A Christmas story

I hit the snooze bar on my alarm this morning. It's kind of like going in debt. You have to work really hard to catch back up. I went into the bathroom and looked at the nature of my hair. I'd like to do a study on bed head some time. Just take a photo of how wierd and different I look each morning, but I don't think the world is ready for that.

I needed to wrap the present I got for that employee from Vietnam for our gift exchange at work. The only sharp object I could find to cut the wrapping paper with was my hunting knife. It gave a whole new meaning to cut and wrap.

I drank some Folgers Coffee that I made in my bottom of the line Mr. Coffee machine. I thought to myself that brown would be a much better color for a coffee maker than white. At least for people like me.

It was snowing on my way to work, and I remembered driving to Spokane from Bozeman to spend Christmas at my sisters house with my family when I was in school. We had all agreed to meet there. The house was colder than Bozeman. My brother-in-law was trying to save on the gas bill. On Christmas morning he had a fire in the fire place, but he closed the glass doors explaining how it heated the house better. When he closed the doors the fire became just a vision of heat.

We then started to open gifts. I guess my mom and dad had been in some art store and my mom had seen an oil painting done by one of her friends. It was a painting of a mountian lake. Mom had said that she liked that painting but I think only because she knew the lady who painted it. Without her knowing, my dad had purchased the painting. When she opened up the package she was surprised. Not exactly what she had expected. She thanked him and then she stood it up agaisnt the end table next to the sofa.

The end table had a really sharp point on the corner and it tore right throught the center of the canvas. Then my mom started to cry.

We all tried to console her and dad said he would get her another but nothing helped. Our hearts sank.

"My friend will come over and she will see!" It was horrible. We all felt so bad.

"I can fix it" I said. "I know an artist who restores paintings and we will fix it. Don't worry mom." Well I did know an artist who restored paintings but I doubted he would disclose his secrets to me without just paying him to do it. But I explained the situation and he told me how to repair it. Then I did have to re-paint the torn section but in all honestly you couldn't tell it had ever been torn.

Eventually the woman who did the painting came over to visit my mom and looked right the painting and didn't say anything. I doubt very seriously that she would ever be able to tell and you wouldn't even look if you didn't know it had been torn. The tear was about 4 inches long and I had to fill a large area and then repaint. Her style and pallet was actually really easy to emulate. She didn't use any glazes or anything. So it all woked out in the end.

A happy ending to my Christmas story. Now the painting has special meaning to us. I guess the guy from Vietnam liked the flashlight I gave him. It's a Maglite so I don't think he can break it. If he does, I'll get him another one. They are only $10.

Merry Christmas.

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The tear in the painting goes horizontally through the sky and mountains. It isn't where you think it is looking at this photo. Click on it to enlarge.