Glad to see the Corner’s been bopping along nicely these past couple of days. It’s been wall-to-wall Christmas here in south Brooklyn, and we’re finally settling down to take a breather before hopping on the plane tomorrow to go visit fambly down South. We had a fine Christmas here. A friend from DC came to spend it with Julie, Matthew and me. Matthew got his Santa loot early Christmas morning, and we all went to 11 a.m. mass. We came home in the cold rain, which by mid-afternoon had turned to snow. But we didn’t notice, because we were burrowed into our hobbit-hole basement apartment, cooking up a storm. Man, did we eat well: roasted pork loin stuffed with herbs and prosciutto, herb-roasted turkey, tomato and onion gratin, Vichy carrots, roasted potatoes with rosemary and garlic mayonnaise, and hot baguettes. We completely forgot the salad, but if there’s any time when being absent-minded about greenery is allowed, it’s Christmas dinner. We washed it all down with a nice bottle of Nebbiolo, and then had bourbon pound cake and coffee for dessert. And then promptly collapsed into a collective food coma. Bliss.

After sunset, my friend and I took Matthew out for a ride in his sled. We walked over to the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, right across the East River from lower Manhattan, which looked like a snow globe. A magical scene. After getting M. to bed later, we were all kind of Christmased out, and instead of watching seasonally appropriate fare, we put Annie Hall on, for something completely different. I haven’t seen it in years, and remembered the film fondly, but was surprised this time by how dated and spiritually empty it seemed. It was a melancholy way to end Christmas day, I must admit, thinking about how Woody Allen has thrown away his life and his career. Should’ve put on Hannah and Her Sisters.

Tomorrow: on to south Louisiana. There are three dozen oysters at Mike Anderson’s with my name on them. Plus, doesn’t tout le monde look forward to the LSU Tigers stomping a mudhole in the Texas Longhorns on New Year’s Day? Julie (UT ‘97) has poisoned our son’s mind by teaching him the “Hook ‘em Horns” hand signal. Deprogramming commences tomorrow.