festivities, women on stairs, and pantry tattoos

My P.E.O. chapter had our annual Holiday party this week.  Potluck dinner and lively gift exchange. All very festive, go Christmas.

During a break in the action, I asked if everyone would sit on the staircase for a "Von Trapp Family" photo.  I write a monthly newsletter for our chapter, so photos help liven things up.  Just as I was about to snap the pic, our hostess' husband arrived and offered to snap it so I could be included.

I attempted to get the ladies to go all mosh pit and transfer me up the stairs, but my request was denied.  Oh well.  This photo's resolution is bad enough to protect the innocents.  Blog, meet the chapter.  Chapter, blog.

The P.E.O. f@cebook page is full of holiday party pics.  Staircase shots are definitely in this year.  

We do a Yankee Swap gift exchange.  I personally don't put big hopes on what I'll end up with, it's just a fun thing to do.  Last year  I came home with a makeup kit.  I don't wear makeup.  Was someone trying to tell me something?

This year, however, I'm pleasantly pleased with our new little addition.  I've named him Charlie Cactus, and I'm determined that he not die on me (like most other plants in my care).  I've enlisted Meego's expertise on flora and fauna.  The life expectancy of his toads determined they would be long dead by now.  They seem to want to live forever in the swamp Meego maintains for them.

As you can see, Charlie's a bit lopsided at the moment.

There were a few non-P.E.O. guests that had come with friends, and as I was chatting with one, she noticed a tendril of tattoo sticking out from my not-long-enough-to-fully-cover-my-tattoo sleeve, and asked to see the whole thing.  

She mentioned that the friend with whom she'd come - let's call her "Sadie" - had a couple of lovely tattoos.  I looked to Sadie in surprise, because all this time I've known her, I didn't know Sadie was sporting tattoos.  I asked about the "whats" and the "wheres" and it was fun to learn how she'd decided on them.

Later, as we were cleaning up, Sadie pulled me into the pantry to show me a lovely tattoo of an  Indonesian woman (Sadie was born in Indonesia) and another tattoo depicting chickadees among cherry blossoms.  Both tastefully and nicely rendered.

I'd say they were in PG-13 areas, as the reveal only needed a bit of peeling of Sadie's top - upper boob and upper back - enough to make use of the pantry as opposed to a kitchen full of people.  

Sometimes it's funny to think back.  I became a P.E.O. because my mom was one.  Growing up, I usually had no idea what these women did, and they seemed so prim and proper.  When I was asked to join, Mom told me it was all good, so I figured it couldn't be all THAT prim and proper.  

Now I've been in P.E.O. for 31 years (sheesh!) and am enjoying rum Christmas cookies and swapping tattoo stories.  I knew it!

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Linking up with Mama Kat again for the prompt:

7. Write a poem, post or story where the last three words are ‘I knew it’.

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