Santa was a cheapskate, but we loved him
Friday, December 18, 2009
Christmas is a week away and I'm actually less behind -- which is not to say ahead -- than usual for this time of year. Tis the season to be stressed out, tra-la-la... Most of the shopping is done, and gifts are in the mail. The cards are done because there are no cards to do. A few years ago, I decided holiday gang emails made a lot more sense than snail-mail cards, which ate up huge amounts of time, mostly because I insisted on writing a personal note on each one. (Don't you wonder what's the point when people send cards and simply write their names on the bottom?) I no longer even feel guilty about going the electronic route. I'll tell you, it's liberating.
We still get real trees, though. Jenny and I brought home a beauty of a fir last week that cleared the nine-foot ceilings with two inches to spare -- YES! -- and now it's twinkling in the front window, covered in decorations that tell the story of our children's artistic endeavors over the years, beginning in pre-school. My favorites are the paper angels they made one year with photos of their faces pasted on below halos made of pipe cleaners. Oh, where have those little angels gone? Whisked away and replaced by mutant teenage alien life forms that make strange monosyllabic sounds and eat incomprehensible amounts, mostly of ice cream. Thank goodness for those ornaments that lock fleeting innocence in time.
Pulling out holiday decorations always gets me thinking about my own childhood and how magical Christmas was back then. At the invitation of Book Club Girl (bookclubgirl.com), I recently wrote about the holidays of my youth and the very special, oddball Santa who dropped down our chimney each year back in those days. You can read it here:
Happy holidays, everyone! Group hug!
posted by John Grogan at 9:26 PM