Tell me about your favorite christmas or funniest holiday , seasonal memory ?

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Offline Karen W.

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Well if you have a personal funny story or holiday memory be it winter or Christmas related.. Hanuka (spelling?) etc.. I would love to hear it!

Even some of your family traditions at this time of year.. like perhaps do you travel..? To where?
Special things like Story time on Christmas eve or what? Do you have routine things you like to indulge in at this time be it a book and a warm fire or what?

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Don_1

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Some years ago, just before Xmas, my Mrs insisted that the oven should be cleaned before the Turkey and so on were cooked.

Eeee how I hate that job!!! But 'she who must be obeyed' got her way.

A couple of days later, 't oven was ignited and 't Turkey prepared. But 't oven was not performing too well. Turning it off and letting it cool for a while (always a good prelude to this) I stuck my head in and realised that some residue of the oven cleaner was clogging the gas jets.

I stuck a magnetic rechargeable torch on the inside back panel, so I could see what I was doing, and with some hot water cleaned this residue from the manifold.

With 't oven now working properly, in went 't Turkey and we sat down for a well deserved coffee break. After about an hour, I noticed it was snowing..... BLACK SNOW...... INSIDE THE HOUSE. 'Strange', I thought and began to investigate this previously unknown phenomena as the Mrs looked around the room in amazement. It appeared to be issuing from the kitchen, more precisely the vents of the oven.

"OH!!! BUGGER!!!" I exclaimed.

"What? What?" Enquired 'er indoors "What is it?" She further enquired.

"I've left the *^*^ing torch in the ^*^*ing oven!!!"
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline dentstudent

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Some years ago, just before Xmas, my Mrs insisted that the oven should be cleaned before the Turkey and so on were cooked.

Eeee how I hate that job!!! But 'she who must be obeyed' got her way.

A couple of days later, 't oven was ignited and 't Turkey prepared. But 't oven was not performing too well. Turning it off and letting it cool for a while (always a good prelude to this) I stuck my head in and realised that some residue of the oven cleaner was clogging the gas jets.

I stuck a magnetic rechargeable torch on the inside back panel, so I could see what I was doing, and with some hot water cleaned this residue from the manifold.

With 't oven now working properly, in went 't Turkey and we sat down for a well deserved coffee break. After about an hour, I noticed it was snowing..... BLACK SNOW...... INSIDE THE HOUSE. 'Strange', I thought and began to investigate this previously unknown phenomena as the Mrs looked around the room in amazement. It appeared to be issuing from the kitchen, more precisely the vents of the oven.

"OH!!! BUGGER!!!" I exclaimed.

"What? What?" Enquired 'er indoors "What is it?" She further enquired.

"I've left the *^*^ing torch in the ^*^*ing oven!!!"

 [:D] [:D] [:D]

(FOG note: It should be t' oven, since the apostrophe is showing the removal of "he" from "the".)
« Last Edit: 16/12/2008 08:44:48 by dentstudent »

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Offline Don_1

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Thank you FOG, quite right, my mistake.
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline Karen W.

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Some years ago, just before Xmas, my Mrs insisted that the oven should be cleaned before the Turkey and so on were cooked.

Eeee how I hate that job!!! But 'she who must be obeyed' got her way.

A couple of days later, 't oven was ignited and 't Turkey prepared. But 't oven was not performing too well. Turning it off and letting it cool for a while (always a good prelude to this) I stuck my head in and realised that some residue of the oven cleaner was clogging the gas jets.

I stuck a magnetic rechargeable torch on the inside back panel, so I could see what I was doing, and with some hot water cleaned this residue from the manifold.

With 't oven now working properly, in went 't Turkey and we sat down for a well deserved coffee break. After about an hour, I noticed it was snowing..... BLACK SNOW...... INSIDE THE HOUSE. 'Strange', I thought and began to investigate this previously unknown phenomena as the Mrs looked around the room in amazement. It appeared to be issuing from the kitchen, more precisely the vents of the oven.

"OH!!! BUGGER!!!" I exclaimed.

"What? What?" Enquired 'er indoors "What is it?" She further enquired.

"I've left the *^*^ing torch in the ^*^*ing oven!!!"

Lol...hee hee hee hee Lol..thats really funny... Great story!!!  Thanks for sharing..... I did similar... a couple weeks before thanksgiving  at my daughters house burnt up her pan of cinnamon rolls , plastic spatula and a rubber handled spatula.. when I preheated the oven without checking inside first!

 Do you have anymore stories?

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Don_1

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Sad to say I have another.....

A couple of years ago, as we were going to be alone over the Xmas period (Ahhh! Bliss) we decided to book Xmas day dindins at a restaurant. Our local and favoured Indian restaurant had advertised a traditional English Xmas Day roast.

Speaking to one of the co-owners, it transpired that the whole affair had been suggested by and would be run by a regular performer at the restaurant, an Elvis impersonator. The alarm bells should have rang then!

Xmas Day came and we readied ourselves for our feast. Dropping in to the pub next to restaurant for a quicky, we proudly announced to our friends and neighbours our Xmas Day plans.

They were somewhat jealous of our impending comestible delights as they bade us Bon Appétit.

As we entered the restaurant, two of the regular waiters were on duty and welcomed us. "Where would you like to sit?" one enquired. We chose our table and made ourselves comfortable. The waiter presented me with the wine list and I decided on a nice bottle of Chablis.

As time went by, it became clear that there were only to be about 8 tables in use. The Elvis impersonator and his family arrived and sat themselves down in readiness.

'Odd' Thought I, this chappy was supposed to be running this affair, yet he has the appearance of one who has partaken of the intoxicating liquor a little more than desirable. The alarm bells began to ring.

Time continued it's relentless march.

I noticed the senior co-owner enter and speak to the waiters. He then went into the kitchen. A moment later he returned from the kitchen and spoke to the waiters again before making what appeared to be a hasty exit. The alarm bells were getting louder.

More time went by and the bottle of Chablis was looking decidedly low on content. I enquired of one of the waiters, who had just emerged from the kitchen, how much longer our haute cuisine delights would be. "The roast potatoes aren’t quite ready" he informed us, "but your starter is on its way".

More time went by and my stomach began to make some uncontrollable and unrequested, not to mention ungainly, sounds. At last the starters arrived, mini spiced spring rolls and mini onion bahjee. Not quite the traditional fare I was expecting, but food nonetheless.

‘Tempus fugit’ though I as the Chablis bottle ran dry. I looked across at the waiter. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled a face as if to say ‘Don’t blame me, I’m only the waiter, and no, the main course isn’t ready yet.’ The alarm bells cracked under duress.

Tempus had fugited to the tune of 2 hours and yours truly was somewhat disappointed, bleeding hungry and a tad pissed orff to say the least. The alarm bells fell off the wall.

Elvis and his family were four parts to the wind. I bade them a crappy Christmas and gave him detailed instruction on how to consume his turkey by-passing the alimentary canal and reaching the bowel instantaneously.

The waiters were most apologetic and handed us two more bottles of wine to take with us as we left. The other ‘diners’ (I use the term loosely since they too had had bugger all to satisfy their hunger) cheered as we made our escape.

As we walked home, we looked at each other in bewilderment. “We’ve nothing cooked.” Said the Mrs. “What are we going to have for Xmas dinner?” she wondered aloud. Upon reaching home, we opened a bottle of wine and sat watching the TV, getting slowly pissed and enjoying our Xmas Day dinner...... BLOODY HAM SANDWICHES.


And there's another to come, Christmas!!!! BAH HUMBUG!
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline Karen W.

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YAYYYYYYYYY!!!! wow... Yes I think I may have lost my patience as well!!

 Great story!!! Bravo.... more please..... you are a good story teller!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Don_1

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The last Xmas event I have to tell you about is last year’s fateful episode.

Firstly I must point out that a couple of years ago, ‘er indoors booked us on a November Egyptian holiday. A 7 day Nile cruise followed by 7 days at a Red Sea resort. Less than a week before we were due to depart on this adventure, the tour operator went down the plughole. After a frantic search I managed to re-book us with a similar holiday with another tour operator. Fortunately the original operator was ATOL bonded, so we got our money back.

And so to Xmas 2007. Once again, ‘er indoors booked us for a Christmas Holiday, this time the destination was to be the picturesque town of Schwarzwald in  Germany’s Black Forest.

‘Wunderbar!’, I thought, not only a great place to spend Xmas, but also a good opportunity for me to play with my new (as it was then) Nikon. I haven’t been to that part of the world for nigh on 30 years. We would be enjoying four days of German hospitality, not to mention bier and festive nosh, in a small family run hotel. After the previous year’s fiasco at the Indian restaurant, this was indeed something to look forward to.

I had my clothes ready, in the spare bedroom, to pack into a small suitcase and had persuaded the Mrs to go easy on her choice of attire to take with us. Indeed so successful had I been in this, that she had narrowed it down to just one mammoth sized trunk instead of the usual 40 ft. Container.

Dawn broke on the penultimate day before our departure. I arose from my slumber and put on the kettle. It didn’t fit, so I put on a dressing gown instead and used the kettle to boil some water for a cup of tea.

I turned on the radio just in time to hear ‘.... tour operator has gone into liquidation with some 40,000 booked holidays, many of which were Christmas and New Year breaks due to start today and tomorrow. A spokesman for ABTA said......” I turned off the radio and turned on the BBC 24hr news on TV.

Yep, ‘er indoors had booked another winner. The tour operator had just gone down the swanny, leaving us with nowt in t’ cupboard for Xmas. When I told the Mrs, she shot down the stairs and watched the news in disbelief. After a string of expletives, she picked up the Sunday paper and started searching for alternative arrangements. “PUT THAT DOWN!” I demanded, “You’ve already put the kybosh on two tour operators, you’re sending any more to Davy Jones’s locker.”
We and our daughter and her husband, who were to be joining us in our Black Forest excursion, spent the rest of the day franticly buzzing around packed supermarkets trying to stock up on Xmas fare and spent the holiday at our daughter’s home in Newport Pagnell, a nice little town, but hardly a substitute for the Black Forest.

Again, we got our money back, this time through the ABTA bond. But I couldn’t help but feel sorry for those poor hoteliers who had stocked up for their Xmas guests. Around 8,000 Xmas & New Year breaks went tits-up.
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline dentstudent

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I hope that any plans that you have for this year are less dashed!

Don, I'm curious as to the village that you were to visit. "Schwarzwald" as I'm sure you know is "Black Forest" in German, and to my knowledge there is not a village or town in the area with the same name. Do you recall?

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Offline Don_1

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I remember, at last, been trying to squeeze this out of the old grey matter for ages.

Oberhamersbach.
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline dentstudent

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I remember, at last, been trying to squeeze this out of the old grey matter for ages.

Oberhamersbach.
Well dug out, my old canoe!

Oberhamersbach. So good, they named it, well, once. Twice would have been an exuberance.

This is about 35 miles north of where I live.

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Offline Don_1

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Ah! Canoe recommend it then?

Oh no, not another thread degenerating into a pun slinging match!
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline dentstudent

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Sure - it's got some nice hotels, some traditional Black Forest farms and some very lovely walks. There is a certain degree of similarity within the BF village groups - I lived in Hinterzarten for 4 years which is a very beautiful little village. I would certainly recommend this for a trip. It's probably easier to get to; it has other sporting activities too, such as the summer ski-jumping world championships (believe it or not) and cycling marathons. It is also close to Freiburg for great nights out, and also close to the Feldberg, the highest "mountain" in the BF.

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Offline Karen W.

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The last Xmas event I have to tell you about is last year’s fateful episode.

Firstly I must point out that a couple of years ago, ‘er indoors booked us on a November Egyptian holiday. A 7 day Nile cruise followed by 7 days at a Red Sea resort. Less than a week before we were due to depart on this adventure, the tour operator went down the plughole. After a frantic search I managed to re-book us with a similar holiday with another tour operator. Fortunately the original operator was ATOL bonded, so we got our money back.

And so to Xmas 2007. Once again, ‘er indoors booked us for a Christmas Holiday, this time the destination was to be the picturesque town of Schwarzwald in  Germany’s Black Forest.

‘Wunderbar!’, I thought, not only a great place to spend Xmas, but also a good opportunity for me to play with my new (as it was then) Nikon. I haven’t been to that part of the world for nigh on 30 years. We would be enjoying four days of German hospitality, not to mention bier and festive nosh, in a small family run hotel. After the previous year’s fiasco at the Indian restaurant, this was indeed something to look forward to.

I had my clothes ready, in the spare bedroom, to pack into a small suitcase and had persuaded the Mrs to go easy on her choice of attire to take with us. Indeed so successful had I been in this, that she had narrowed it down to just one mammoth sized trunk instead of the usual 40 ft. Container.

Dawn broke on the penultimate day before our departure. I arose from my slumber and put on the kettle. It didn’t fit, so I put on a dressing gown instead and used the kettle to boil some water for a cup of tea.

I turned on the radio just in time to hear ‘.... tour operator has gone into liquidation with some 40,000 booked holidays, many of which were Christmas and New Year breaks due to start today and tomorrow. A spokesman for ABTA said......” I turned off the radio and turned on the BBC 24hr news on TV.

Yep, ‘er indoors had booked another winner. The tour operator had just gone down the swanny, leaving us with nowt in t’ cupboard for Xmas. When I told the Mrs, she shot down the stairs and watched the news in disbelief. After a string of expletives, she picked up the Sunday paper and started searching for alternative arrangements. “PUT THAT DOWN!” I demanded, “You’ve already put the kybosh on two tour operators, you’re sending any more to Davy Jones’s locker.”
We and our daughter and her husband, who were to be joining us in our Black Forest excursion, spent the rest of the day franticly buzzing around packed supermarkets trying to stock up on Xmas fare and spent the holiday at our daughter’s home in Newport Pagnell, a nice little town, but hardly a substitute for the Black Forest.

Again, we got our money back, this time through the ABTA bond. But I couldn’t help but feel sorry for those poor hoteliers who had stocked up for their Xmas guests. Around 8,000 Xmas & New Year breaks went tits-up.


That was really too bad! Your luck has not been so good eh? Any special plans this year That may be full proof? Hee hee!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline DoctorBeaver

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I remember when I was in New Zealand for Christmas some years ago. We were staying north of Aukland and the temperature was in the 90sF. On Christmas eve we went to a pub with an outdoor bar and there was a singer performing Christmas songs. I thought it somewhat ironic that we were sitting around in our shorts in the late evening with the crooner singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas"

CHristmas dinner on the beach was nice, though.
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Offline Karen W.

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I remember when I was in New Zealand for Christmas some years ago. We were staying north of Aukland and the temperature was in the 90sF. On Christmas eve we went to a pub with an outdoor bar and there was a singer performing Christmas songs. I thought it somewhat ironic that we were sitting around in our shorts in the late evening with the crooner singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas"

CHristmas dinner on the beach was nice, though.

 Lol..Lol.. that is cool..I bet it was nice... what did you all eat at the beach?

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline DoctorBeaver

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I remember when I was in New Zealand for Christmas some years ago. We were staying north of Aukland and the temperature was in the 90sF. On Christmas eve we went to a pub with an outdoor bar and there was a singer performing Christmas songs. I thought it somewhat ironic that we were sitting around in our shorts in the late evening with the crooner singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas"

CHristmas dinner on the beach was nice, though.

 Lol..Lol.. that is cool..I bet it was nice... what did you all eat at the beach?

Pig, sheep & cow. It was a traditional Maori hangi
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Offline JimBob

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Oh well,

When I was a kid, in the early '50 and the climate was very warm for several years, I had broken my foot late November a couple of days before Thanksgiving. I had a plaster cast up to my knees. Christmas Day was 85 and after presents and all, my brother and I were outside playing with one of them, I forget what, but we started feeding large red ants to an ant lion in the sand by the side of the street we lived on. No pavement then, either. But to get on with it - as we were playing I didn't know it but I had my feet in another ant mound - a meat eating ant that was smaller. The big red ants were big vegetarians. SO I was killing ants with my front end and being eaten by ants on the other end. I was accustomed to being bitten so I didn't pay much attention to it.

Well, about an hour later, just before the Christmas Dinner was ready, I noticed that my tows were turning blue. The ant bites were causing my leg to swell. My mom called the doctor on call and no one would come into the office to take the cast off. So I ate Christmas dinner while sitting on the front porch with my leg in a tub of water soaking the plaster cast off my leg. It was a week to soon but I was glad to get it off. The cotton underneath the plaster and the heat had cause a lot of discomfort.

Most STRANGE Christmas I can remember.
The mind is like a parachute. It works best when open.  -- A. Einstein

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Offline Carolyn

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Nine years ago, we had a semi-white Christmas here in Florida.  My husbands cousins came down from Michigan for a visit.  They pulled their camper and filled it full of ice chests filled with snow.

It was sunny and warm and we had all of our family, friends and neighbors were here having snowball fights in the front yard.
Carolyn

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Offline dentstudent

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JB - What's an "ant lion"?

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Offline Karen W.

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Ditto.. Whats an Ant lion???

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Karen W.

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OOOH That
I remember when I was in New Zealand for Christmas some years ago. We were staying north of Aukland and the temperature was in the 90sF. On Christmas eve we went to a pub with an outdoor bar and there was a singer performing Christmas songs. I thought it somewhat ironic that we were sitting around in our shorts in the late evening with the crooner singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas"

CHristmas dinner on the beach was nice, though.

 Lol..Lol.. that is cool..I bet it was nice... what did you all eat at the beach?

Pig, sheep & cow. It was a traditional Maori hangi

Sounds Yummy!.. We do the big underground feast similar to that every year  on Annie and Mary days here in Blue Lake... (celebration of the old train lines Annie and Mary)

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Karen W.

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Nine years ago, we had a semi-white Christmas here in Florida.  My husbands cousins came down from Michigan for a visit.  They pulled their camper and filled it full of ice chests filled with snow.

It was sunny and warm and we had all of our family, friends and neighbors were here having snowball fights in the front yard.

It sounds like a lot of fun to have the whole family come down! Snowball fights are fun unless they are packed to hard! LOL!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."


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Offline Karen W.

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AWWWWW That mean old Ant Lion!! BOO HOO!! It ate him!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline dentstudent

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If two ants ran away together, would it be one of these?

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Offline Karen W.

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Antelope??? Perhaps?

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline dentstudent

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Offline Karen W.

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Quite a pretty one actually! :)

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline DoctorBeaver

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When I was a kid, in the early '50

So you were around before the Civil War  [:P]
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Offline DoctorBeaver

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Oh well,

When I was a kid, in the early '50 and the climate was very warm for several years, I had broken my foot late November a couple of days before Thanksgiving. I had a plaster cast up to my knees. Christmas Day was 85 and after presents and all, my brother and I were outside playing with one of them, I forget what, but we started feeding large red ants to an ant lion in the sand by the side of the street we lived on. No pavement then, either. But to get on with it - as we were playing I didn't know it but I had my feet in another ant mound - a meat eating ant that was smaller. The big red ants were big vegetarians. SO I was killing ants with my front end and being eaten by ants on the other end. I was accustomed to being bitten so I didn't pay much attention to it.

Well, about an hour later, just before the Christmas Dinner was ready, I noticed that my tows were turning blue. The ant bites were causing my leg to swell. My mom called the doctor on call and no one would come into the office to take the cast off. So I ate Christmas dinner while sitting on the front porch with my leg in a tub of water soaking the plaster cast off my leg. It was a week to soon but I was glad to get it off. The cotton underneath the plaster and the heat had cause a lot of discomfort.

Most STRANGE Christmas I can remember.


You're lucky I'm not a FOG or I would be having a field day!  [:P]
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Offline Don_1

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But you are a FOG, go on FOG away, here's your starter for ten; On my feet, I've got TOES, what have you got?

(FOG)
« Last Edit: 19/12/2008 10:55:43 by Don_1 »
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline RD

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Dreaming of a white supremacist Christmas ?, then this product is for you ...

[attachment=5954]

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« Last Edit: 19/12/2008 14:36:32 by RD »

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Offline DoctorBeaver

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But you are a FOG, go on FOG away, here's your starter for ten; On my feet, I've got TOES, what have you got?

(FOG)

OK, if you insist:

"When I was a kid, in the early '50 " - should be "50s"
"I had broken my foot late November" - IN late November
"Christmas Day was 85 " - 85 what?
"No pavement then, either." - should have begun with "There was"
"a meat eating ant" - meat-eating
"It was a week to soon..." - too soon
"...the heat had cause a lot of discomfort." - caused

(MULTI-BLOODY-FOG)
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Offline Don_1

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Strewth, I can't see a damn thing for all this FOG!!!
If brains were made of dynamite, I wouldn't have enough to blow my nose.

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Offline JimBob

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JB - What's an "ant lion"?
Ditto.. Whats an Ant lion???

They are larvae of lace wings.

From Wiki - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ant_lion

From http://scienceblogs.com/clock/2006/08/the_mighty_antlion.php

t digs a pit in the send and hides underneath the sand right under the bottom of the pit. When an ant, or some other insect comes by, it falls into the pit and has trouble climbing out of its steep walls again. The ant-lion lunges out of the sand (like a scence from "Tremors") and eats the poor bug.

Now the really cool part: the volume of the pit is bigger when the antlion is hungrier (or so they say at this marvelous website that I highly recommend you browse around). But, hungry or not, the ant-lion digs a bigger pit when the moon is full. Nobody has any idea why that would be so. Here is a photograph of a colony of ant-lions, each with its own little pit: (Below, with ant lion)


But here is the coolest part of all. If you take ant-lions out of the field and put them in little sandboxes in the laboratory and isolate them from any cues about the outside world they will still dig bigger pits roughly every four weeks - they have an internal lunar rhythm.


They have, somewhere in their brains, a lunar clock that tells them to dig larger pits whenever the moon is full even if they cannot see the moon itself (e.g., on a dark cloudy night). If and when somebody figures out how this little brain works, I'll be sure to tell you all on my blog, but you may have to wait years for it - nobody is even thinking about studying it right now.


The mind is like a parachute. It works best when open.  -- A. Einstein

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Offline JimBob

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When I was a kid, in the early '50

So you were around before the Civil War  [:P]

yes

Oh well,

When I was a kid, in the early '50 and the climate was very warm for several years, I had broken my foot late November a couple of days before Thanksgiving. I had a plaster cast up to my knees. Christmas Day was 85 and after presents and all, my brother and I were outside playing with one of them, I forget what, but we started feeding large red ants to an ant lion in the sand by the side of the street we lived on. No pavement then, either. But to get on with it - as we were playing I didn't know it but I had my feet in another ant mound - a meat eating ant that was smaller. The big red ants were big vegetarians. SO I was killing ants with my front end and being eaten by ants on the other end. I was accustomed to being bitten so I didn't pay much attention to it.

Well, about an hour later, just before the Christmas Dinner was ready, I noticed that my tows were turning blue. The ant bites were causing my leg to swell. My mom called the doctor on call and no one would come into the office to take the cast off. So I ate Christmas dinner while sitting on the front porch with my leg in a tub of water soaking the plaster cast off my leg. It was a week to soon but I was glad to get it off. The cotton underneath the plaster and the heat had cause a lot of discomfort.

Most STRANGE Christmas I can remember.


You're lucky I'm not a FOG or I would be having a field day!  [:P]
But you are a FOG, go on FOG away, here's your starter for ten; On my feet, I've got TOES, what have you got?

(FOG)

OK, if you insist:

"When I was a kid, in the early '50 " - should be "50s"
"I had broken my foot late November" - IN late November
"Christmas Day was 85 " - 85 what?
"No pavement then, either." - should have begun with "There was"
"a meat eating ant" - meat-eating
"It was a week to soon..." - too soon
"...the heat had cause a lot of discomfort." - caused

(MULTI-BLOODY-FOG)

Betrayal ALWAYS comes back to haunt the betrayer.
The mind is like a parachute. It works best when open.  -- A. Einstein

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Offline JimBob

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Strewth, I can't see a damn thing for all this FOG!!!

I believe you did originally bring up the subject so quit your bitching.
The mind is like a parachute. It works best when open.  -- A. Einstein

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Offline Karen W.

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JB - What's an "ant lion"?
Ditto.. Whats an Ant lion???

They are larvae of lace wings.

From Wiki - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ant_lion

From http://scienceblogs.com/clock/2006/08/the_mighty_antlion.php

t digs a pit in the send and hides underneath the sand right under the bottom of the pit. When an ant, or some other insect comes by, it falls into the pit and has trouble climbing out of its steep walls again. The ant-lion lunges out of the sand (like a scence from "Tremors") and eats the poor bug.

Now the really cool part: the volume of the pit is bigger when the antlion is hungrier (or so they say at this marvelous website that I highly recommend you browse around). But, hungry or not, the ant-lion digs a bigger pit when the moon is full. Nobody has any idea why that would be so. Here is a photograph of a colony of ant-lions, each with its own little pit: (Below, with ant lion)


But here is the coolest part of all. If you take ant-lions out of the field and put them in little sandboxes in the laboratory and isolate them from any cues about the outside world they will still dig bigger pits roughly every four weeks - they have an internal lunar rhythm.


They have, somewhere in their brains, a lunar clock that tells them to dig larger pits whenever the moon is full even if they cannot see the moon itself (e.g., on a dark cloudy night). If and when somebody figures out how this little brain works, I'll be sure to tell you all on my blog, but you may have to wait years for it - nobody is even thinking about studying it right now.




Thanks Stuart and Jimbob!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline JimBob

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This is an article submitted to a  1999  Louisville Sentinel contest
to find out who had the wildest Christmas  dinners. It won first prize. 


As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill
them.
 
What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because
every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings overflowed, his poor
pantyhose hung sadly empty. 

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and
went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell  those things at
Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. 

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse
yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, 'What does this do?'
'You're kidding me!' 'Who would buy that?' Finally, I made it to the
inflatable doll section. 

I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also
substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane
during rush hour. 

Finding what I wanted was difficult. 'Love Dolls' come in many
different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box,
could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled
for 'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale. 

To call Louise a 'doll' took a huge leap of imagination. 

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came
to life. 

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning
hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled   the dangling
pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies
and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went
home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the
dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and
bark some more. 

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of
the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional
Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. 'What
the hell is that?' she asked.

My brother quickly explained, 'It's a doll.'

'Who would play with something like that?' Granny snapped. 

I kept my mouth shut.

'Where are her clothes?' Granny continued.

'Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,' Jay said, to steer her into
the dining room.  But Granny was relentless. 'Why doesn't she have any teeth?' 

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no
one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, 'Hang on Granny,
hang on!'

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up t o
me and said, ' Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?'

I told him she was Jay's friend.

A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise.
Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized
this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,
who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a
noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning.

Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell
in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa
ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. 

My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. 

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the
car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had
suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her
to perfect health.

I can't wait until next Christmas
The mind is like a parachute. It works best when open.  -- A. Einstein

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Offline DoctorBeaver

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Fledgling science site at http://www.sciencefile.org/SF/content/view/54/98/ needs members and original articles. If you can help, please join.

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Offline RD

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Jimbob should sue John Sullivan for breach of copright ... http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=RfyWfvNz9Z0&feature=related

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Offline Karen W.

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This is an article submitted to a  1999  Louisville Sentinel contest
to find out who had the wildest Christmas  dinners. It won first prize. 


As a joke, my brother Jay used to hang a pair of panty hose over his
fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill
them.
 
What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because
every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings overflowed, his poor
pantyhose hung sadly empty. 

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and
went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell  those things at
Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. 

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse
yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, 'What does this do?'
'You're kidding me!' 'Who would buy that?' Finally, I made it to the
inflatable doll section. 

I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also
substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane
during rush hour. 

Finding what I wanted was difficult. 'Love Dolls' come in many
different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box,
could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled
for 'Lovable Louise.' She was at the bottom of the price scale. 

To call Louise a 'doll' took a huge leap of imagination. 

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came
to life. 

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning
hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled   the dangling
pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies
and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went
home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his
house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the
dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and
bark some more. 

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of
the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional
Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. 'What
the hell is that?' she asked.

My brother quickly explained, 'It's a doll.'

'Who would play with something like that?' Granny snapped. 

I kept my mouth shut.

'Where are her clothes?' Granny continued.

'Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,' Jay said, to steer her into
the dining room.  But Granny was relentless. 'Why doesn't she have any teeth?' 

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no
one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, 'Hang on Granny,
hang on!'

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up t o
me and said, ' Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?'

I told him she was Jay's friend.

A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise.
Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized
this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,
who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a
noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning.

Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell
in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa
ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering
mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. 

My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. 

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the
car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to
decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had
suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her
to perfect health.

I can't wait until next Christmas



LOL... LOL... LOL ...I love that! Priceless!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

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Offline Karen W.

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Jimbob should sue John Sullivan for breach of copright ... http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=RfyWfvNz9Z0&feature=related

That was hilarious... YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Thanks for the laughs!!!

"Life is not measured by the number of Breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."