It’s the middle of December and Christmas has come and gone
for me. I started the season out gleefully anticipating the six parties on the
calendar but I only got to go to four of them before winter got in the way. Wednesday
the Alberta Clipper dumped 6-8 inches of blowing snow where I live, creating havoc
for drivers and my Red Hat Society party got canceled. Since the fifteen of us
were supposed to meet at a restaurant, we were able to move the reservation to January
when the weather could very well interfere again. On the good side, the gift I
bought for the exchange is one I really love and I will be thrilled if I get to
keep it. Everything has a silver lining. I’ve never come home from a Red Hat party with
something that didn’t go directly into a donation box. I wish
they’d go to the ‘consumables only rule’ that is popular down at our senior center. All door prizes and gifts given down at the hall cannot add
clutter to our houses. Twice I tried giving consumables at Red Hat Society parties but they didn’t go over as well as things like cookie jars, flashy
jewelry, lawn ornaments, tree ornaments, kitchen gadgets, etc. Clutter for people with more life behind us than in front of us.
The road crews did a great job clearing the roads after our storm and the
next day I was able to go to our book club party. We each brought a tray of finger
foods and no gifts except for the one the club bought for our facilitator. Several
people raved about the tarts I made and I’m going to get sick of them before
the year is out because I had already brought the ingredients to make them again
for my family’s party but I won’t be able to attend. I can’t drive after dark, especially out
in the boondocks, and the niece who was going to drive me back to the city with her husband
following behind in their car has decided to go south for a couple of weeks. Good
call on her part. I’d take a beach community over snowy Michigan, too, if I
could. But the knitted hats I made for everyone are with my other niece so they'll make it to the party.
January marks the beginning of knitting season at my house
and I have to decide what to make. The hats for twenty-nine people was too
ambitious a project for me. I got bored and tired of making them and I barely got them done
by spring. The year before I made sweaters for babies and three winters ago it
was baby car-seat blankets. Another year I made mittens for the senior hall
sale but they don’t hold their annual crafts sale anymore. I will probably make
something for my niece’s grandma drawers. They both have houses on lakes and
they are carrying on a tradition my mom did with them. She had a chest of
drawers with extra clothing for her grandkids because weather is often colder
around the water and parents forget to bring extra sweatshirts, sweatpants or hats and with
winter sports, dry mittens are always in short supply. I’m not fond of knitting
with four needles but I’m thinking about making kid sized gaiters. I love
gaiters and finger-less gloves. I wear both all winter long including inside the
house. It’s a thyroid thing. I’m always icy cold, even in the summer.
I won a beautiful pink poinsettia at the union hall
Christmas party and it’s the only holiday thing I have in the house. Unless you
count the decorated tree that is nicely wrapped and sitting on a shelf in the
basement and the two beautiful door wreaths with big velvet bows in
their custom wreath boxes stacked on the same shelf. How lazy was I this year! Three
trips up the basement steps could have put some holiday spirit in the house, but it felt like I'd be putting ruby-red lipstick on a whore hoping to score. See my big red bows, stop by for a visit! I've got holiday cheer inside! But I’ve been
faithfully visiting my tree and wreaths when I go down to check on the mice and
I’m happy to report that I’m winning that war. Ya, I know. I could have
multi-tasked while I was on mice patrol and brought my Christmas stuff
upstairs since I was going that way anyway. But I didn’t and I don’t really
know why. Sometimes it’s better not to exam things like that too closely
because we might not like what we find. ©
It's All Over but the Crying
The Ink Spots
It's all over but the crying
And nobody's crying but me
Friends all over know I'm trying
To forget about how much I care for you
It's all over but the dreaming
Poor little dreams that keep trying to come true
And nobody's crying but me
Friends all over know I'm trying
To forget about how much I care for you
It's all over but the dreaming
Poor little dreams that keep trying to come true
