Mark your calendars.
I’m not sure how it happened, or when, but somewhere along the line, my Uncle Rob became The Real Santa Claus. Once upon a time, he made the wood stove that heated the house I grew up in. It weighed about a thousand pounds, and threw off heat like a cast-iron supernova. I sat on it once, and still have a funny mark on my butt where the melted denim stuck to me. My dad said I was lucky I didn’t “fuse the crack shut.” Indeed. It pleases me to know that The Real Santa Claus is a professional welder, Read More