Brown Christmas

And immediate aftermath.

At 3:34 p.m. Christmas Day, it was 53° and raining. Christmas Eve day it was just as warm and less wet and I ran into a neighbor who called it “lovely, but so wrong”. A perfect way to describe the weather. I wish I had thought of the phrase 10 years ago when we were having mild weather in December or March, when I said I didn’t like it and everyone was like, “oh, just shut up and enjoy it”.

On Christmas Eve, we upheld our tradition of home made pizza and watch a silly movie, actually Love Actually. One of the pizzas had broccoli and cauliflower on it and the other, the one everyone seemed to like best, had corn, pulled pork, extra bbq sauce, and pickled onions. The crust didn’t really rise right, and I checked the expiry date on the yeast and it was last June. Which also might explain the not quite right dough for the wienies for the party.

We went to the services at First Congregational and it was OK. I think there were probably other Christmas Eve celebrations around with better music. I drank two beers with the pizza, and was sobering up during the service, so might’ve felt better without the alcohol. Or if course if I had been able to keep drinking during the service, I would’ve felt better, too. Pia liked it, that’s the most important part.

And oh, yeah, as I made the pizza I gathered all the vegetable scraps and had a pot of veggie broth simmering. I think it would been really good – leek greens and sage and parsley and carrots and onions … but I forgot to turn it off and when we came back downstairs two hours later, it wasn’t burnt but all the liquid was gone. I let the sludge cool off and composted it but later I thought hmm, if I was really frugal, I would’ve maybe pureed that sludge and strained it and I would’ve had a form of homemade bouillon, veg broth base, just not in cubes.

Christmas Day was presents and cats and giant cimmy bun.

Later on Christmas Day, we started something of a new tradition, going over to Al & Emma’s for Jasper to open his presents and for all of us to eat take away Chinese.

On Boxing Day I took Lucy to get spayed. The day started off OK. After I dropped off Lucy, I took the car back home and I met a friend for coffee so I got in a walk.

I made my New Year’s cards and submitted the order, and paid a few bills and sorted the papers stacked up on my computer table. I had actually paid the property taxes online on Christmas night when I was sitting with the cats, so Tuesday I made sure there’d be enough money in my bank account when the taxes get deducted.

The day didn’t go sideways until after I brought Lucy home. That’s when I finished the chex mix, even though we were going to dinner. At Amara, which was good except something happened in the kitchen – I think they dropped Mark’s pasta and tried to wait, but ended up bringing Pia’s and mine out, cold, and then after a awkwardly long gap, Mark’s. Nice and hot. I had an old fashioned – their cranberry old fashioned which was pretty sweet, even made with bourbon – and a glass of wine and the big dinner on top of all the chex mix. (and there might’ve been a ginger cookie or two in there too).

Anyways Tuesday night I slept like crap and woke Wednesday morning with post holiday depression. And depression depression. I blame alcohol and too much sugar and eating late at night – we had trifle when we got home from the restaurant – and had been guiltily fretting along the lines of “why do I do this to myself? My stomach hurts my head is pounding.” Expanding to not getting enough exercise and what am I going to do with the leftover cookies? (the most unreasonable of all the frets – the cookies always get eaten) and this thing and that thing in the house is: dirty, broken, not working right anymore …. your choice. And my hair is weird since Covid – it’s limp and won’t stay braided. I’m generally falling apart and I look in the mirror and don’t like what I see [aging]. And we’ve reached that point with our cleaners where they’re just not doing a good job anymore and we probably need to find someone new. Who will also do a good job for awhile and then not.

I got up and fed the kittens and put salt in the water softener and did some other did straightening and organizing, and started feeling better.

Lucy post-spay didn’t feel so great Wednesday either. My perfect girl kitten and doing something that’s supposed to be good for her messed her up.

It also got sunny and I went for a walk and I’ve mostly only eaten fruit today, well, and a little peanut butter. I went grocery shopping and had to go 3 places to get everything but at the last stop I paid cash and got a wheaty in my change. So I guess this is the process of kicking 2023 to the curb, and trying to get optimistic for 2024. Election year … Although that’s another thing I did – sent the city clerk my availability to work elections in 2024 – all of ’em except August 13.

OK, onward.