Christmas Cards...

Christmas Cards...

I'm not a big writer of Christmas Cards. If you want one from me, you probably have to send one first. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but it is true.

I remember the huge pile of cards my parents used to get. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that they overflowed the big wooden butter bowl that now sits on top of my fridge. That's a lot of cards.

I get maybe half a dozen.

I hope this is a generational thing - a sign of the times - and not a reflection of any social failing on my part. But rereading that first paragraph it probably is a little of both.

So tonight I walked up to CVS and found the least ugly box I could find (I really should have bought the Chad Friesen sets Willard was selling at the Market on Saturday) and sat down and wrote a bunch. I'm afraid I wrote them by hand - meaning the recipients will have to decipher my hand writing.

The good side of that is that when you write them out by hand you really cut the bragging crap out. I do my best to make them personal and informative, but as I told my cousin Charles who already reads this blog: everything that is fit to print is already posted here - and the rest you just have to imagine.

So if you'd like a card, let me know. I'll be happy to oblige. I'll even brag, but you have to ask for that special.