As you may have already gleaned from some of my entries, I love fall and winter. Really. I've always thought that I have a disorder exactly opposite of those people who get depressed during winter and have to sit in front of sun lamps. Summer usually bums me out -- hot and humid weather, a wardrobe that reminds me on a daily basis that I am not thrilled with my body, hours and hours of sunlight that make me think I should be working, etc. The major exceptions to these complaints are baseball and really good thunderstorms.
Fall and winter have always satisfied my nesting instinct, my love for all things cozy and some sort of hot drink to cradle in my always-frigid hands (Dave helpfully rubs them for me and offers the sage advice to quit smoking). I love sweaters and thick socks and comfy throws on the couch. I like baking cookies for the sole purpose of countering the draft coming through the kitchen door -- with the fringe benefits of the smell and, of course, the cookies. I like filling out Christmas cards and decorating for the holidays. I love a good snowstorm -- especially when it begins when we're fully stocked with food and toilet paper and the potato-leek soup is already simmering.
All of this is to say -- this year I'm not feeling it. I have not baked a cookie. I have not dug out all of my cozy sweaters. We have not bought a tree. December has descended upon us and we are both struggling to control it.
We did decorate -- and the apartment looks great. I bought scented candles and we have the big star in the window. I love that. We did a big cleaning when we decorated and did it all in one day (yes, we -- Dave did lots to help). This has proven smart as we would not have decorations up if we had left them to do piecemeal. We are both busy (yes, me -- I've even got a job interview on the phone tomorrow but I'm not going to talk about it here nor is anyone going to discuss it less we jinx the first chance of a shot at a job I've had in over two years). I've also got a meeting tonight (Ofest '05!) and a meeting (parish council) and choir rehearsal (WGN-TV is coming to preview us before we shoot some little piece for some religious music program they have) tomorrow night. Sprinkle in a few social obligations and visiting friends and family from out of town, and the December calendar is full. We're just a little overwhelmed lately and Christmas is not going to patiently wait for us to come up for air.
I'm actually looking forward to the days after Christmas at my parents' -- the afterglow, if you will. The debriefing from nieces and nephews about Santa's performance this year, cookies for breakfast (I'll make them at some point!), colorful flames in the fireplace from wrapping paper kindling, hours-long games on the dining room table, the perpetual pot of coffee or mugs of Mom's hot chocolate to fuel the day, and, notably, no shopping to do, no errands to run, no holiday drivers and lack of parking to deal with, no hours of interstate driving with amateurs to suffer, no Salvation Army bell ringers to bear, no appropriate outfits to coordinate for social occasions, no meetings-we-have-to-get-in-before-the-holidays to attend, only family, food, and thick socks and a cozy sweater -- that part of Christmas that is after Christmas that I love.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Best Day Ever
Right before our Thanksgiving getaway, I had to run to Walgreens. You know how it is -- tiny shampoos, tiny toothpaste, travel candy, etc. Then I headed to Wendy's to grab us an early dinner as we had successfully emptied the apartment of perishable food before our Thanksgiving jaunt. The helpful drive-thru window attendant apologized that the fries would not be ready for another two minutes. No problem. I love hot fries. So I pulled forward and put the Focus in park.
This particular Wendy's is on Lawrence Avenue which can be a very busy thoroughfare. As is common for me, the mandated time-out waiting for fries allowed me the opportunity to observe a few things that I would have otherwise missed in my attempts to make a quick left onto Lawrence without dying in order to make it home with fries above room temperature.
The first thing I noticed was a man in a beat-up old Honda something-or-other. He was parked at the curb on the side of Lawrence that I was on -- headed east. He looked nervous. He kept checking his mirrors. Then I heard the transmission crunch as he put it in first, pulled the wheel all the way left, and hit the gas. He made a u-turn across four lanes of traffic just like that. When he made it to the other side of the street, the transmission crunched again as he put it in reverse and proceeded to alternate between first and reverse in order to park the car on that side of the street -- exactly opposite of where he was parked before he risked his life to get the new spot. Once he was happy with the car's placement and parallelness, he got out and walked into the building that was right in front of the car. Odd.
Soon after the super-parker had disappeared into his building, I saw a family walking towards me. They were clearly coming back from the Sears that is a little east of the Wendy's. It was mom, three boys, and two girls. I would bet that the oldest was 12. Each child and mom had a bag from Sears. It was clear that each bag contained something that each had picked. The youngest, and last in line, was a girl. She decided to do away with her Sears bag and instead proudly carried her purchase unconcealed. In her arms she held a baby doll that was still securely fashioned to the box in a reclining pose. I know how tough those plastic ties can be. The doll looks like you could just reach out and lift her up from her nap -- when the reality is that she is permanently affixed to the box by her ankles, wrists, and neck. I loved that the little girl was so happy. She was beaming. She didn't need the doll to be free of the box to hold her baby. She had removed her mittens to wriggle her hands behind her new charge and the plastic ties that bound her in order to clasp her baby to her chest ignoring the box completely.
The youngest girl and her doll were last in the mother-and-ducklings line. Just as she had passed from my view as they crossed in front of the Wendy's, she reappeared with a smile and happiness upon her face even greater than what I had just witnessed. Her eyes and mouth were open wide. She was almost levitating with joy. Her brothers were working quickly to move past her. It was one of those "but, wait! there's more!" moments. Mom had just announced that they and their new purchases were going to eat at Wendy's!
I remember that kind of joy. My dad used to take each of us kids out to breakfast at McDonalds for our birthdays and I thought it was the best thing ever. We got to eat inside! We didn't have to take it home! I could get my own orange juice and drink it through a straw! I didn't have to share any of it with a sister or brother!
My fries arrived and I was struck that I thought of this trip to Wendy's as a nuisance, an easy way out of a no-food-in-the-house situation. A less-than-desirable quickie meal that required me to sit and wait in the fast-food drive thru. But for that little girl, a trip to Wendy's was the icing on the cake of the best day ever.
This particular Wendy's is on Lawrence Avenue which can be a very busy thoroughfare. As is common for me, the mandated time-out waiting for fries allowed me the opportunity to observe a few things that I would have otherwise missed in my attempts to make a quick left onto Lawrence without dying in order to make it home with fries above room temperature.
The first thing I noticed was a man in a beat-up old Honda something-or-other. He was parked at the curb on the side of Lawrence that I was on -- headed east. He looked nervous. He kept checking his mirrors. Then I heard the transmission crunch as he put it in first, pulled the wheel all the way left, and hit the gas. He made a u-turn across four lanes of traffic just like that. When he made it to the other side of the street, the transmission crunched again as he put it in reverse and proceeded to alternate between first and reverse in order to park the car on that side of the street -- exactly opposite of where he was parked before he risked his life to get the new spot. Once he was happy with the car's placement and parallelness, he got out and walked into the building that was right in front of the car. Odd.
Soon after the super-parker had disappeared into his building, I saw a family walking towards me. They were clearly coming back from the Sears that is a little east of the Wendy's. It was mom, three boys, and two girls. I would bet that the oldest was 12. Each child and mom had a bag from Sears. It was clear that each bag contained something that each had picked. The youngest, and last in line, was a girl. She decided to do away with her Sears bag and instead proudly carried her purchase unconcealed. In her arms she held a baby doll that was still securely fashioned to the box in a reclining pose. I know how tough those plastic ties can be. The doll looks like you could just reach out and lift her up from her nap -- when the reality is that she is permanently affixed to the box by her ankles, wrists, and neck. I loved that the little girl was so happy. She was beaming. She didn't need the doll to be free of the box to hold her baby. She had removed her mittens to wriggle her hands behind her new charge and the plastic ties that bound her in order to clasp her baby to her chest ignoring the box completely.
The youngest girl and her doll were last in the mother-and-ducklings line. Just as she had passed from my view as they crossed in front of the Wendy's, she reappeared with a smile and happiness upon her face even greater than what I had just witnessed. Her eyes and mouth were open wide. She was almost levitating with joy. Her brothers were working quickly to move past her. It was one of those "but, wait! there's more!" moments. Mom had just announced that they and their new purchases were going to eat at Wendy's!
I remember that kind of joy. My dad used to take each of us kids out to breakfast at McDonalds for our birthdays and I thought it was the best thing ever. We got to eat inside! We didn't have to take it home! I could get my own orange juice and drink it through a straw! I didn't have to share any of it with a sister or brother!
My fries arrived and I was struck that I thought of this trip to Wendy's as a nuisance, an easy way out of a no-food-in-the-house situation. A less-than-desirable quickie meal that required me to sit and wait in the fast-food drive thru. But for that little girl, a trip to Wendy's was the icing on the cake of the best day ever.
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