I've been crying about the Christmas ornaments and because Regis said "he's known people who took hours to decorate a tree" and then was surprised that I took offense. He's sort of ducking in the corner behind the chair now so I think I intimidated him sufficiently. I'm kidding about that last part.
My naked tree has been standing in the living room for three days. Finally, today, I put the lights and decorations on it. The weeping comes from: things my kids gave me when they were little and now they're grown up, an ornament from Edna who's been gone for years already, a silver skate from Jane with a note about the nights we ice skated together and we never did...it's just part of our lore, an ornament for Jesse that Pat and Helen made in 1993, a Kosta Boda goat from Deb that's beautiful with a light behind it and makes me think of the times we spent New Year's Eve together in our feather boas, things I got from friends as far back as 1978 which is thirty years ago and make me feel really, really old. I know it's not logical but it's all very poignant.
My bones ache and I've been reading a very sad book, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. The writing is lovely but the story, so far, is sad and I don't expect it to get better.
It looks like the damn tundra outside and it gets dark at 4:30. What the hell is up with that? I know it happens every year; the solstice and all of that. But it's brutal. No wonder ancient people drank home brew and made bonfires. I was at a conference today and during every break, people were huddled by the windows soaking up the sun. It was kind of pitiful. Like cats laying on the heat registers.
My house looks like gnomes live in it. There are boxes everywhere and I'm afraid Martha Stweart's people will be here any minute for the photo shoot. I'm sure the dog won't wear his red bow and my pinafore won't fit. Our house doesn't look like a log cabin and we have no lights outside. I didn't make a goose for dinner; we had cold meatloaf sandwiches and a Moose Drool beer. The pressures of the holidays are too much.
The semicolon is my favorite puncutation mark lately. It used to be the ellipses. I'm not sure I use it correctly all the time but I don't think it really matters. Does it?
P.S. Make sure to read my mom's comment about The Other Boleyn Girl from 12/5.