We wake to a crisp, dry day and the promise of a clearing sky.
Good morning cheepers. Welcome to Christmas Eve day. I don't really know how old you are and how many such days you've clocked in already, but I hope this one gives you what you like -- just a touch of sunshine and a calm world around you.
We eat breakfast in the sun room. I review the meals and gatherings scheduled for the next three days. Ed's head may be spinning from so much time with family, over food, with the noise and clatter that comes with it, but in the end, he is always with us and not unhappy to fill his plate and watch the revelry. The grandpa who has forgotten that he's supposed to be grumpy during the holidays.
I wave him off to give blood and go to the basement to do a load of laundry.
And of course, this is the day our septic system decides to implode.
We have a flooded basement.
Come back, Ed!
But, but I have to give blood...
You have to laugh. I've lived here nearly four years and the first time we had a septic clog was on the day before Thanksgiving. My little girl points out that our septic system has a sense of occasion. Indeed! It's as if we need a reminder at the time of holidays and parties and festivities that the practicalities of life matter. That you cannot take for granted all that is handed to you each day.
Needless to say, finding someone to push through the willow roots that most likely have invaded the pipes yet again on Christmas Eve is a challenge.
But I, too, run away from the disaster. I have Snowdrop to visit this afternoon!
I'm there in time to feed her lunch. Look, little girl -- pear slices and strawberries! The ones you picked at the market!
But she is curious about all the activity around the house. Dad downstairs rustling and pounding, mom banging pots in the kitchen... what's going on there?
Still, distracting her isn't too hard. We have our games! Playing with the camera's self timer, for example.
Let's do a double selfie! (Is there a name for that?)
But when her mom starts reaching for ingredients in the pantry, Snowdrop scoots like a torpedo to the kitchen.
Those are hot pepper flakes, Snowdrop.
(Seems like a good rattle to me...)
Little one, where is your other shoe?
(I took it off of course.)
Of course.
While Virgil the cat looks on.
I lure her to her favorite books...
And that's just grand for a handful of minutes. But then she is back by the tree, reaching for an ornament, taking off tags so that she can "study them" with care, then toss them aside...
Finally the afternoon draws to a close. Before leaving I take a photo of the young family's first Christmas Eve as a threesome...
And then I drive home, where Ed (thank goodness) has found his bud with the gizmo that unplugs septic systems.
All is calm.
Dinner? Last year Ed and I went out to a very mediocre Chinese restaurant on Christmas Eve. That was the New York in him speaking. This year we opt for takeout food from our favorite Thai place.
If you celebrate Christmas, or even if you merely have kind feelings toward holidays and celebrations, then please accept my heartfelt wishes for a Merry Christmas. With love.