Point being: this wasn’t even a casual hobby. It was just trains for the holidays, yo.

The week after Thanksgiving, my dad would head down to the basement and retrieve a six foot by ten foot piece of plywood with an oval train track attached. Painted green to match our living room carpet, this plywood would eventually be the foundation for the Christmas tree and a base for the presents. My sister and I knew it was going to be a good year if the presents spilled out on the tracks. We would happily sacrifice the train for more presents – that was a no-brainer.

Many years have passed since we last ran the trains. My sister and I now have families of our own, and all three of us live in new houses. My parents sold the home we grew up in and built their “dream house” of sorts on a lake a few miles away in Fairview Heights, my sister and her family moved about two miles away in Belleville, and my family dropped anchor in Richmond Heights – just a quick jaunt across the river.

All of this feel-good backstory is important, because it helps set up an epic email I received last night from my dad:
     From: Jerry Bolen
     Subject: Choo Choo, Whoo Whoo
     Date: December 19, 2010 6:25:20 PM CST
     To: Stephen Bolen, Elizabeth Stookey

    Train is ready. Peabody express is waiting for engineers!!!

    Dad

There were two pictures attached:

 

 
It was clear to me after reading his email that my dad has put on his grandpa hat and is now in the memory making business.

With his two granddaughters, business will be good.

So tomorrow, when I’m gathered around family trying desperately to protect my newborn daughter from the germs of relatives, I’m turning to Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale – in my humble opinion, the king of all seasonal beers.

So raise a glass and toast sanity – and Sierra Nevada. After all, they’re doing all the hard work!