Merry Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the garages
Not a motorcycle was rumbling, except for Santa Claus's;
The leather was hung in the closet with care
In hopes that nice weather, soon would be there.
Our bikes were all nestled snug in their covers
With visions of blacktop and burning up rubber.
With momma in her bandana and I in my skull cap
We had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn, arose such a rumble
I sprang from the bed as I started to grumble,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But, a pack of motorcycles, with riders and gear,
With one old driver so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be Biker Nick,
He was dressed all in Leather, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with bugs and road soot,
A bundle of chrome he had flung on his back
Down the chimney he came, carrying a big red sack,
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
As he filled all the riding boots, then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose,
He sprang to his motorcycle, to his team gave a sign
As they all cracked their throttles and got into a line,
Now Honda, Now Harley, Now Triumph and Indian,
On Kawi, On Suzuki, On Yamaha and Victory,
But I heard him exclaim as he roared out of sight
"Keep the rubber side down and have a good ride.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

What has happened to me?

You know, I'm a girl - not in the chronological sense of the word but in the shopping preference sense of the word. I like pretty, shiny expensive things. I love shopping for clothes and trying on shoes and picking out accessories that sparkle and glitter. So at what point did this happen?
I pay more than $100 for shoes that could look like this:
But instead look like this:
I could buy jewelry that shines like this:
But instead I end up with shiny stuff like this:

We won't even go into my Christmas wish list which includes a scissor lift and motorcycle work stand. Oh my.

"Bud"

This is a photo of a VERY dear person I know who is nicknamed "Bud". Bud is losing his memories to Alzheimers disease, but not alone. He is visited daily and faithfully by his (hilarious) wife of 64 years. Every afternoon she brings him a snack and reminds him of the goings on of his grown children and grandchildren and tells me stories of their "adventures" together. I rarely leave without a smile and a chuckle but today was extra awesome and I have Mrs. "Bud"s permission to tell you all about it.
Bud has lost his names for things and people. This really bothers Mrs Bud because he doesn't remember her name. When asked for her name he says "My Wife". Obviously that's the important part of the relationship but, darn it, it's NOT her name! Always being known as "Mr. Hawley's daughter" or "Ken's wife" or "Nik/Alex/JJ's mom" I can sympathize. Well today Mrs. Bud tells me "watch this..."
Mrs B: "Bud, Tomorrow is December third."
Bud: "uh huh" (with absolutely no sign of interest)
Mrs B: "What is December third, Bud?"
Bud: (without a single moment's hesitation and looking straight at Mrs. B) "YOUR Birthday!"
Mrs. B was wearing a very satisfied look when she said "64 years and he doesn't remember my name but I hammered THAT date into his brain!"

Gotta love it. :)