We’re going low key this Christmas. After several years–more than several, like 12, 13–of doing three different celebrations, one at our alternate family, one with my parents and one with Caroline’s family, we finally cried uncle. We get to relax sometimes, right?

So we put out the call: We’ll be hosting Christmas Dinner this year!

Does that stress others out? It could I guess, but for a kitchen control freak like me, it means that I know that everything will taste good and Caroline and I won’t miss out on specific holiday treats or have to leave our dogs alone all day to choke on a loose ribbon or something left after the present apocalypse that happens on Christmas morning.

That’s not to say there’ll be lots of presents or even that they’re under the tree. Smokey (seen here in his cute disguise) has taken to chewing up paper and spraying urine like a Bellagio fountain show while the other two watch and probably applaud in their doggie way.

So after I finish writing this I’ll be wrapping up the last of the presents, tidying a bit and then settling in to a circuit of cooking and writing. What goes great with Yams? Demonic sexual antics, of course. But time’s running out. Caroline will be home at 3:30 today, Mass is at 5, I’ve got to hurry.

But I’ll leave you with a couple of my favorite holiday songs and this year’s card, straight from Amanda’s cold dead heart…

Gotta love Kate. I mean it. You have to. Something bad happens if you don’t. I’m sorry to inform you, it’s not like I make the rules. That goes for Chrissy, too…

That’s it. I’m out y’all!