Brotha Father Christmas

Allow me to introduce to you Brotha Father Christmas. Every year Brotha Father Christmas stands at the side of the sink in our bathroom ready to assist good girls and boys in washing their hands. He was a gift from my mom. My husband, who is African Canadian, aptly named him "Brotha Father Christmas". It reminds him of the days as a young boy, when his mother took him to visit the African American Santa at Hudson's in Detroit.

Brotha Father Christmas has fitted in well with our racially mixed family. Each year at this time, he brings smiles to the guests of Hoganland as they visit the facilities.

All's Not Well In Hoganland

It has been a while since I last posted. We have not been well in Hoganland. The Queen (me) of Hoganland has been battling a fever since Victoria Day, and hence, was not able to delight in some Victoria Sponge after all. The King of Hoganland (hubby) has been sick with a cold this week as well. And you know what babies our kings can be when they are sick.

As for the Heirs of Hoganland, they are well and in fact are benefiting from the illness of their parents. With two sick parents, cooking is not high on the agenda. In fact one young heir was overheard to say "I'm sorry Mom and Dad are sick, but this means we get Tim's!" Yes, we have once again helped the economy of our fair city by visiting numerous times to Tim's* and Mickey D's*.

Tim's = Tim Horton's
Mickey D's = McDonald's

Do not despair, dear friend, as the King and I are slowly on the mend. Well, time for some (cough, cough) tea and tablets!