Since school's been out for me, it's just been a big party—or several. This morning was our ward Christmas party and breakfast. And last night Bruce and I went to what has become known as the "often annual Kearns High Christmas party." But actually, the party has nothing to do with Kearns High.
See, when we were cute, little newlyweds (in 1990) we decided to throw a big Christmas party and invite all our friends and their dates. Now a lot of our friends did go to Kearns high since that's where we both graduated, but we invited other people, too. The next year we hosted the party again, but most of our friends who were single the first year were now married. So we kept the party a little smaller—just us and our best friends from school and their spouses. And that's how it went for quite a while, except we rotated who was hosting each year. Our good friend, Scerinda (who did not go to Kearns High herself, although she married one of our Kearns friends) had it in her head that this was some kind of Kearns High reunion/Christmas party, and she expanded the guest list just a little. It's gone from five couples to six, to seven,—all Kearns grads and their spouses. We like all of them, and we've kept up with them, and we have a good time when we get together. But while Scerinda thinks of it as the "Kearns High" party, to us it's just our annual friends party.
Every year we have a nice dinner, lots of visiting and catching-up, and a white elephant gift exchange. It's really fun to get together with these old friends each Christmas-time. And we've gotten some great gifts—like "horny goat-weed" tea, an old prom photo, a Provo phone-book. But the most "beloved" gift of all is the hen on a nest.

See, that first year we threw the party we also started the white-elephant gift exchange. One of our young, single guy friends received a glass candy dish shaped like a hen on a nest—which we all thought he would dispose of promptly. We all had a big laugh when, the next year, David and his wife re-gifted the "Hen on a Nest" to someone else.
Since then that hen has made its rounds with the entire group—still in its original box. And the hen has acquired a friend too—a little turkey on a nest. After 20 years of being passed around, we've all had to disguise the chicken box so that no one knows who will end up with it at the end of the evening.
And guess what? Last night
Bruce got the chicken! Yes, the chicken box was very cleverly put into a large box along with a ten-pound bag of potatoes. Bruce never suspected. And now the nesting hen will sit around our house—in its box—for a year. I wonder how
we'll disguise it for next year's party?

By the way, I did wrap up my shoes and give them away last night. Ken Johnson got them.