It's Boxing Day and I'm at the farm where I grew up. Yesterday my brother Malcom, his wife Sandra and their (adult) children--Scott and Tanya--hosted most of the Campbell side of the family here. There were 25 people, including lots of small children, which was great fun. I helped with preparations, which gave my legs lots of exercise moving things up and down the stairs. The basement was the only part of the house that was big enough to seat everyone. December 24 was my birthday. David and I drove out from Saskatoon and had lunch here (or "dinner", if I revert to my rural roots) before David drove to lead Christmas Eve services in Shellbrook and Leask. He's coming back to the farm today; then we'll drive down to Regina Beach to visit my sister Brenda and her partner Greg, who were also here yesterday. I'll take a bus back to Saskatoon from there--because I have to finish packing my stuff at work before the Saskatoon Open Door Society moves--and David will drive down to Minot, North Dakota to visit friends he went to university with. I usually go with him. When I told him that I couldn't go this time, he said, "Well, I might as well not go. It's YOU they want to see, anyway." He was joking, at least to some extent!

Some useless information for you:

"A Jordanian company has set a world record by making the biggest box of paper tissues, according to the 2004 Guinness Book of World Records. The box, produced by the local company "Fine", measures 2.45 metres (eight feet) by 1.22 metres (four feet) by 0.73 metres (two and a half feet)."

Today I'm going to start sorting through--and "weeding" as much as possible--the stuff that I've accumulated at work (Saskatoon Open Door Society) because we're moving next week. I did a round of weeding about a year ago, but I've been putting off this round. A deadline to have my things packed for the move is a great incentive.

"YOU CAN ONLY HAVE BLISS IF YOU DON'T CHASE IT." - Bhante Henepola Gunaratana, "Mindfulness in Plain English"

"It is always difficult to know how human beings really live. If you describe it, you often appear to be a humorous writer, even if you have merely reported exactly what happened." - Anthony Powell