27 Years. in The Big, Blue, House. Year two.

As of 6:25 this morning, from the day I met Don. And since the tree was in the living room anyway, and we were getting each other gifts anyway, it seemed only reasonable to put them under said tree:

I got him a bunch of stuff from his Amazon and Ebay lists. Nothing extravagant, I’m saving that for Yule. There’s a nice winter hat, a big silver ring, some Jasmine tea, some anise oil, an Egyptian coin, a new tea ball, and an altar cloth with two ravens on it. I got him eleven things, he got me six, with similar total dollar amounts.

Thanks to my father, I always think gifts under a tree should be piled up. So I tend to go for quantity over quality. If I get him something particularly expensive, I’ll have a bunch of cheap things to go with it, just to give him more to unwrap.

When my father was alive, and the four of us would celebrate the Solstice, (Christmas to you normal people), presents would literally be stacked all over the living room. We’d run out of room under the tree, and sit them on the end tables and beside the television. (Good times. Back when I was still operating under the illusion that my mother actually liked me.)

Anyway! The one human being who does like me has been my stalwart companion for twenty seven years today. And that’s pretty cool.

December, 1999: