We are snuggled in the great room this morning in front of a roaring fire. I can't get warm, it seems, though we have the heavy blanket around us and hot tea. Coffee was over hours ago. It usually flows seamlessly into Lochlan's tea time though so don't worry.
We're reading gift idea lists for the people in your life. They are everywhere on the internet. Just everywhere. And they are so, so bad. It's like they were written by an AI that was tasked with learning about humans via adventure books from the early twentieth century.
For example, suggestions that appear near-constantly on every list for men between the ages of birth and oh, a hundred and fifty years are whiskey stones, an axe, a cheap pocket knife in a case with a handy belt loop and field notes, with a space pen. Sometimes drones, woolen scarves and a plasma lighter appear. A moka pot. A backgammon game, but for travel.
It seems the robots think men are huntsmen. Highly literate ones, at that.
It's okay though. Every list for women in her....ah...middle ages includes a watering can and an electric milk frother. A shimmery scarf with butterflies and an icing-decorating set, but in timeless stainless steel.
It's all so.. tone deaf. And I can't tell you exactly how many whiskey stones we own, for a house that's fully half in recovery, but apparently also filled with generic huntsmen, but there are a lot. Like mountains of them.
***
(Want to know what men really want for Christmas??
No, Jesus H. Not that. I mean for gifts. That they can open. In mixed comp- FINE, in front of their grandparents.
A blanket. The next year a snugglie. Then an Oodie the year after that. Something large, warm and very soft and comfortable. Something they can burrito in.
These are what they love. I promise. And they must have several different kinds of warm and cozy for different activities so that's why this will serve you for years.)