You may not travel for a family “gorgy” on Thanksgiving, but countless others gravitate toward mixing with people, even family, on Christmas and New Year’s. The aforementioned days are your last chance this year to be sociable. Or at least something resembling conviviality.
If you are content being a hermit or nearly so, close contact with actual folks reminds us of the entertainment value people provide. For example, I enjoy being surrounded by music. Music makes any task fun. Consequently, upon awakening, I turn on the radio. Sometimes, every radio in the house is on so that I do not miss a note walking from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Neither the Grands nor their mother is morning people. Consequently, trying to have a coherent and grunt-free conversation with them before noon is a waste of time. The other morning, I turned on the kitchen radio before my daughter joined me. “You really don’t like the quiet, do you?” she groaned, giving the radio a dark look.
“I do like to have it quiet sometimes, but overall I love music, and it fills the house with happy sounds,” her mother replied. There ought to be a medal for keeping my mouth shut and not commenting on the fact that every day she turns on the Today Show while getting ready for work. I would rather hear music than blah, blah, blah.
Based on his over-the-top shopping and generosity, Christmas had to be Hubby’s favorite holiday. He was the family’s self-appointed Santa. Over the years, certain gifts became a Hubby tradition, such as wall calendars for the ladies.
For example, he bought our daughter calendars depicting strong and talented females, such as Frida Kahlo. At times, he changed things up a bit and bought her fantasy-related ones, such as unicorns.
Whenever he asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she told him Chippendale or other beefcake calendars. Stubborn Hubby refused that suggestion every year. Last year, I tried to continue his calendar purchasing tradition. Our daughter asked her mother for a beefcake calendar.
The request came too late since mommy had already bought and wrapped the traditional Hubby-type gift. When she advised her daughter of that fact, the female child replied, “You can still take it back.” Mother was brave and refused.
However, since this year was the second Christmas without Hubby, his wife changed things up a bit. She bought a Houston Firemen and Rescue Dogs Calendar for her female offspring. Based on her daughter’s smile and the drool on her chin, the gift was perfect.
Since baking and dancing are two of my favorite pastimes, I often combine the two. The radio plays 80s music while the lady of the manor bakes and dances. Mind you, dancing and stirring are easy, but taking baked goods out of the hot oven was a challenge. With all the fun going on, I managed to bake too many pastries, which passes for normal when I bake.
The Grands and my daughter took home as many leftovers as they wanted, but there are far too many pastries left in the house. It is time to get creative and find happy homes and mouths for all the remaining goodies. My reasons are selfish. It is far better to please someone else’s palate than to consume all the goodies and add lumps to this lady’s posterior.
My plan: make the house pastry-free. The process is similar to when the chickens produced more eggs than we could eat. Anyone who came to the house, be it delivery guys, family, or friends, left with at least one dozen eggs. Now a windfall of pastries will be in the future of friends and relatives.
After my family left, this Sooner fan settled down to watch the Potato Bowl. Well, to be precise, it was the Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl. My daughter thought the peaches decorating the sports desk set looked like potatoes and referred to it all morning as the Potato Bowl. Frankly, chicken and peaches combined do not sound palatable, but then no one consulted me.
This hermit must confess, Christmas was delightful and entertaining.