The Sunny Side

The temperature dropped over 40 degrees in just a couple of hours today, freezing the residual puddles and and runoff into solid ice by late afternoon. It was frigid, and as Annabelle reminded us several times, the windchill made it feel like it was even colder. 

But what can you do? We bundled up, built a fire, huddled beneath blankets, and bided our time. The worst of it should be over when we get up tomorrow, and from there it will go up to a balmy 24. Temps will rise steadily through the week, especially for my sister's family, who will be in the Dominican Republic by Christmas afternoon, enjoying 82 degrees beneath sunny skies.

Universally Onerous

Every job seems to have it.

"I have to do some work this afternoon," my brother-in-law told us as we were planning to go shopping. "I still have 8 hours of mandatory training I have to finish by the end of the year."

We found him lying on the couch a couple of hours later, his computer droning at him from the coffee table. He paused the playback when we entered, but once we filled him in on our purchases and plans, he hit the spacebar again. 

The tinny voices coming from his laptop speakers could have been the same ones that narrate our hours of obligatory training. The content was focused on accounting and tax returns, but it was no dryer or more exciting than our slips and falls and mandatory reporting sessions.

And despite not being my own requirement, I found it intensely oppressive nevertheless.

Happy Coincidence

I was dropping Lindt truffles in a bag when I heard my name. "It is her!" giggled a young voice. 

Looking up I saw a couple of students from last year. "You caught me!" I laughed. "Buying chocolates."

"I can't believe we saw you here!" said one.

"Well," I shrugged, "I do things away from school sometimes, y'know. What are you guys up to?"

"We're shopping for chocolates, too," answered the other girl. Just then an employee approached us with a bowl of free samples. After we all had a truffle on the house, the girls turned to go.

"What about your chocolate?" I asked.

"We just had it!" one called over her shoulder. "Happy holidays!"

Glad I Did

 I did not want to go.

I was feeling cranky from sitting around all day waiting for things to fall into place so that we could go out and run errands. And when at 5 PM our drop-in guest headed home after a 2 hour visit, I was anxious to head out right then. But the dog needed a walk, and then our neighbors texted to suggest tonight for our annual holiday light crawl and gift exchange. There really wasn't another night before Christmas that would work, so I grumbled and sighed and even stomped a bit before bundling up and heading out into the second longest and definitely coldest night of the year.

I began to relax right away as we passed the twinkling lights of our own neighborhood on our way up the hill to where we knew the most impressive displays were located. It seemed later than 6 PM as we walked the streets admiring all sorts of lights and characters, no one was around but us. We made it to what has historically been the most impressive display: an old farmhouse bedazzled with tens of thousands of lights on every surface and even adorning the 70 foot trees that tower above it. 

Oohed and aahed out, we continued on our way a couple of blocks to another really lit house replete with a front yard full of holiday figures. "Those are the two best," I shrugged, "but let's go around the block before turning back." 

It was there that we found the treasure of the evening. A house with an electronic music and light display so professionally executed we might have paid to see it. We stood across the street watching what can only be described as the show, as lights flashed and danced and changed color along with holiday music. There was a pixilated screen in the center of the roof that added to the show with glowing holly, pulsing sunrises, and dabbing Santas.

In the middle of the spectacle a Tesla pulled up, and a couple greeted us. We assumed they were there to enjoy the show, until they crossed the street and entered the house. It wasn't too long before the guy came back out. He wanted to be with folks who appreciated his creation. He gave us a bit of an inside scoop: he was a professional cameraman; he had been installing the lights since October; he had programmed all of it himself. Then he used his phone to show us a couple of songs we'd missed. 

"Well, I'd better head back inside," he said after 10 minutes or so.

We thanked him again, both for his time and his amazing creation, and then turned to go home ourselves, confident that we had seen the best lights there were.

Shopping Local

One of the things I am looking forward to when I finally retire is to spend a lot of time at the museums downtown. Of course we know how lucky we are to live less than five miles from some of the finest exhibits on the planet, which are all open to the public for free, but knowing and going are two separate things, particularly when life and traffic stand between the two.

A few months ago we were walking on the National Mall with some friends and their dogs when one of them mentioned a monthly museum group she had once belonged to. Much like a book or dining out group, they picked an exhibit and met there. The wonder of such a plan cut through some of my how-ever-will-I-spend-my-time retirement angst. 

Even so, I resolved to get down there a bit more frequently now, before I retire, especially now that COVID protocols have eased. And today? We did just that, although not exactly in the way I had imagined. Our holiday shopping done with the exception of stocking stuffers, we remembered how fun the gift shops at the National Gallery have been in the past. That, plus the Christmas Market up by the National Portrait Gallery, made downtown seem like a good destination.

And it kind of was: the post-pandemic economy has taken a bit of a toll on inventory in many places, museum gift shops among them. It was still fun to look, though, and a good reminder of all the treasures that are really no more than a few minutes away.

So Much Funakkah

We were invited to a neighbor's Hanukkah open house this afternoon, and as is often the case, I was reluctant to go. This time my excuses included the fact that I still wasn't feeling 100 percent, and there were so many holiday chores here at home, but attending the party was pretty much non-negotiable, and so I put on a nice blue sweater and boots and off we headed. 

It had occurred to me earlier in the day when I was wishing that I could stay home, put on a Hallmark movie, and wrap gifts, that this was the type of gathering that the folks in those movies always enjoyed. Sure, they had their gift wrapping scenes, but seldom were they at the expense of meeting with spending time with people, and never was the TV on.

And this party ended up being way better than running errands or checking off things on my to do list! There were neighbors to catch up with, pups to pet, babies to hold, brisket and latkes and chopped liver, and we played Dreidel and watched Adam Sandler on YouTube. At the end our hostess explained the tradition of the menorah, and she and her sister said the prayer as she lit the shamash and then the first candle.

And as we walked home, I felt like the holiday season had truly begun.

Thanks, Universe

My stomach is still a bit tender, and so I headed to the grocery this evening for some frozen ravioli, the same kind my mom used to serve when we were kids. Back then I would have given anything to be able to eat those round little ricotta-filled pillows with nothing but butter and salt, but my mother insisted that we have it with the homemade meat sauce she had prepared. 

The ravioli themselves were precious, counted out before they hit the boiling water, so that each of us only got so many. I'm not sure if they were expensive, and that's why they were so strictly regulated? Maybe so, because they were a rare treat indeed; more often we would eat boxed vermicelli with our red or clam sauce.

Anyhow, my appetite is still not back to 100% from that lingering stomach bug, and sometime this afternoon it occurred to me that plain cheese ravioli might be a comfort to my unsettled stomach, so off I went with the intention to buy just as much as I wanted, and when I got there? They were half price! 

That's gotta be a good sign.