One Week to Christmas

Damn updates! Can’t put up the pictures I took of me eating Christmas cookies for breakfast. That’s okay – just know that I did it and enjoyed it tremendously.
Busy week. We dodged a family feud bullet – lots of hurt feelings and tears but it’s working out, thank heavens. Imperfectly, but perfection is boring.

So this week I made nightshirts and sleep pants for Erin, Alex and Ali (I had a bunch of Hello Kitty Christmas flannel I’d bought more than a decade ago). I’m putting the binding on Alex’s quilt today, I’m attempting to make Ali’s quilt (it’s all cut) but I expect that’s not gonna make it in time for Christmas. I spent Thursday making Christmas cookies (cut-out sugar cookies, m&m cookies from my aunt’s recipe, cute green and red cookies with lemon extract). They were for GAAR (our theater group)’s Christmas celebration, which was a staged reading of A Christmas Carol interspersed with carols and music. I’ve been in such pain I tried to get out of it, even though it’s one of my favorite things, but Sabra talked me into it so I was Mrs. Fezziwig, the third narrator (and I got to read all about “luscious pears” and “twelfth-night cakes”), plus, my children I sang “Dona Nobis Pacem” With two other women. One was Cara, a magnificent alto who’s been the Mother Superior in Sound of Music (Climb any Mountain, anyone?) and the other was Heidi, a professional opera singer. My knees would have rattled if they weren’t so swollen, but I summoned forth my long-forgotten training, supported from the diaphragm, and managed to hold my own. In fact, was told I had a voice like an angel. I’m still shaking my head about that – my classical voice is weak. But not on Friday night.
I spent Saturday in bed, and finished up the nightclothes on Sunday. Today I sew while Richie decorates our tiny tree (I’m in too much pain to do much – can’t raise my right arm to hang things, etc). But I’ll try to do some cleaning. This year I’m embracing hygge with full force – it’s a long, cold winter and we need to be cozy.
The kids are safe and well, so I don’t need to panic. Sally and family are coming for Christmas (to their own house, thank God) and while I’ve got appointments this week we’re sliding into celebration mode rather than preparing mode.
Did I mention I love Christmas?
It’s really nice not to feel pressured about presents, or socializing (or lack thereof). We can just celebrate the return of the light (central to Christmas, Hannukah and Saturnalia) and be happy.
I hope you’re all going to have a lovely holiday, with no politics, lots of good food, family you love, friends and pets and everything with a candlelit glow. to quote one version of Auntie Mame, we need a little Christmas in this world of ours. Let’s seize it!

Merry Christmas, my children. Let’s hope that 2018 will be better than 2017 (which somehow managed to be worse than the god-awful 2016). Things have got to get better, and they will. We each just have to do our part to spread love and good-will.

Amen.

All About You … Fuck it, all about me (krissie0

Okay, I slept late. And I realized that All About You is really All About Me so I need to have All About You on another day. When I drag my sorry ass out of bed on Monday I’m focussed on the week ahead … but then I want to hear about your week ahead too. I view this as conversation (with me hijacking most of it), not so much blog entry.

But we’ll see. We had a very nice Thanksgiving – the turkey was overcooked, the potatoes were gluey (never use an immersion blender), the stuffing was soggy and there wasn’t enough gravy. It was just Richie and me, and my cooking, so none of that mattered – it was delicious anyway. I’d been cleaning for a couple of days, actually making progress, and I ended up in ghastly pain by the end, so we didn’t even sit at the table to eat – just had dinner in our laps. And it was lovely. I did ace the bread pudding, though. I was going to go for an oil-based pie crust with whole-wheat pastry flour but the pain had won out by then so I made an apple bread pudding with cranberry bread I had on hand, and it was ambrosial.

Spent a lot of the long weekend face timing with the grandkids and Tim – yesterday I played parallel Barbies with Ali (I had Richie go down to the basement and find Daniel’s old Barbies). I had unhappy conversations about and with two people and my relationship with them is going through similar problems, which makes me wonder if I’m the cause and not them. Nah, it’s them. Not sure what to do about it – I’m afraid I have to let it go.

NANO has been a qualified success – I won’t make 50k but I’ve written tons, and gotten back into writing again. Putting off the knee surgery was the smartest thing I could have done – if I’d gone through with it I would have ended up stalled out for another six months and who knows when I would have pulled it back together.

You know what’s damnable? All that cleaning, including stripped the kitchen back of all the shit that had come to live on the counters …. it’s all chaos again. That’s what I hate about cleaning.

We’ve been having Saturday morning write-ins at the library this month for NANO, and I’m going to see about continuing it. It’s great for me, and good for other people as well, and it would be great if we could build a community of writers (I live in a town of 700 people but it’s a writing town, especially in the summer).

So back to work. Tons of stuff to do before I sleep, but mainly keep writing.

So, come on, tell me about Thanksgiving. What was the worst thing you ate (or managed to avoid). What was the best? And we you thankful for anything in particular? Despite my two troubled relationships, I’m thankful for EVERYTHING! Life is a banquet.

Working Wednesday: How’s Your Turkey?

Okay, look, I’m writing a novel and making pie and winding yarn and cleaning house and trying to remember to get my bulbs in the ground (I KNOW IT’S LATE) so while I am sorry about getting this up late, I’m not that sorry.  It’s the freaking holiday.   ARGH.

What are you doing?  Besides baking pie if you’re an American. (And thank you, Libby, for that recipe on the back of your can.  It never fails.)

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