toys R Us, and 3 metric tons of wrapping paper, and there you have it. Mass hysteria. We used to calmly open our gifts one at a time, taking turns along the way. Not any more. Now it's everyone for themselves. No more posing for pictures with each gift, no more thank yous to the gift giver, no more telling everyone what you got. Luckily, Dad set up the camcorder on the tripod to capture every moment on tape, just as he has done every year since camcorders came out. We have yet to ever actually watch one of these tapes, but the point is, we could if we wanted to.

It seems every year there is one stocking stuffer that defies logic and common sense. Logan was the lucky recipient this year. He got a nutcracker. Now this is not the little soldier boy nutcracker, mind you. No, this is a solid steel nut-crushing device complete with sharp metal pick. Just what every 6 year old high on sugar needs. The ironic thing is that he received this gift on the only Christmas in memory that our stockings were not at least partially filled with whole, unshelled pecans and almonds. We got no gouda cheese this year either. Usually a round, red, wax-covered wheel of gouda cheese is as predictable in our stocking as the quiche is for Christmas breakfast. Not this year. I'm very sad about this.

As usual, the kids cleaned up. Logan got every type of transportation device possible, including a bike, a skateboard, and a scooter. Of course, he was much more enamored with his Star Wars toys. Makinley got multiple loud, noise making toys. Nancy and I always make it a point to give the kids the loudest, most obnoxious toys we can find. This year, we got Makinley an entire Bee Bop Band worth of noisy musical instruments, and we got Brynna the singing, dancing, joke-telling Elmo Live.

We scored a pretty good haul ourselves. Enough to fill up the entire back of Nancy's Santa Fe. The only gift I got that I didn't like was the box of Kleenex Laura and Scott gave me, with a note so cleverly included that reads, "Thought you might need these after this season of Aggie Football." Funny. Very funny. Oddly enough, the box wasn't opened. I figured at least a few of them would have been used over the past two years when their team got beat by our sad little team. But it makes sense. Between those two butt-whoopings and all their crying about OU going to the Big XII championship instead of them, I bet they used a whole box...so they had to buy us a new one.

All in all, it was a great Christmas, as they always are at our house. It was fun watching Logan and Brynna make our living room look like a small tornado had gone through. And watching Makinley take in all the sights and sounds and craziness of her first Christmas.

Now it's on to Part 2 on Saturday. There are two more little tornadoes just waiting to make a similar mess of Brandl and Danielle's living room. And Nancy and I, with our loud, obnoxious gifts in hand, wouldn't miss it.

A Hunting we will go

Well, it's here. One of my favorite weekends of the year. The weekend we go to Kerrville and go deer hunting on Nancy's parents' ranch. It's a blast just hanging out, drinking some beer with good friends and family. And I can't thank Paul and Doris enough for letting me come out, and even bring some friends from time to time. I know my friends, and allowing them to come is no easy thing to say yes to.

The ranch is awesome. It's got a nice heated cabin with real beds and a real toilet. We hunt out of box blinds while sitting in cushioned chairs. We ain't exactly roughing it. Nancy knows that the fact that her parents let me go hunting there is the real reason I married her. Well, that and she is kinda cute. She even likes to hunt. She killed a deer long before I ever did.

Last year my parents got to come out, and we had a lot of fun. My Dad likes to hunt, but we have never had a place to really go hunting in Texas. My parents know that I have had "deer lease" on my Christmas list since I was 12, so they approved of Nancy right away. Derrick and Scott also got to come out last year. And we shockingly didn't even run out of beer.

This weekend, Derrick and Tiffany are coming down on Friday night, and Bjorn is coming to hang out on Saturday. This might be the weekend we finally run out of beer.

The cool thing about killing a deer is that we don't have to buy meat for a year afterwards. Our freezer full from last year is finally dwindling down, so I am going to try to find a nice fat doe to volunteer to be a year's worth of hamburger, sausage and jerky. Hopefully Derrick will find one to shoot this year. Last year, he saw a bunch on the first hunt, but not wanting to kill his deer on the first day, let them go. He never saw them again. I bet if he sees one on the first day this year, he mans up and pulls the trigger.

Anyway, we are all packed up and ready to go. The rifles are sighted in and loaded up. The beer is on ice. I've even got a relief vet to cover for me on Saturday. I can't wait.

I know I said I was going to shoot a doe...but when I look into the future, for some reason this is what I see:


I think the doe is much more likely.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Nancy loves to decorate for Christmas. She goes all out...and now that we have a bigger house to decorate, she's really going nuts. And this is the first year that we have a tree. I know it's odd, but with all her decorating she has never had a Christmas tree. The only problem that I have with her Christmas decorating is that it starts somewhere right around Labor Day. And we finally take it down no later than the Fourth of July.

It's not just the decorating either. We have to listen to Christmas music non-stop as soon as they start playing it on the radio. Which I think with XM is around Halloween at the latest. I have found that the only way to get the station changed is to loudly sing Silent Night in German along with every song. The combination of my awful singing voice, the fact that I am singing a different song than what is playing on the radio, and the fact that I am singing it in very poor German (barely retained from a Lorena High School German Club Christmas play 15 years ago) is just enough to get her to change it.

Of course, I then have to listen to Cosmo (as in the tastefully done women's magazine) radio. But I guess listening to sex advice from a teenage radio DJ is better than hearing Jingle Bells for the 403rd time in a week before November is even over. Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. I always have. I just don't think I love it quite as much as she does. I don't think anyone loves it quite as much as she does. I think even Jesus Himself, by about December 10th would be like, "I'm flattered. Really, I am. But can we listen to the game?"

When we go shopping for Christmas decorations (this really goes for any house decorations), I am really a lot of help. Nancy uses me to rule out decorating possibilities. It's pretty simple, really. If I pick it up off the shelf, and say, "Hey, what about this one?"...then it automatically goes into the NO column. By the time we are done, and I have suggested every (candle, Christmas tree, set of lights, yard decoration...whatever) but one, then that is the one that we buy. It never fails. I'm glad my taste in women is better than my taste in decorating.

Just a side note...we seem to have completely eradicated our garage mouse problem. I think my brutal execution, via broom handle, of the last mouse to get stuck to our glue trap sent a message to all the others that I am not playing around anymore. Final Score: Randy 5, Mice 2.

On to the pictures. I think she did a great job with the decorating. Just don't underappreciate my role in the final product.

Yes, I am still alive and Mouse Wars

Well, I decided to write again after a long layoff. Not because I have anything important to say, but mainly because I was getting tired of having my cute little niece flipping the bird at the top of my page.

Nancy got to see her a couple of weekends ago while she was in Austin. I still haven't seen her since the week she was born, so I'm looking forward to seeing her again on Thanksgiving. How am I going to be a bad influence on her if she doesn't even know who I am?

We have been going to College Station on all of the home football weekends, so we have been staying pretty busy watching our sad, pathetic excuse for a football team. It's still a lot of fun to get to go act like a college student again for a day 6-7 times per year. The group has dwindled a lot this year, due to our team's ineptness on the field. Most of them are bandwagoners who will act like the biggest fans in the world when the team is winning, but are nowhere to be found when we are not. If you can't stand behind your team in the bad times, you won't enjoy the good times as much. That's what we keep telling ourselves, at least. However, if the cesspool that is Texas Tech University wins a national championship this year, I may have to swear off college football altogether. I could not handle such a thing. I guess there's always the Houston Texans to fall back on. Wait, that would be even worse. Between the Aggies, the Texans, and the Astros...it has not been a banner year for our sports teams.

In other news, the vacant land next to our neighborhood is now being leveled and prepped for another section of homes to start going up. One consequence of bulldozing that land is that it has forced many a mouse from his home. I went to take the trash out one night and saw a mouse scurry across the garage floor. Then I made the mistake of telling Nancy about it. From her perch high atop the chair she got on within 2.3 seconds of my sharing the mouse sighting, Nancy screamed at me to do something about it...NOW. The only problem was, "now" was 11 pm, and I am not a cat, nor do I keep mouse traps on hand for this type of situation. So I was "urged" to make a late night trip to the store in search of some sort of mouse getting-rid-of apparatus. I returned with two packages of trusty old-fashioned mouse traps.

I put the squeezy cheese on the trigger and attempted to set the traps. Unfortunately, the traps did not like to stay set and I nearly lost a finger about eight times. I'm guessing that would not be good for my surgery business. Finally, after wrestling with the stupid thing for 20 minutes, as well as a good bit of cussing, I finally got two traps to stay set long enough to put them in the corners of our garage.

The next morning, I fully expected to find the little booger dead as a doornail in one of the traps. Then I would dispose of him and my wife could get down out of the chair. However, it was not to be. You see, despite the fact that the traps have such a hair trigger that I nearly amputated my finger every time I looked at it sideways, the mouse somehow managed to eat every last drop of the squeezy cheese off both of the traps without setting them off. Nancy, from atop her chair, so cleverly exclaimed "Mouse 1, Randy 0". So I tried it again the next night. Same result. Mouse 2, Randy 0.

I had opted for the traditional mouse trap on my late-night field trip to Kroger, instead of the glue traps, because I figured it would be a much quicker way for the little bastard to die. But now I was mad. No more humane treatment for this guy. So Plan B, the glue traps, were strategically placed throughout the garage. I knew now that it was only a matter of time before I got him. Except it wasn't him, as it turned out...it was them. Five so far. All about three inches long, head to tip of tail (But to hear Nancy describe them, they are rats the size of small possums). One even struggled so mightily against the glue trap that he peeled off his own skin. That was interesting. It has been three nights since we have caught any mice...so Nancy is down out of the chair. For now.

Makinley

Laura loves to video Makinley and post it on her blog. It is fun to watch these videos, especially since we don't ever actually get to see her. However, I think Makinley may be getting a little tired of all the videotaping that Laura and Scott are doing. Here is a screenshot from the 0:41 second mark of her latest video. http://www.lebigham.blogspot.com/ You be the judge.

She's already got a little attitude. I like it.

Hurricane Ike

Things have certainly been interesting here the past 36 hours.

I hope everyone in the Houston/Galveston area who reads this blog is doing okay after Ike. I know many of you are without power. Anyone who still doesn't have electricity is welcome to come and stay with us as long as you need to. Also, if you need some help picking up debris or making repairs, please call me.

We feel very blessed and lucky to have come out of this with minimal damage. The Fitz stood up to Ike well. Even our landscaping somehow survived. We never lost power for more than a few seconds, which puts us in the lucky 1% in the Greater Houston area. We went this morning to check on the clinic, which is further east than we are in Katy. We saw alot of relatively minor damage on the way--like downed trees, fences and lots of dangling stoplights. The clinic was thankfully spared from any major damage. there was some minor flooding in my office, but the three dogs that were boarding with us are doing great. We even had power back on by the time we got there.

Those in the Galveston and Clear Lake areas weren't as lucky as we were. We have heard secondhand that our family in that area are doing okay, and we hope that is true. They know that if they need anything, including a place to stay, or get out of the heat, or just take a shower...our doors are always open.

I am somewhat of a weather geek, so you can ignore this part if you want to. It was amazing that Ike became so much better organized and strengthened right before landfall. If he'd had another 24 hours over open water, he would have likely been a Cat 4 or 5 hurricane, which would have wiped out everything from Galveston to Pt. Arthur. The sheer size of Ike made his area of damage much greater than your average hurricane, but it also kept him from strengthening as much as he could have. Just look at the two pictures below. The one on the left is from Friday afternoon, about 12 hours prior to landfall. The eye is ragged and poorly organized, with relatively weak echoes in the eyewall. The one on the right is from 3-4 hours prior to landfall. You can see the eye has contracted down and is very symmetrical, with much stronger echoes in the eyewall, which is a sign of strengthening. If he had done this 24 hours before landfall, it would have been a whole different story. Not that it wasn't bad enough as it was.

We got estimated 70 mph winds with 80 mph gusts in Katy, and we were 40 miles from the eye. That tells you just how big this thing was. I have never seen winds like that. It just howls and makes the house creak and moan. And the rain is literally going sideways. The worst of it came between 4 am and 7 am. I really have no idea how our electricity stayed on. I shot a video once it was daylight, but by then the winds were only 40 mph with 55 mph gusts.

Pray for all those affected much more than we were.

Fixed it For You

My sister Laura posted a very cute picture of our niece Makinley on her blog. She went to her first tailgate party this weekend, which is very cool. However, they decided to dress her in a horrid burnt orange ensemble for some reason. As you can tell by this photo, in which she is clearly giving the "Gig 'Em Aggies" hand sign, she was protesting her parents' choice of clothes in her own silent way. Sort of like the U.S. Soldier in that photo where he is shaking Hillary Clinton's hand, but has the fingers on his other hand crossed, as a subtle protest.

With her clear allegience to her Aunt Nancy and Uncle Randy's alma mater, I took the liberty to fix the photo to reflect what Makinley so obviously would have preferred.

Gig 'Em, Makinley. Fightin' Texas Aggie Class of '30.