’twas the night before Christmas!

We just got back from attempting to pick up “the other half of” my present at Wal-Mart, only to find that it has been officially tagged “lost in transit,” isn’t carried in the store, and had to be re-ordered (with an arrival date of 1-6-10). While I don’t know what it is, I suppose I can wear the brooch without the added diamonds . . . ride the bicycle without the wheels . . . read the book without the autograph. We’ll see! (As Gramma used to say)

I picked up another couple of stocking stuffers while I was at it, and three more pumpkin bread mixes. The Pillsbury Quick Bread in the blue box, pumpkin bread variety, was a HUGE HIT and was immediately consumed. Hubby said he couldn’t stop eating the one we’d kept for ourselves. So I figured I’d bake him another, just because it’s Christmas. And we need the heat from the oven: the temps have dropped significantly since we brought in the last of the groceries, and the D/FW Metroplex is supposed to be sugared over by late tonight, with up to three inches of Snow (!) sticking. We’ll see!!

The sense of melancholy has lasted, despite our best attempts to be Givers and Santa-types this past week. We did our usual Angel Tree (and the most fun I’ve had so far was picking out toys and size 6x clothing!), did a nursing home visit to take Pinky (Mama’s best friend) a fruit basket and a “personal care items” basket that turned out to be urgently needed (but the nursing home was a downer, as you might expect–she’s there because her insurance wouldn’t pay for rehab after all, and she can’t go home until her bones knit up a bit more), met hubby’s family for the annual gift exchange, made a flyover to our doctor’s office and two neighbors’ homes with stacks of home-baked breads and a trivia game gift, and even drove around to look at the lights. But . . . still a sadness prevails. I suppose this happens some years. You never appreciate your magical childhood (flawed though it may have been) until you’re the grown-up with no one to lay a magical childhood onto.

We’ll try to get up to visit my aunts and uncle and cousins on Christmas Day, unless the snow really does show up–in which case we’ll go on the 26th or 27th, whenever it melts. Maybe that’ll give me a shot of the ol’ holiday cheer. Sometimes I think it would be better if I were a drinker!

But, anyhow, blogging might be sporadic for a while (or not, if we’re snowed in). If we don’t read one another until afterward, here’s wishing you all the brightest of holiday magic and a sparkling New Year’s Eve/Day.


Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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