Here's hoping you and yours had a healthy and happy holiday season. Having been away from this bloggy beat for almost two weeks, it is time to get back up to speed, which, for me, as regular readers know, is about as fast as a wagon with one wheel in the sand. Here's what's been happening:

*I got a haircut. Yes, as mentioned in a prior bit of on-line bloggiosity, I had decided not to get my hairs cut until we were back in Wisconsin so my mom's husband, Gordy, could do the job. He has been clipping his way through life for 60 years. I don't think I could've gone much longer before needing the shearing. It got to the point that, waking up in the morning, I looked like I should be carrying two stone tablets down the side of a mountain. Gordy also made all three of the boys look presentable, again. It was particularly important to my mom that Gordy give me a good haircut, since I was scheduled to sing a solo at the 3:00 p.m. Christmas Eve service. After I was done singing, many folks came up to me and said "Didn't care much for the song but your hair looks nice."

*I sang a solo at church. As mentioned above, at the request of my mom, I sang O Holy Night at the church where I grew up. One of the nicest and most talented people around, Mrs. Staff, played the piano while I muddled my way through the beautiful carol. I ended up singing three verses in order to allow plenty of time for all the candles to be lit. The more I croaked along, the quicker the acolytes worked. They figured out that the faster they did their job, the sooner my caterwauling would be over. I understood, but I didn't think those three people in the front pew had to whip out their Bic lighters and start helping the robed kids. Also, the flame thrower from the choir loft was a bit over the top. Anyway, I got through the song and it appears my mom will only have to attend church in disguise for about another three Sundays.

*I have a very generous daughter. Up in my hometown, they have a new St. Vincent de Paul store. It is presided over by very attentive and orderly women who keep the place and the merchandise spotless. Well, our daughter, Samantha, went Christmas shopping there and came back with a pile of wonderful things, including a couple sweaters for grandma and a framed picture of hunting dogs for grandpa. She also got a Mother's Plate for her mom and a ceramic piano bill holder for me. She felt like Santa, himself! Not to be outdone, our sons gave me the keys to a 2003 Lexus. Not the car, just the keys. (I promise, as soon as I find out where they got them, I will return them.)

*I have brothers who actually read this stuff. On Christmas Eve morning, quite a bit of family showed up. One brother said "So, I'm the one with the giant head?" Another chimed in "And, I'm the one who smells like oranges." You see, some time ago, in previous blogs, I referred to them with those particular descriptions. They were good humored about it and, lacking a snow bank to throw me in, they merely held my head in the holiday ice bucket for a short time. It is amazing how fast their reaction times are at their very advanced ages.

*I was in a fog. When you drive to Wisconsin in the winter, you take your chances. Over the years, we've encountered our fair share of snow, ice, freezing rain, sleet and vomit. (The last was inside the van. Please see the story "Happy Hurl-idays.") But, this time, the only weather issue was some thick fog. While I'm sure I heard the hounds outside Baskerville, Iowa, howl at one point, it wasn't too bad. Certainly not like the last time when we were driving on a little country road as half-snow, half-ice, half-egg nog stuff was coming down. (Yes, I know, that's three halves but you had to be there.) As I was struggling mightily to stay out of the ditch, my lovely wife and reassuring co-pilot said "Oh, I forgot to tell you, the guys at the shop say three out four of our tires are bald...illegally bald, in fact." I drove the rest of the way trying to put the bulk of our weight on the left rear tire that still had, at least, a faint memory of what tread is like. This time we had good tires and help from Mother Nature. And, no regurgitation.

*I am becoming too fond of starting sentences with the word "I."

Well, that's just a start on getting caught up. I haven't mentioned everything. Like, the Christmas Cookie addiction that our dog seems to have developed or the possibility that my wife's 94 year old grandma beat me in arm-wrestling. But, it's a start. If you're holiday was anything like mine, we're both very lucky people.