Welcome Christmas, fah who rah moose...

The very best part of Christmas is the giving & receiving of gifts. The second very best part of Christmas is lazing around in one's pyjamas. I'm happy to report that both of these elements have been present in abundance this year.

Happy wriggling bare feet...

Christmas Eve was a bit strained this year, as the Boy's mother suddenly let us know that she would not be part of the mass gathering on Boxing Day and thus would we be able to visit on Eve or Day? The only reason this became a problem is that I was typically inarticulate about my expectations for Christmas Eve, and while I shouldn't have to file an itinerary several weeks in advance, I should be a little more vocal instead of assuming that everyone (read: the Boy) would already know & understand my plans. After several angry laps around my old neighbourhood, we were able to hammer out a compromise: church and the Sommers' annual Christmas gathering on Eve, and a visit to the Boy's mom early on the Day. It actually worked out perfectly: we were able to stuff ourselves with hors-d'ouvres and chat pleasantly with church folk on Eve, and then visit with his mother after morning gifts and until it was time to visit my grandparents. If we hadn't gone, we might've found ourselves bored on Christmas Day - an adult complaint if ever there was one.

My uncle was a bit cranky when we got there, but it's been a difficult year for him, what with moving to North Bay, starting teacher's college, having to drop out because he needs to be in Toronto for ongoing treatments, moving in with my grandmother and eating from a greatly restricted diet on Christmas Day. It actually worked out that Nic could and did eat some of my uncle's "only food left" soup - there's plenty of good veggies in there and not a speck of animal stuff to be found.

(Actually, Nic is eating anything he likes these days; although he still fasts periodically and almost completely abstains from meat, he has been known to eat cheese and even steak from time to time. But my grandmother just got the concept of vegan through her pointy little head; it'd be waaaaay too much trouble to explain this newest wrinkle in the Continuing Saga of Nic's Diet (Subtitled: I Hate All Food!))

By the time my parents arrived, we were more than ready for the main course and then, of course, the presents. I'm pleased with my Xmas haul this year - not a bum gift in the lot. Of course, this has been the year of the sweater for me. I suppose that it's because I'm a grown up teacher lady - and I really do need cardigans. My grandmother bought me a long black one that will prolly double as a coat when spring decides to arrive. The Boy's mother gave me a chunky brown one that is just as imposing in its own way. But I also have a very nice necklace and a few well-chosen books to keep me busy. I'm pretty happy.

On Boxing Day we made the traditional expedition south to the mass gathering of the Boy's family. Every time I go, I can never get over how nice everyone is...they all talk kindly, they all laugh freely, and they all sing with joy. The Boy's generation is beginning to reproduce, which neatly coincides with the last crop of his mother's generation and resulting in a whole lot of youngsters running around (though never frantically, and hardly ever tearing up). I got to hog the new baby a bit, although cuddling with her made me long for my own rather a lot. I know intellectually that it would be financial suicide to have a baby before the Boy is graduated - but it doesn't stop the longing. Never mind that I have no idea when a baby would fit in with all of the loafing the two of us manage - it's not like a baby can be turned off like a phone.

Ah well.

The two of us were able to score major points late in the night when it was discovered that the Boy's grandmother had forgotten her medication (ironically, they are to stop the advancement of memory loss). Knowing that we had nothing better to do, we immediately offered to chase after them. Well. You would've thought that we had cured cancer by the looks of wonderment and gratitude on the faces around us. I don't mean to belittle their acknowledgement, but you must understand: the Boy & I really like being put out in the service of others. It's part of our Jungian profiles - we derive deep satisfaction from going the extra mile, simply because it's unusual. I guess you might say that we like having people in our debt, but it's more like we enjoy act more than the gratitude.

Anyway, we got more than enough thanks when we arrived with the pills. Over the past week, the Boy & I have been taking an overnight bag wherever we go, with the idea that we may be stranded by the weather. This came in very, very useful when the Boy's grandparents asked us to stay over the night. The four of us talked until midnight, then we were shown our Honeymoon Suite. I slept the clock around; the Boy, wired from too many coffees, awoke early and spent a happy morning with his grandfather. It was a beautiful day: quiet, relaxed, and full of clever conversation. Exactly what I've always wanted in in-laws...

4 years ago today: "How's married life?"
"It's the best decision I ever made"
"Better than getting that beer?"
"You know, it comes pretty close."