Yet again, and seemingly in the blink of an eye, we're entering the 'holiday season.' Stores are crammed with Christmas displays and the (not so) subtle hint to buy, buy, buy. Trees, menorahs, wreaths, lights, candles, bulbs for the house. Stocking stuffers and presents for the in-laws and kiddies, siblings, cousins, and whom ever is in your life. No kids, no in-laws, no cousins here. My sibs have everything the could possibly want and more. So I get to be Scrooge.
Goodie.
Last year's presents to The Guy fell flat. Tickets to Grassroots, and I got blown off for a weekend of SCCA racing at Watkins. There's a reason I'm single! And kind of loving it.
This year, the dogs scored The Big Gift. It's early but it's grand. A new front porch/mud room that's nicer than the rest of the house. It's basically a glass box with a dog door that leads into a newly fenced yard. There's even a ramp into their pen. If only I'd have had that for The Big Guy. He would have loved it!
The White Dog is already zooming between 'her' yard, the porch and the house. I hear the 'slap-slap' of the double-flapped dog door as she bursts in from outside. How much easier my life will be now that she can entertain herself by watching cars go by (although there are few of them on this road), guarding the bird feeders from squirrels and chatting with the neighbors when they stroll by.
In keeping with the ho-ho-ho of the season, I also put together a few small gift bags or boxes for neighbors and far-flung friends. It's amazing how much stuff you can pack into flat rate USPS Priority Mail boxes! (Yes, I know the post office is going broke. Blame it on my Christmas gifting.)
The holidays, for me, are about being with the important people in my life, rather than gifts. And the food. I'm definitely in it for the food. I prefer Thanksgiving to Christmas, since there's less stress and forced conviviality with the earlier holiday.
Of course it also harkens the White Man's lies to and subjugation of native Americans. Not great. But probably better than Columbus day, which symbolizes the very beginning of the White Man's invasion of the Americas, and Caucasian domination and annihilation of the true Founding Fathers & Mothers.
However, in the spirit of appreciation of the bounty and good we all have in our lives I give the nod to Thanksgiving.
I'll be heading to my sister's again: my pattern for the past 5 or 6 years. Her husband cooks, and the food is unbelievably good. His son is a trained chef -- what can I say? The son's food is not half as good as his untrained father's cuisine.
Gastric distention, vagal stimulation, here I come!
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