So we got up bright and early to make the almost 5 hour drive down to North Carolina.

 

                                                         Required Christmas selfie.

 

 

And as we were walking down the sidewalk of our resort it struck me…..

 

 

I might not be the only one who cursed my husband’s choice of the behemoth rental car.

It was an uneventful trip.

 

 

But we saw lots of cotton.

 

 

Really, a whole lot of cotton.

 

 

And absolutely nothing else. Nothing for miles and miles… except cotton… and I was starting to sweat the steadily dropping level of gasoline.

Behemoths be thirsty.

I also took issue with Apple maps when the GPS put us in the middle of a National Forest and told us to turn around.

 

 

WTF?

When the rental beast was pretty much running on fumes, we finally found a service station to fill it…. and us, since we skipped breakfast. The only choice was Subway, where I ordered a rotisserie chicken wrap and managed to leak half of the sauce on my blouse resulting in a large greasy stain.

My first words upon arrival in N.C. weren’t “Merry Christmas!”  but….. “Let me raid your closet.”

 

 

My second words were “What you would like to drink?”  as I unpacked my carton of holiday cheer.

Destiny chose a bottle to match her sweater, because coordination is everything.

 

 

We gave them our gifts…. and Gracie liked the books.

 

 

Though I think she liked the pig a little bit more.

 

 

We spent time with our daughter of the heart’s step children, John being home on leave from the Army.

 

 

As you can see they aren’t young enough to be hers…. because like me, she married an older man. Which her mother thinks I’m responsible for and never lets me forget, but hey.

It worked for me.

 

 

An old Marine Corps buddy of the husband’s came with us….  and it was a laid back country Christmas with lots of love and laughter.

A few highlights:

 

 

My bartending skills were highly rated.

 

 

And strange toys were questioned.

Does a llama really need to shake her booty?

But more importantly, why was this horror voted toy of the year in Australia?

Watch  the bizarre commercial that looks like a Saturday Night Live skit  and decide for yourself.

 

 

Numerous pictures were taken.

 

 

Some with prominently placed bows. (These may have been alcohol induced)

 

 

Rick posed with his namesake shirt.

 

 

Dogs with serious underbites begged for treats from a wonderful brown sugar glazed  ham dinner I completely devoured and forgot to photograph.

Sorry Martin.

Blame the carton of alcohol, not me.

 

 

Animated discussions of politics took place….. (Which might also have been alcohol induced)

 

 

But my husband smiled wider and laughed more than he has in a while, and that made my heart full.

 

Then before we were ready, it was time to say goodbye.

Hugs and tears….

 

 

 

And we were back on the road.

For the longest almost 5 hour trip ever.

 

 

The only bright spot?

 

 

This house…

 

 

That gave new meaning to the term holiday decorating.

 

 

Truly an extravaganza.