I knew that my Christmas this year would be a totally different experience without my own home surroundings, but the thing I dreaded most was the thought that I wouldn’t have a tree to put up. Even though I am notorious for “swearing like a sailor” when the lights don’t work, I so enjoy the tree lit up in the evening while reading or watching television. I didn’t need to worry. I came home after work one day to discover no Gay in the kitchen. Kent informed me she had been in the basement all day decorating. Kent said, “I forgot to tell her I sublet the basement to you.” Gay has a total of six trees she decorated and one with tiny wine glasses for me.
Son Cole made it home for the holidays. He always tops off the conversation with wise a _ _ remarks. Kent put on his new glasses and asked Cole if they made him look distinguished. Cole’s reply, “I was thinking more of the word ‘crusty’.” Georgia hugged Cole and said she had missed him on Facebook. Cole said one word, “Creeper.” I gave him a big hug and he commented, “That was awkward.” (Even I knew better than to kiss him on the cheek.)
The Christmas Eve attendance at the Swenson household was taken up a couple of notches from Thanksgiving—head count was closer to 55 people. Gay and Kent solved the seating dilemma by opening up garage space and setting tables in there, too. We all think that, since more babies are on the way, next year they should look into hiring a maitre d’ and waiters.
Music is always one of the best things to get me into the holiday spirit (and I’m not talking “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer”.) I always regretted that I only made it to Midnight Mass at the Catholic Church one time years ago ‘cuz it was so late for me. Gay told me that they now had it at 10 p.m., so I set a goal to attend this year. I was faltering at Georgia and Terry’s house around nine o’clock, so Jody urged me to have coffee (our Asti Spumante days are over) and we drove around and viewed the Christmas lights. I was so pleased with myself as I settled into the pew but was soon left wondering what had happened to all the traditional music. Gay neglected to inform me that they did the music at 9:30 p.m., so I got sermon time. Karma had a laugh, on me.
New Year’s Eve loomed up quickly and I decided I would round up my gang and go out for a meal at Twin Lakes. The older we all get, the easier it is to succumb to the lure of a recliner, but, once I get out, I’m glad for a chance to socialize.
Sleep eluded me on New Year’s Day, so at 5 a.m., I drove off in the mini-van and headed for Sioux Falls. What better time to surprise Janet and Pam at breakfast at the Pancake House. Surprised, they were! We chatted with mutual friends for over two hours until the foyer was so packed with customers, I felt guilty for holding up a table.
Saturday found me once again on the road with Anastasia Beaverhausen to Aberdeen to watch her grandson play hockey, then down to Huron to watch another grandson play his game. I was glad for wood bleachers because my butt cheeks were like ice as it was. Once again the GPS failed to give us proper directions to the arena by directing us down a private driveway and through a pasture. We did squeeze in some shopping, and I was so looking for a tablecloth ‘cuz it appears there is a shortage of them in some households. (There is a story behind this if you ask me in person.)
Sunday, I decided to make my first pound cake after experiencing a delicious one that Julie Amadon had made. (I think it actually weighed five pounds—it called for three sticks of butter!) If you ever have a scavenger hunt, put a Bundt pan on your list of things to find! After three stops, I scored one at George and Julie Bebout’s house. I entered the porch and discovered a collection of metal tridents (fish spears). I asked George if he thought he was fricking Poseidon. It took a long time for Julie to open the door, and I asked her if I had interrupted something. She replied, “Breakfast.” Yet, George didn’t have a shirt on and I spied a bare leg under his blanket on the couch. Hmmm?
Gay and Kent were in the Hills all week, so just to prove I can still be rebellious, I didn’t make my bed one morning.
2016 Here We Come
Dee Baby