This year, DrC and I have slipped gently, easily and comfortably into skeptism. Fortunately, skeptics can also be pagans as long as we don't actually have to believe in the Good Fairy, Mother Nature, or Any Other Capitalized Deity -- except, of course, the Flying Spaghetti Monster. We got to this point through a gentle but relentless campaign on the part of DrC's father in the realm of physics combined with beer... specifically Skeptics in the Pub. Through a friend (Steve) of a friend (alien), we met like-minded folk and starting thinking. Thinking is dangerous. Not thinking is also dangerous.

I love to mis-quote Einstein.

So in addition to the other wacky notions such as preparing for the pending zombie apocalypse, getting rid of all our stuff, and letting children play unsupervised on the deck of a boat, you can now add "ignoring the entire holiday season" to the list of Conger family transgressions on normal. We signalled our new conviction that Christmas is a waste of time, money, and emotional energy by getting in the van and driving off for three weeks. Turns out that in New Zealand, this is not a particularly radical notion. When Christmas and New Year fall gobsmack in the middle of summer, spending the two week holiday on the beach is pretty standard. I think DrC has us hiking up a mountain or repelling into a cave or something on Christmas Day. I had to remind him that the tour operators might be taking the day off.. you know... just for the heck of it? But turns out, not so much. Kiwis are pretty practical. Or they also agree that the reason for the season is to make money, a universal commercial consensus that appears to know no borders.

Before you go all "bah humbug" and presume to equate cynism with skepticism, I assure you that the Conger family plans to enjoy ourselves. Once again, we all made each other gifts to exchange on Yule as well as gathered little items for our Santa stocking stuffer extravaganza. DrC made soap this year, I made candy and rollagon organizers, Mera made pou (Maori dance balls), Aeron customized journals, and Jaime made designer t-shirts. I can't say we enjoy this process... inevitably Grandma Sue finishes in August, Mera in October, Aeron in November, DrC two weeks before Solstice, Toast the day before, and Jaime three weeks later. It's pretty stressful, to be honest. The competition. The pressure. The distilled sense of Obligation. On the other hand, it's only once a year. If this is what it takes to get the good doctor to make more soap, I think we're all willing to sacrifice.

This year's soap offering is oatmeal honey. Stuff smells fantastic and foams up nicely. Unfortunately, there is a bit too much oatmeal so it sort of falls apart when you use it. You have to gather it up and squish it back together again then set it on a dry spot in the shower until the next time. Soap -- With Instructions. For the first time, the soap is vegetarian made of canola oil rather than the usual lard. And as always, the only animals tested in the development process were our girls; They survived.

The stockings are hung
In the trailer with care
Stuffed with good candy
The children won't share
And wouldn't you know
The Congers are happy
Without all those trappings
Absent the sappy
We eat and we play
We hike and we swim
We drink large pint glasses
Filled up to the brim
And together each day
We thank fortune and fate
For the keys they have given us
To the happiness gate.

Enjoy the Holidays!

~ Toast