Coldhands

          A new year is on us again, and the last one seemed over before it was properly begun. I finally went home. We sat around the Christmas tree -- it looks magnificent this year! -- and I opened my presents. I got a useful assortment of stuff, including snacks, personal care products, and a handsome forest green shirt. Many chocolate kisses entered my stomach. Everyone seems to be doing all right.
          Predictably, Brian and I decided to hang out after the long drought. We debated the merits of cleaning up the garage, since his brother always leaves it impossibly cluttered with engine parts and pieces of deer. Just moving stuff around was a doable proposition, but we balked at the smell of several garbage bags that were left in there to not-aerate. Instead, we snuck across the road, on to his neighbor's property and up a hill to sit on their porch swing. It overlooks the road coming from two directions, is blocked from the other side by the tree, and is generally just awesome. After a lengthy conversation, we became paranoid about the creaky branch the swing was mounted on; this led to a decision to go to Wal-Mart for foodstuffs. Brian paid for the alcohol, but I was asked for ID by an employee and had an awkward journey out to the car for it. We went back to my house, played PS2 with Ian, and I drank a new favorite cider called Smith & Forge. I was not paid for this or any other endorsement...