(I haven't proofread.Maybe later.)
This is the year we didn't decorate. I'm not sure where things went off track, but the plastic crates full of decorations that are down in the basement remain there. Late this afternoon, I pulled out our "pine" garland and some stems of silver leaves out and decorated the front porch. I put a big velvet bow on the door and a wreath on the front porch post and that was that. I couldn't find the extension cords, so the wreath is not lit up. Better than nothing.
My husband is usually the one who wants to make it look like Christmas. For the two consecutive Christmases when I couldn't function--and didn't really want to--it was my husband who pulled out the decorations. He would ask me where each thing was supposed to go, and he just kept asking until I gave an intelligent answer.
Part of the problem is that the house looks like a bomb hi it. It's hard for me to organize myself to straighten up and put things away. The clutter is ubiquitous. I want to clean it up, but I can't figure out how to sort, organize, prioritize, or otherwise get the job done. It's overwhelming, even when I break it into smaller jobs. I need one of those home shows to send a professional.
And so it is that my husband didn't want one more thing added to the clutter. It's still going to get done. I'm hosting a small party on January 3, and the house must be cleaned, decluttered, and spruced up in a holiday way.
How did it ever come to be that I don't have the mental capacity to organize the solid matter occupying my home? When did I lose interest in picking out the perfect gifts for my family? This year, I spent the money on household items and warm clothing for the refugees here. I started getting ready to bake a stollen, but got hopelessly distracted shortly after putting the fruit ti soak in the brandy. I'll try again in the morning, but by then the fruit will be exceptionally...drunk. It will make for a very cheerful stollen.
I would have sucked at being a parent. I can't even wrap my mind around the kind of stamina, planning, and thought that would go into putting together Christmas for kids. I'd never even make it through the shopping.
There was a time, I did this stuff. I shopped--carefully. I decorated. I baked. I cooked, I made my own wrapping paper, and generally overachieved in a Martha-esque manner in all areas of holiday merry-making. Throw some lithium into the eggnog, and look what happens. Santa can't find his way out of the North Pole.
For years, I had a Christmas Eve ritual that was just for myself. I lived in a town (and then another after that) with many old churches. When the church is full of people in winter clothing, there's usually a need to open the windows. Perfect. Around midnight, I would walk around town and listen. The music was sweet and warm. I heard bits of O, Holy Night, Silent Night, and the Hallelujah Chorus. It always gave me time to myself when I really needed it. I used the time to reflect, but mostly just to listen and enjoy the music and the enthusiasm of the people who had gathered to sing it. Now I live in a residential area where the churches are miles apart, not blocks apart. The cold goes right through me, and since the churches here have modern HVAC systems, I wouldn't hear anything anyway. I did watch The Voices of Christmas tonight on CBS. It wasn't even close to the real thing, but I like the music and singing, just the same.
It's getting late. I should go to bed. I already know what Santa's going to bring, so there's no anticipation keeping me awake. I'm just bored. Is this any way to spend Christmas Eve?
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