The last little package arrived. I’ll gift bag that sucker and be done with the wrapping, ribboning, bowing and tagging.
Gifts to pals I won’t see this year, shipped weeks ago, and most landed where they’re meant to be.
Tree up, mantels dressed, candles lit.
Thanks to Kayla and a marathon baking day, we have tons of cookies. I stood as baker’s assistant while she did the real work–and a lot of work it was. Also delicious.
I’ll sneak in a Nana brag as our college girl got her grades. Straight As.
We had a really fun, laborious day together. I miss seeing my grandboys, and having the gang baking in the kitchen. Next year–I hold onto next year.
I miss holiday celebrations and time with my friends. Next year.
Obviously, we won’t have our big bash of a New Year’s Day Open House this year. But next year.
And I admit, sometimes it gets me down. It’s hard not to hang out with friends and family, hard to cut out long-held traditions, hard to give up all those personal contacts, the hugs, the laughs, the simple, basic pleasure of being together.
But next year.
I’ve got plenty of work to keep me busy. Writing, for me, has always been a blessing, but maybe never as much as in 2020. It gets me going in the morning, helps keep me from dwelling–too much–on everything else.
Then there’s the weekend cleaning/cooking/baking routine. It helps, too.
But boy, will I happily pass my toilet brush to someone else next year.I’ll buy them new ones! Gold-plated toilet brushes if they want. And shiny silver buckets, jewel-encrusted scrub brushes! Whatever it takes.
Meanwhile, it all keeps me busy, and somewhat sane.
Also keeping us busy around here is Parker who had surgery last week for a torn ankle tendon. He’s recovering well, but JESUS! he now requires pretty much constant care. No opening the door so the dogs can stroll out and do what they do. Bag that cast, use a leash, walk him out, try to avoid having the Cone Of Shame bash you in the calves and shins.
He and Atticus both have the sads over the situation. But this, too, will pass. Next year.
Meanwhile meanwhile, the house is festive, and that perks me up.
Best, Jason, Kat and Griffin will come for Christmas as we’ve continued our careful bubble. I’m incredibly lucky there. We’ll have a late brunch once they get here, then tear into the presents. And won’t it be fun to watch a two-year old discover new toys under the tree?
Since Kat can’t eat mammals (reaction to a tick bite) we’ll have lasagna for dinner–with a salad bar to start, garlic bread from the Italian bread I baked last weekend, and an ice cream bar for dessert.
Then we’ll watch the new Wonder Woman. Yay!!
Not our usual Christmas, but we’ll make it happy. Then there’s next year. Next year, Kayla won’t have to haul all the gifts from here to her family because we’ll all be together. We’ll be together–family and friends–because we’re apart now keeping each other safe. And that’s the most loving thing we can do.
I’m wishing all our health care workers, our first responders, teachers, front line workers, delivery workers, USPS workers, grocery workers, and all those who’ve done so much, worked so hard to keep us all safe, to care for us, to keep it all going the best holiday possible. And a better, brighter new year.
I wish the same for all of you.
When I light my candles tonight, I’ll light them with that wish for all.
Next year will be better, and it will be brighter. But for now, we’ll make the now as solid and safe and shiny as we can.