The box of mystery...

There is a large cube under the tree downstairs. In fact, it’s so large, it’s pushing the lowest row of branches askew. I would think that HAL is in there, or the Infinite Improbability Drive, except that the wrapping paper has Winnie the Pooh figures on it. The Ernest Shepard Pooh, not the Disney Pooh. There are several charming scenes repeated over and over; I’m particularly taken with the rendering of Piglet and Tigger frosting a cake. Of course, the presence of W the P characters on the outside of the package does not necessarily indicate that the object inside will be Pooh related. And I can’t imagine what could be W the P themed and still come in so large a box. We shall see.

Mr. Rilch is also getting a mystery, though he doesn’t know it. He told me weeks ago that he wanted the Sega Dreamcast format of Hail to the King. In his best Red-Ryder-BB-Gun voice, he told me that if I got nothing else for him this X-mas except that game in that format, he would be satisfied. Well, I had the devil’s own time getting a copy, what with the release dates being so ambiguous, and store clerks not caring if they gave me accurate information. Mr. Rilch was aware of some of this. When I finally secured a copy (at a good price, too!) I told him I had been unable to find it “because it hasn’t been shipped to the West Coast yet”. Luckily, no one has tipped him to that, and we’ve both finished shopping. I told him I’d still buy it for him when it was available. Meanwhile, it’s down there, cleverly disguised as anything other than a game disk.

Further bulletins as events warrant!

Well! I’m looking at the cube’s contents right now! A nineteen inch flat screen monitor. Oh my god it is beautiful. I don’t have to put my nose on the screen; I don’t have to worry about the image clouding over, and my wallpaper looks like it should; it’s not compressed into a tiny square. So it wasn’t a W the P gift, but I’m saving some of the paper anyway!

Mr. Rilch’s surprise came off really, really well. He kept his eyes closed while taking the lid off the box, almost like he knew this was the mystery gift. Then he looked down and in, at the game disk. A millisecond of silence, then, “You lying sacka…I can’t believe you…You are the woman!” I had gotten a mutual friend to back me up on the “hasn’t been shipped” fabrication, and Mr. Rilch now declares that he’s going to grow eyes in the back of his head, to keep track of both of us at once. He hasn’t finished reading the instructions yet, and already he’s creaming himself.

I have a nineteen inch flat screen monitor!

Merry Christmas! Thought you’d like it.