"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve 2010
It SO doesn't feel like Christmas Eve
Christmas in our house growing up was a huge deal.
My mom went all out though she never appeared to enjoy it.
She always just looked stressed and aggravated.
At least that's how I remember it.
She loved to cook. I remember one December Saturday when I was maybe 9 our daddy took all 5 of us off somewhere. I think maybe to see the Rockettes at Radio City. She spent the whole day alone baking. It might have been the best day of her entire year. When we got home that evening, there were racks of cookies covering every surface of the kitchen and dining room.
She made Christmas ornaments. Collected and spray painted pine cones. 12 drummers drumming out of clothespins. Lacy white crocheted snowflakes. I remember watching her stick them to the side of the box freezer in the basement, smeared with starch so they would dry stiff and hang flat on the tree. I remember us making felt Christmas Bells when I was 6 or 7 or 8. She had already taught me how to use a sewing machine. We cut the felt. We sewed them together. We glued the ric-rak. We punched holes and fixed colored grommets with some cool tool contraption she had.
We made the bells together. That kinda shit didn't happen very often.
She made us Christmas dresses every year. All 4 of us. We would go to the fabric store and pick out patterns and fabric and inevitably she'd be up till 3 am Christmas Eve eve finishing the last dress. Because on Christmas Eve dayshe started cooking. She'd pull together a menu from the December issues of Food and Wine and Bon Appetit and Gourmet. This was back in the day when it was almost impossible to find something like cardamom or fresh juniper berries. A crown roast or fresh oysters needed to be special ordered.
And the Midnight Christmas Eve service in our fancy Christmas Dresses.
Daddy and I sang in the choir we sucked
Candles. Incense. Heavily spiked eggnog.
What??? we were Episcopal
So. Not much Christmas Spirit around here. It's not my usual Grinchy-tude. I'm just not that into it this year. The kids put up the tree. I bought boxes ofprobably gross frozen finger foods at BJs to take to Sister Halona's for our Christmas Feast. Screw cooking. I voted we order in Chinese. Sister Halona almost excommunicated me after that.
The pict on my header? From last year. I got the lights up but they're not plugged in. A few blue balls are hanging. Maybe I'll get the rest up tomorrow yes tomorrow as in christmas
Jack looked out the window at the half decorated porch and said not to be criticistic mom, but you're like the last one to get your lights up.
Criticistic? Did you say criticistic? Is that a word?
It is now. I'm George Bush.
Fukin funny kid
I snuck out this evening to fill my new xanax prescription pharmacy closed get some feminine hygiene products damn peri-menopause and buy last minute candy for stocking stuffers.
I drove down Main St, looking at the lights and thinking about how un-christmasy I feel.
Filled up the van with gas and picked up my Friday night 6 of hard cranberry lemonade.
Mr Gas Station Man asked for my ID.
I loved that
ID? Of course!hee hee hee Handed over my license.
Puzzled look on Mr Gas Station Man's face. I chuckled
Is this you? Which is funny cause I look even younger on my ID
Yup. I pulled off my glasses and laughed. 47. Good genes
"it occurred to me that the only real sin you can commit as a mother is to deny your children's right to be who they are and what they want to be and that the only real sin you can commit against yourself is to deny who you truly are and prevent yourself from being who that is"