2nd Wind, January 18, 1987
Today I began packing the Christmas decorations and putting away the loot. Not one to rush things, am I? I do have an excuse this year, because I'm recovering from minor foot surgery... four ingrown toenails had to be "discouraged." It doesn't really bother me that much, but anything that makes me slower than I already am is noteworthy.
I'm an enthusiastic Christmas shopper and/or gift creator. I enjoy decorating and wrapping. But I hate the tear-down and putting away. I'm the same with grocery shopping... all efficiency and enjoyment at the store and reluctant to see the stuff even leave the car at home. If it gets into the house (courtesy of George and Beth, the genial volunteer unloaders) I will eventually have to put it away. Some day the car may become our pantry, eliminating that problem. The next step, however, would be a second car.
My maternal dragging feet have also had their influence on Beth. She just cooked the Thanksgiving turkey last week. It has been in the freezer, waiting for both of us to get in the mood to bother with that much domesticity. When we did cook it, we went into a frenzy of dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce... the works, efficiently freezing T.V. dinners of leftovers. All or nothing, that's us. Nothing predominates.
The communal dogs were ecstatic over so many good smells, and hopeful that with clumsy cooks a reasonable portion of the output would hit the floor. It did. We seldom have to mop at either house.
The gift wrapping this year was enlivened with Buster's help. We've had active cats before, but nothing to match this whirlwind. He almost got gift wrapped and sent out UPS. One of you might have been the lucky recipient.
By the time Beth and Mitch finished their last craft show (the weekend before Christmas) we were all glad to relax and celebrate with minimum fanfare. Santa was unusually perceptive this year. Our gifts, whether at home (possibly hinted) or incoming, were so "right"..... not one of those "well, there's always a rummage sale" years.
Early December, for me, was busy with singing engagements for our Mobilairs... most of them at convalescent hospitals. I was reminded of an experience some 30 years ago when I sang with Sweet Adelines. We were strolling through the wards of a county hospital, stopping at random by bedsides to sing. At that time we were young (relatively) and unfamiliar with the appurtenances of ageing. The sturdy bedside chair in which an old gentleman was sitting was a commode, but we, in complete innocence, stopped to sing to him. Mid-song, he (quite out of touch with his present surroundings) rose, turned his hospital-gowned back to us, bent over, reached for the toilet paper, and did what had to be done, then sedately returned to his bed. The song went on. How, I'll never know, but it did.
We send a multitude of good wishes for the New Year. Have a healthy one. We know we'll get plenty of exercise... going back to get the things we forgot.
Love, Darlys & George
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