The Holiday Blender

Well, it's no big shock, but, hey, we didn't do so hot at documenting our holidays. It's no secret: our staff photographer, Sleepy Carl, is a slacker. But he has his charms, you just have to get to know him.

So this is what we've got, all whirled together like Sunday leftovers at the Schmidt house [Seriously, ask Brian]. Let's kick it off with.

HALLOWEEN
This year, our costumes were admittedly lackluster [and therefore not photoworthy], even if they were admirably lifelike: Holly as a hot pregnant woman, and me as a better-looking, less-talented version of Glen Hansard.

Our nephews Joseph and Nathan had All Hallow's Eve a little more dialed in.



THANKSGIVING IN IDAHO
We went up to my old stomping grounds– the former Bennion Boys Ranch– just outside Victor, Idaho and spent a few days with our Jacobsen side, right in the shadow of the Tetons. If you look closely, you can see a fence I helped build, some fields in which I used to move irrigation pipe, and Table Rock, probably my all-time favorite hike.



There was an awful lot of Guitar Hero. Despite her early reservations, even Holly got into it, rocking the whammy bar and melting faces on more than a couple barn-burning versions of Slow Ride. My sister Sarah [getting a quick lesson from our resident Steve Vai] also got into the act, leading climactically to one of the greatest head-to-heads of the weekend.





We ate so much. We. Ate. So. Much. I guess that's what gratitude is all about. In a much more civil version of the Great Yam War of 05, we had both Holly's grandma's marshmallow yams and the traditional yams and apples of my youth.




The long Thanksgiving table. Thanks to Uncle Dick and the Ranch for accomodating all of us so warmly and comfortably.



Behind the lodge, there's a little pond that ices over in winter, our own private ice rink. It was pretty cool to have very our own little Teton ice rink. Lots of skating pictures from a gorgeous day.

Holly gets her skates and game face on [also pictured: Sven Nowitzki and High School Musical On Ice.]


An open invitation to Katarina Witt to come and learn the meaning of "soul-crushing defeat."



Hannah trying to figure out how to pull a Tasmanian Devil on ice.


Jane cools down.


Holly patiently awaits the formation of the WNHL. I had to remind her that she's pregnant, and to tone it down. Really. She started checking 9-year olds into the fence and had to be put into the penalty box at least twice for high-sticking the cameraman.


Three of the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse [Katie was warm in Arizona.] Don't let their size or sunny demeanor fool you, they will destroy you and everything you hold dear.


Not pictured: Courtney's choreographed synchronized skating routine with all the nieces. This picture will have to be the impostor that suffices.


And us with me, as usual, trying really hard not to ruin the picture.


Also not pictured: our own private cabin, some games of Rummikub and Mafia, the epic struggle between Holly and me to convince the Mafia-players who was good and bad. I almost tipped them. But Holly could be in Heroes, with her powers of persuasion.

CHRISTMAS IN FLAGSTAFF
Holly's sister's family invited us to spend Christmas with them at their cabin in Flagstaff. It was perfect: we got a White Christmas and, for it to be any more laid back, we would've had to self-induce comas.

We flew into Phoenix and drove up to Flagstaff, listening to Adrian Peterson choke my fantasy football championship to death. Well, at least we were driving a red Pontiac.


On Christmas Eve Day [is that Christmas Adam, or is that the day before?], we ate so much food. And, yes, we apparently do that on every special occasion we can. Wil & Nicole took us to an Italian place where we feasted for a couple hours. And created two doughnasaurs. We couldn't decide if baking them or throwing them out into the snow was more historically accurate, so we thought we'd sic Darwin on them, let a little natural selection sort it out.




We also did some sledding.

Parley got my photography reflexes warmed up.


And Bo's picture reaped the benefits.


Parley & Rebecca lead us through some jingly carols, in front of the stockings, hung by the chimney with care. We read/acted out the Nativity, the kids opened their pajamas, and we all got snug in our beds.


Christmas morning was awesome. Holly cooked up ableskivers and creme brulee french toast and some sausage. We are eaters, ok? We played lots of Uncle Patrick's new Wii. I was good at tennis and terrible at bowling. Somehow that rings true. A couple days later we left and, realizing we took too few photos, OVERCOMPENSATED. It's like sleep: you can't make it up.

The Cardon kids.


Holly & Nicole


Nicole & Ruby


Just Ruby


On the way home, we drove through beautiful and hippie Sedona. It was awesome and hardly even smelled like pitchouli.

Holly has recently assumed pilot duties, as pregnancy has brought out carsickness in wonderful ways that we have decided not to tempt.


Lots of Sedona, not exactly done justice by a) my photography skills, and b) the prowess of our not-all-that trusty camera.






We met our friends Cory, Jenna, and baby Calvin at Tia Rosa's for some of the best food you'll ever eat way too much of. But of course we didn't snap a single photo. Why would we?

NEW YEAR'S EVE
Holly got sick which threw a stick into the spokes of our New Year's plans with our friends the Mills and Bowens. We ended up sadly cancelling our dinner reservations but made the best of it, getting some Sawadee takeout and watching a whole lot of Season 1 of Heroes. Fortunately, we have the coolest friends around, and they still came to hang out until midnight, when we all TOTALLY GOT THE MOST WICKED CARBONATION BUZZ from Martinelli's sparkling apple-grape juice. DUDE, it was CRAAAAZY. Kristin got so buzzed that she started talking loony about the evil of the Boy Scouts. I couldn't make this up.

Pictures? Are you crazy?

Consider it a New Year's resolution.