My family has been crushing on The Snowman for the last 20 years.

The movie and book are pure magic. I have posted about this before. You have got to see it or read it. If you haven’t yet, I tell you, you are missing out.

This year we had lots of snow in fabulous Provo, UT. And it was PERFECT packing snow. Dreamy snow for making snowmen and the like.

So, Summer decided she was going to re-create our beloved “Snow Man”.

She spent all day working on it. (With a little help from Dad and Eno)

She even made a trip to the DI to find just the right hat and scarf, and she went to a fancy grocery store to get the right kind of licorice buttons.

It reminded me of when we were kids and she would get something into her head and then she would just DO IT with all her heart and soul until the job was done. Even if she had NO IDEA how to do it, she would just go for it. It is one of her best qualities. And in these pictures of her I think I see a glimmer in her expression that is PURE SUMMER. It is that little girl shining through!

Anyway, here is her finished product (at night, because. like I said, it took her all. day. long. to finished it)

Not bad, not bad at all.

Tess and Bette were so smitten the moment it was finished they went outside and gave it a giant HUG!

Hip and groovy.

That is what Warby Parker is.

It is a company that sells boutique-quality, classically crafted eye glasses for 95 bucks! That includes everything, lenses and all!

AND THEY SELL A MONOCLE, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

You may think this is silly, I think it is the coolest thing I ever. Full stop.

But the monocle is just the beginning of what makes this company cool. They sell glasses for men and women (all vintage inspired, because that is the cutting edge of hip and groovy these days…or so I’m told).

The founders of this company figured out a way to get around the few eye-ware giants who have a monopoly on the market and charge fools like me $500.00 for a pair of rummy glasses, by keeping everything on-line.

Well, my dad, Professor “hip and groovy” Kelly was gifted a pair of Warby Parkers for Christmas. This meant an eye-glasses fashion show for all of us to enjoy on Christmas morning. (As it is an on-line company, they send you several pairs to try on at home or you can do a “virtual” try on session on the website).

Or should I say “EYE-CANDY”!?!

You get the idea, the man is hip. groovy. and I will go as far to say, stinking cute!

These were the ones that got the collective “family vote”.

Hip, no?

Groovy, true?

For 95.00 bones we can all afford to be hip and groovy! Groovy-ness for one and all – that should be a Dawsome motto!

AND to top it off,

When you buy a pair the company will send a pair of glasses to a person in a developing country who needs ’em. So not only will you feel hip and groovy sporting your WPs, you will feel a warm glow knowing that your purchase has done a little bit of good in this world.

No need to thank me.

It’s been a pleasure.

These are two of my favorite photos that Jan took of the girls while we were at my parent’s place.

We don’t do extravagant Christmas presents. I think this might be because we always travel at least 3,000 miles from our home every Christmas. So, you learn to pack light, friends!

Clara got maybe four things tops.

Her special present was a little cloth diaper bag with a few diapers, changing pad, wipes and a bottle. All made from fabric. I never want to forget how sweet she was with that doll of hers.

This picture sums it up for me.

Man, was she a dream!

At one point when she was opening a present from her Aunt Tess she declared,

“I be so lucky!”

Then she slipped her little tootsies into these glittery Toms, lovingly gifted from Tess.

I think I felt luckiest of all to be the mommy of such a sweet little sugar plumb of a girl!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

The beautiful Catholic church across the street from our home is still ringing out the Christmas hymns so I guess I can still crank out the Christmas posts, no?

Do you ever wonder, “Golly, it’s 5:30 in the morning! I wonder what the Dawsons are doing right now?”

Sadly, we are usually NOT sleeping. (actually we have recently pushed the girls bed time back to 8:00 so that they will wake up at 6:00…yes, 6:00 is sleeping in around here)

A day before we left for my parent’s this is what we were doing at 5:30 in the morning, you know, in case you were wondering!

Our 2010 Christmas elves (James and Jingle – every year we have different elves) brought the girls a nutcracker, a book with photos from Balanchine’s ballet and the CD of Tchaikovsky’s fine music. We like to call him dear Pyotr, you know, just cuz.

The girls were thrilled!

Off came the pjs and on went Millie’s leotard and practice skirt.

And the party got STARTED!

But we did so much more than dance…

…we realized our clenched teethed, gotee sporting nutcracker was deathly ill (remember we were listening to a Russian composer so we had to have death and sadness thrown into the mix, it can’t all be romantic – that’s not Russian enough!!)

(He was treated with such tenderness – I just don’t know how he got to be so badly off!)

Dr. Dawson bandaged him

Put him to bed

And checked him regularly

And in the end, assured us that all would be well.

I know what you are thinking, Chekhov would have written a different ending, but my guess is that IF he were still alive, he would be fast asleep at 5:30 in the morning.

Poor fellow, clearly he would have missed out!

Was pure and undefiled AWESOME!

(Never mind that as I was putting up the decorations I had to take a break to throw-up, not even that could dampen my spirits, okay, it did dampen them just a little, if I am being really honest).

But seeing as I am so behind in my blogging I am just going to attack this randomly and tell you the story of Christmas 2010 as if I was Charlie Kaufman.

This year was a Kelly year. Remember how I was so diligent in reporting our English escapades in London and Bath last year? That was pretty rad. This year the sickness factor kept me from doing that again. So, now, allow me to tell you a bit about our time in fabulous Provo, UT.

There was SNOW

and LOTS of it!

There were cousins, galore!

Aunts and Uncles by the dozen…

…here you will see the aunts and grandma at our “Auntie’s Tea Party”

Presents!

(we like this picture because LOOK, I managed to buy Ben a practically identical shirt to the one he wore on Christmas day!)

Good eats!

and lots and lots of LOVE!

Sometimes when I am home with my parents and siblings and my very own growing family I feel like a bit of a love glutton. How did I land this gig? How did I get such wonderful parents, such remarkable siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews. H O W?

I just love these people more than I can say.

It always breaks my heart to leave them.

We had some SERIOUSLY good times this year!

(Hopefully I will get up the gumption to report in more detail later…but I am not making any promises)

I am so behind in what I want to blog about that I just don’t do it. This is when blogging becomes a real drag.

BUT…

I just watched an inspirational documentary film called,

The Horse Boy

and I just have to tell you about it.

It is about a father and mother who go to Mongolia to find a shaman to heal their autistic son.

Now, I made a recommendation a while back, and my film school sisters thought that it wasn’t up to standard. So I am going out on a limb here to see if they will think this film is worthy of it’s Sundance selection (and plethora of other notable awards).

But seriously folks – this one is going to challenge you. It’s going to make you think twice….

It is very, very interesting.

It is also very exciting to watch what happens to this inspiring family.

Can be streamed on Netflix today….

so don’t delay!

It is Christmas morning. Millie tapped my shoulder at 3 AM ready to get up and start her day. She was sent back to bed and fell right to sleep after a few tears (cue her threatening parents- “if you wake up your sister there will be NO PRESENTS” – we are all sleeping in the same room, you see). She is sleeping soundly, but guess who is still up.

I was just reading this and marveling at this experience we call life. It is so hard to capture all the feelings, all the experiences, all the emotions of even one single day. I guess I feel this very keenly as I am with my very large family. This past week, despite all the fun we’ve been having – I have watched as two couples in my family have suffered some very real disappointments and face some serious challenges.

We all face challenges. At times it can feel like they are more than we can handle. A few weeks ago I was looking through the Christmas cards we received this year – so many beautiful, happy faces smiling at me – but as I looked at their faces I was struck, as I considered their personal histories or current situations. Each one of them has known pain. Divorce, a child with a brain tumor, mental illness, being out of work, loneliness, self-doubt, rejection.

I guess what makes this time of year so poignant, is to consider – as an outsider looking into the lives of my loved ones and being aware of my inability to understand the breadth and depth of what each person goes through- the One who does. The One who hears our heart’s cry, who understands our racing minds, who knows exactly where it hurts, why it hurts and how to make it better.

2000 years ago He was a tiny baby. Think of it! All of human kind – all our hopes – resting on him. Even the sweet mother who held His little body in her arms, and who might have even been feeling overwhelmed by her  current circumstances, was dependent upon Him for her ultimate survival.

I love him and want to say how grateful I feel for who He is and what He has done for each one of us.

His magnificent, beautiful, kindly, generous, heart understands ours. He loves us. He knows us. He is always helping us – even when we have no idea He is there, and even if we don’t acknowledge it – His love is real.

I hope I can each feel it today as we celebrate his birth. I hope you can too.

Merry Christmas!

Remember THIS room? We have been seeing a fair amount of it in the press in the last few weeks.

It is one of MANY rooms in a joint called Buckingham Palace.

One week prior to Kate and Wills standing in it, to announce their engagement, guess who was else was there (in that very room)?

My darling in-laws and their fine son (not pictured because he was taking the picture).

They all went to BP so that Stephen could be awarded an OBE

OBE = Order of the British Empire

The dignified lady pictured above pinned the said award to Stephen’s lapel.

This isn’t Stephen, as Jan wasn’t allowed to take any pictures inside the palace, but just so you can get the feeling of how it went down I wanted to show it to you!

(Not bad, eh?)

I was really sad I wasn’t there. But very happy that Jan was able to be there. Here he is to give us an insider’s perspective on the event! Take it away, Jan!

I’ve never quite had a mental image to go with the phrase ‘pomp and circumstance’ but I do now. The whole thing was one of the most impressive things I have ever witnessed / been in the middle of. From all the various footmen and other associated officials in their many and varied military and other uniforms to the Gurkha bodyguards to the sheer ornateness of the rooms inside the palace, it was utterly intimidating and awe-inspiring. The ceremony itself ran like clockwork, with lots of people to tell both the recipients and the guests what to do and when and how to do it. (I’m told there was a lesson on both bowing and curtsying, with a side of walking backwards).

It all really impresses on you the significance of the honour associated with being given one of these awards, although other than the tap on the shoulders with the sword for the lone prospective knight that day and the slightly different hardware dished out, I was struck by how the formalities are very similar for each of the recipients, with each approaching from a side corridor precisely on cue, marching up to the Queen, bowing or curtsying, and then having a medal pinned (or rather hung) on them, answering a question or two from Her Majesty (who is prompted by an official by her right ear before every recipient approaches) and then walking backwards a couple of steps, bowing or curtsying again, and then marching off in the other direction. There’s an announcement at the beginning, before the Queen comes in, indicating that “no matter how great your appreciation or admiration for the person being honoured, we ask you not to clap or otherwise show that appreciation” so it’s all very quiet, with the only speaking being the announcement of each recipient and the utterly inaudible mutterings between QE2 and the person being honoured.

The whole thing was a thrilling event from start to finish, although when it’s all done you’re left oddly at a loose end, to wander about the courtyard just inside the front of the Palace, to take pictures or generally take in the view and experience.

And now, Jan, feel free to gush openly about your father’s achievement. (Dawesome is a safe place for gushing, as regular readers are fully aware.)

British men are generally not gushers, or at least we gush more modestly than is normal in these parts, but here’s a little British gushing…

The honour was officially for “services to the voluntary sector” – all the awards are phrased in similarly generic terms. But specifically, the award was for several years of service post-retirement from the business world to the charity sector. After leaving venture capital mostly behind, the first thing my dad did was pioneer a new thing called venture philanthropy, borrowing concepts from the VC world and applying them to money donated by philanthropists to charity. With a partner, he started the first fund of its kind in the UK, which is now thriving and growing with less and less involvement from him. To quote a recent article about it: “The Trust said that over 250,000 people have benefited from the work of the 16 charities and social enterprises which have been part of the portfolio since its inception.” Enough said – a quarter of a million people!

Since that was going so swimmingly, it was clearly time for something new, and so the current project is also a bit complex to explain, but essentially involves trying to help the people of sub-Saharan Africa by building up a venture capital infrastructure in several African countries. My dad has a partner again in this effort, this time one of the lawyers who represented Nelson Mandela in his court case way back when, who went on to lead a very successful Scottish bank. This effort is only getting under way now, but it’s already promising to have a big impact.

I go to the UK about every three months for work, and I always love to hear about all the latest news. That three month interval is always just long enough for more amazing things to be happening, more amazing progress to have been made, and lots of good things happening for lots of people who need help of one sort or another. I was tremendously proud when the work he’s done over the last several years was recognized in this very formal and awe-inspiring way, but not at all surprised. It’s all very well deserved!

Cool, is it not?

So how does one, who isn’t say, David Beckham (he got an OBE for “services to football”), get noticed by the Queen and get a golden medal pinned (or hung) on them?

Here is how it all works: Someone first must nominate you. Then your name and a description of what you have done is sent to a committee of civil servants. They make recommendations to the Prime Minister. The PM then sends a list to the Queen who then announces the nominations.

And before you know it, there you are in Buckingham Palace, with the Queen of England, a lorry full of her guards, a whole lot of pomp and 100 chosen few who are there to be recognized for the good they have done for the British Empire…and all of them feeling rather awed.

I love this man.

He is a good one, I tell you! Just ask Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II, that is, if you don’t want to take my word for it, chaps!

Just came across this quote from Albert Einstein:

“From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of each other – above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”

On Monday I was running late (shocker) to pick up Millie and her friend Molly for dance class.

I threw Millie’s dance gear into the car and buckled Clara into her seat, turned the ignition, started to back the car out of the driveway when I realized that I would need to take the OTHER car. The mini-van. The car with enough seats for all the kids.

“Darn it!” I said.

“What happened?” responded Clara (that is the new thing she loves to say these days).

“Oh, Mommy made a mistake and we have to take the other car and we are late.” I said as stress emanated from my person.

Then Clara said,

“Jesus will help us.”

And it melted my stressed out heart.

“You are RIGHT, Clara! He will help us!” I said to her (and to myself).

I have been thinking of that over and over again since she said it. And I feel like it was a gift from heaven. Because it is TRUE! He will and does help us all the live long day!

Just so you aren’t worried that we are going to get translated and taken up to heaven –on the very same day, later, when I realized we were locked out of the house and Jan was in the city and wouldn’t be getting home until 10 PM, and it was very cold outside Millie said, in a very cheerful and matter of fact way,

“Damn it.”

Because sometimes her mom says that. Okay. I do. I admit it. And I let Millie know that she shouldn’t say it and neither should I.

We take it all. The bitter with the sweet. The rough with the smooth. The glorious with the mundane. And in the mix a few swear words occasionally get thrown in. Although, technically we are an ANGLO- AMERICAN household and in England it isn’t a swear word. Not that I am trying to justify myself. Just stating the facts.

And the fact is, I am human and not perfect.