Yesterday I ranted because I'd had enough on the topic du jour. Today, because the universe must be kept in proper balance, I feel the need to set a bit more lighthearted tone, and help pave the way for the arrival of the Jolly Fat Man.
No, not Bill Clinton.
Yes, I'm talking about the impending visit of Santa Claus, whose arrival began to be heralded in stores soon after the Fourth of July, right about the time that swim suits disappeared from the stores to be replaced by mukluks and padded coats (fashion note: be careful of those down-filled, quilted vests...I used to have one and, in the words of a classic "Shoe" cartoon, it made me look like an aging hand grenade). I've been hearing Christmas music since at least September, and I'm tired of seeing the Norelco shaver commercial with Santa riding the floating heads over the snow-covered hills. Some days I think Ebeneezer Scrooge and I would have understood each other well.
On the upside, yesterday I mailed off all the Christmas cards that didn't have The Letter inside (see here if you don't recognize the reference); those that get The Letter, and those who live overseas, will have to wait until I can get their cards weighed at the post office and sell enough blood to be able to afford the postage. The tree is up and decorated (thanks to the children's work crew that did the job over Thanksgiving...you read about that here). The outside decorations are up, too. Today, I plan (ha, ha) to start wrapping the gifts for our distant grandchildren so that I can get them in the mail and have them arrive in time for Christmas. One of our time-honored family traditions is the ritual Mailing of the Packages Too Late, Even Though the Gifts Themselves Have Been Purchased for Months (that sounds more eloquent than just admitting I'm a world-class procrastinator).
Still to do: order the ham for Christmas Eve (I so love standing in Disney-quality lines with a million of my very best friends at the Honeybaked Ham store), order the specially-sliced meat for the Rouladen for Christmas Day, and update the Christmas music music selection on my iPod (I'm waiting anxiously for the sort-of-promised Christmas Mix from The Mistress of the Dark, who has been posting great new (and old) Christmas music on her blog for the last week or so). Also need to call the Weather Channel and put in the order for the White Christmas (oops...can't do that...might inadvertently offend anyone who isn't white, and I don't need the lawsuit. Sigh.).
Well, okay, I've spent about 45 minutes rambling my way through this post. Time to recharge my cup of coffee and read the Sunday paper before Agnes gets up and thinks of all the things "we" need to do today (I refer, of course, to the linguistic phenomenon known as "Feminine Pronoun Mutation," in which the inclusive pronoun "we" is understood to mean "you," as in "you need to get off your big, wide backside and do this today").
I didn't spend four years getting that degree in Linguistics for nothing!
Have a good day. Sixteen days until Christmas. Copies of my gift wish list available on request.
More thoughts tomorrow.