Sunday, December 04, 2005

What Heaven smells like

A fresh Christmas tree. Um-um. Deck them halls, baby - tree's up, mantle's decorated, every room (yes, even the bathroom) is garland-ed. Almost finished - I stage everything in the dining room and it's still a mess, but I need to get it settled in the next day or so since it's my "Advent Room" (calendars, wreaths, etc.) And thanks to my recent paint-job, it's now a liturgically-correct dark blue. Don't want Advent to be over before I get the room ready, now do I? After that - just sit by the fire and smell the tree. And maybe a drink or two. Fortunately the smell of gin doesn't clash with the tree-smell, being made of juniper berries and all. Ah, Christmas!

Busy social weekend for Shorty PJs. Yes, Shorty PJs is (are?) in demand any time of the year, of course, but doubly so during Christmas-time. (Ain't it the truth? Ain't it the truth?) House and tree-decorating, a big family wedding reception, Garth's art show - well! Is it any wonder I didn't have time to blogpost?

Here are some things that I learned (or was reminded I already knew) over the weekend:

1. I'm still damn good with a handsaw. (Had to cut off the bottom of the tree and some of the lower branches.) And I can wrestle a spruce and whip it into submission - it never dreamed it could look so purdy.

2. The family cleans up good. My cousin's daughter's wedding reception was held at a local art museum, so we were in cocktail/semi-formal attire. And when we gathered on the staircase for a family photo - well, we looked downright presentable.

3. The aunts and uncles - are us. My mother, her sisters, and their husbands are all dead now (Mother was the last to go in March 2004), so that pushes us up to the top tier. And it takes some getting used to. The downside - we miss all of our parents, aunts, and uncles. The upside - we can drink something harder than iced tea at family functions! (That's a big upside, trust me.)

4. I'm either too busy or too damn lazy to write on the weekends. Why's that? Shouldn't I be driven to produce something on Saturdays and Sundays? Hmm?

Garth's show was fabulous, by the way, and the reception packed in. I saw a number of little red dots on the pieces, so I can't wait to find out what the final sales tally was for him. Wish I was rich enough to invest.

Hope all is calm and bright where you are (it's calm and dark and stormy in Atlanta).

2 comments:

Winston said...

I'm not a gin drinker (acquired taste blah blah) but there is nothing truer to Christmas in Tennessee than sitting by the tree or the "farplace" with a glass of rich, lumpy boiled custard (not that damnYankee eggnog stuff) that has been properly "flavored", as my Dad used to say, with a good stiff shot or two of Jack Daniels. Almost makes the custard curdle before you can drink it down. Yeee, dawgies...

MaryB said...

Why, I'm an old Tennessee gal myself, but I didn't learn to drink until I lived in England (which explains the gin vs. bourbon). I suspect there was some whisky-nippin' going on on cold winter nights at the family farm in Henrietta, but it was never done around us. Mother was a tee-totaler so it was never allowed at home in Chattanooga. (But she was a mean Rook player!)

What's yo' liquid puddin' recipe, Winston (or is it a family secret)?