Whee, Christmas day. Ever since my grandmothers died, Christmas day has involved my parents cooking -- now, normally my dad doesn't cook. I'm not really sure why, he can, and seems to enjoy it, but there you are. Anyway, on holidays such as this he roasts the turkey, which you can see here, featuring my dad's hands as he pokes and prods to make sure it's done. He made me carve it this year. : p I got to use one of the knives Mom bought me yesterday (a six-knife set, it's fairly nice), so all right, I guess. Mom made sides, such as peas, mashed potatoes, so on. I made these honey-roasted sweet potatoes. This is the first year I've ever made anything, as this is the first year where I actually knew how to cook. Here is my plate, with all the things piled on. My dad also made the dressing, which is really good. The plate is one of a set it turns out we have (I've never seen them before); they were my great-aunt's, and come from France. Neat.

EXTRA-SPECIAL HOLIDAY IMAGES:

View through my window on the twenty-first (the solstice).

My dad decided to take a picture as I rocked out with my metaphorical penis exposed, so enjoy.