One thing that I guess is a little bit different about the part of the country where my parents live is that javelina rove the streets at night, looking for food anywhere they can find it. My mother was bitterly complaining as on Christmas Day they decided to completely obliterate the pointsettia that she had out by the front door. They really are a small-sized pig, and more of a menace than anything else, knocking over trash cans. Kind of like what raccoons are in northern areas, minus the rabies.
Tamales are also a Southwestern part of our Christmas traditions. Ever since we moved to that small town, one of the ladies that my mother used to work with brings us tamales every year. Tamales are such a pain to make that many women in that area will get together and make a day of it, and then freeze them to serve throughout the year. Her tamales are different than what you can get in a restaurant as they are made with more of a white cornmeal, and she always sticks an olive in each one for extra flavor.
So that was about it: continuous feeding and talking for a few days. My flight back the other night got in just in time for me to run home, turn the heat in the house back up, and head off to work. I was a little more tired than usual after sitting around the Philadelphia airport for about 6 hours due to my jet being stuck somewhere in Canada, but it wasn't bad.