‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

Well, I’ve been tinkering with the drums so much since I’ve got back, lavishing them with love and attention as I imagine parents do with their newborn babies.

I thought that since the drum kit was ‘my baby’, it deserved front and centre position on the front of the first ever Collison christmas card:

Yes, they are Apple stickers. Yes, I am a nerd.

I came across this really neat tip via GeekDad as to how much you should spend on Christmas gifts.

1. Let’s choose a budget for our shopping. For this example, I’m going to choose €60.

2. Make a list of those you have to buy for. Add a number beside each one, prioritizing them. 10 is the highest.

– Person 1 (9)
– Person 2 (9)
– Person 3 (7)
– Person 4 (6)
– Person 5 (3)

3. Add the priority numbers equal the total budget (i.e. 34 = €60)

4. If 34 ‘points’ equals €60, one ‘point’ equals 60 divided by 34, which is €1.76.

5. If one ‘point’ equals €1.76, you should spend €15.88 on Person 1, as they have 9 ‘points’.

6. Lather, rinse, repeat for each person.

Photo owned by VirtualErn (cc)

In one of my breaks from the Young Scientist, I looked up and noticed it was snowing. Before you could say ‘winter’, I was back with scarf, jacket and camera. The results of my expedition:

Click for bigger

Next door’s garden

Our back garden. You can even see the flecks of snow

Readers of my Mum’s blog will be familiar with these flower pots, and also with…

…these arctic creatures. They seem unusually happy for people confined to the outdoors.

I wouldn’t trust going on the trampoline in this weather. Something tells me that I’d hop on and then *snap*

Next door’s garden. Christmas Card 2010

The field behind us, caked in snow.

Sit back, relax, and attend the tale of the chocolate shampoo.

Yes. You read that right. Chocolate shampoo.

I finally got up about two hours ago, and hopped in the shower. I reach for the green shampoo but it’s empty. I grab the lynx shampoo and click open the top. I pour some onto my hand and a brown cascade flows onto my hand.

Anyone else would think that’s poo, but you guys know Trust Tommy better then that. No, this is John’s latest (in a string of) attempts to force me to eat chocolate.

I look at it.

No. Impossible. He couldn’t. That’s..

I can wonder all I like, but the truth is that, yeah, John replaced my shampoo with chocolate.

It hasn’t touched my hair of face. It’s merely dripping down my arm.

I close the lid and run the shower again, getting it off. Then I pour half of the chocolate down the drain.

I decide on my method of revenge. I get dressed, grab the bottle and head downstairs. John is innocently eating breakfast.

Nonchalantly, I approach him.

“Funny,” I say, in mock concentration, trying to keep a straight face. “When you buy Lynx shower gel, it’s usual for it to contain gel, right?”

By now, I’m right beside him.

“Yeah” I continue. “I’d be almost certain that’s the case”

John smirks. The smirk is quickly replaced with a look of alarm when I lunge forward and pour the last 1/4 of the bottle’s contents all over him.

Revenge is sweet. Hell yeah!

**

And you know what? He had the cheek to send around a photo essay!

As always, peeps, click for bigger versions

Yes, I’ve joined the Glee train, and this week’s song is Don’t Stop Believin’.

There’s a drumming video in the works but some of the intricacies are tripping me up, especially in the post-production, placing the song over the video. How I make them is relatively simple. Because the music is louder, I always drum to headphones rather than speakers. Using I movie on my MacBook, I record myself playing the piece through headphones, which leaves me with the drumming track, but no music. After that it’s a simple case of adding the song over the video and moving along the starting point of the song in iMovie until it’s at the same place as the starting point of the song through the headphones.

I’ll do a how-to video with screenshots and arrows and explanations of all processes involved soon. Stay tuned!

I think that this is why I enjoy Christmas. Being quite nonreligious, I instead enjoy the byproducts of the holiday season – the food, spending time with your family (everyone comes home for Christmas), the time off school. I’m not a Grinch, I don’t hate Christmas. What you believe is between you when your God, and being honest, it’s not so much that I’m a very tolerant, respectful person, it’s just that I don’t really give a huge amount of thought to what others believe.

Photo owned by rinkjustice (cc)

Patrick got the board game Diplomacy for Christmas, and we tried to play a game of this after Christmas dinner. Oh, and who would have thought that playing as 1910 countries could be so fun! I was France, and I attempted to make a crafty alliance with Mom, Britain to double-cross Dad, Germany, and steal his land. Meanwhile we had Patrick, Russia, coming down through Scandinavia to mount a northern attack on Germany. Finally, John went off and did his own thing, as Austro-Hungary, and captured the countries around the Black Sea. I feel sorry for the poor Yugoslavians…

However, in the end, negotiations broke down between countries and we all went off and played Hearts.

That’s totally how happened in 1910, right?

Then again, the word ‘tradition’ is actually defined by Google as an “inherited pattern of thought or action”. That, to me, seems a lot more lenient in that it says to me that it doesn’t have to be anything common, normal or usual.

And so, here’s a tradition. :)

Last year, around this time, I went Karting. I’ve always had a sordid relationship with karting to be honest. I was never a very tall child so when people went karting, I’d come out onto the track, into their self-titled ‘smallest car’, sit in it and see if I could reach. Invariably, I couldn’t, so I’d wait in the main building while the others went karting. My annoyance as to not being able to varied, depending on whether there were books and TV wherever I was waiting, or if water was readily available, things like that. I was always one of those kids who could stare at the wall and entertain himself but you do kind of grow out of that.

So because this time last year was my very first time behind the wheel, I was a bit of a Granny, and the only way I would’ve won is if they’d been measuring from the bottom up, or by the number of overtakes. I wasn’t very experienced and wasn’t aware that you could go faster than I was going. In fairness, the kart makes a loud, guttural roar when you floor the accelerator and that probably put me off.

So, since I approach this with experience under my belt, this time will be different. I didn’t overtake anyone last year so that skill still escapes me. Once I get that sorted nothing stops me from coming first, right?

Check back here to see if my confidence is placed well or not…

Twitter had a gift for me too:

Abuse? I don’t tweet thaaat much. Certainly I know several people who do elephantine proportions much more accurately than I do :)

No matter, they let me back in. *changes password*

There are however a couple of poems which I really do quite enjoy. The Listeners by Walter de la Mare is one. Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen is another. Seriously awesome.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas is also one I enjoy:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danc’d in their heads,
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap —
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a minature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen,
“On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixem;
“To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
“Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys — and St. Nicholas too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:
He was dress’d all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish’d with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a peddler just opening his pack:
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples: how merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laugh’d, like a bowl full of jelly:
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And fill’d all the stockings; then turn’d with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight —
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.