5 Days Left

Since we aren't driving to Buffalo until tomorrow (cross your fingers and toes), I took some time today to review my 22 for 2022 list and start working on my 23 for 2023. 

This is the first year I have tried the ritual, and I give myself a load of grace, both because it's a new experience AND because doing anything on such a list seems better to me than not making one at all. My near final tally? Is 8. I celebrated my birthday in a beautiful place with my family, threw a dinner party, solved my aunt's DNA mystery, grew Hatch chilis in my garden, read 24 books, reinstated our Oscar weekend, spent Thanksgiving at the beach, and saw my dear friend Pauly for the first time in too many years.

"What are some things you didn't get to?" my sister-in-law asked this afternoon.

"I didn't clean out the attic," I sighed, "or take a class. I also didn't go away for a spa week or weekend, but I put that back on my list for 2023. And I wanted to travel internationally, but that didn't happen; although there is a chance we might go to Canada if we ever get to Buffalo."

"Does that even count?" asked my nephew's wife. She lives in Iceland.

"Kind of?" I shrugged. "Oh, and I also wanted to go cross country skiing or snowshoeing."

"It's definitely not too late for that," noted my sister-in-law, and I realized how right she was.

As soon as we got home, I climbed to the attic and fetched my snowshoes, feeling ever more prepared for our trip north.

The Blizzard

Our original plan for Act II of this upside down inside out Yule was to rise at 4:30 as usual on Christmas morning and, instead of flying to Atlanta from Buffalo, hit the road for Buffalo from home. Such an itinerary would place us at Heidi's folks right around lunchtime, and close to her brother's scheduled arrival from, wait for it, Atlanta. 

But the great Christmas Blizzard of '22 had other plans for all of us, and even now, 2 days on into the historic storm, Heidi's parents have 3 feet of snow in their driveway, their street hasn't been touched by a plow, the NY State Thruway is closed from Rochester to the PA line, there is a travel ban for all but emergency vehicles in Erie County, and the airport is closed at least until Tuesday noon. At present the death toll stands at 12, but officials are expecting it to rise as the storm subsides and they find the many missing cars and people.

As late as yesterday evening, we still planned to drive as far north as we could get today and spend a night, if necessary, in a hotel an hour or so away, but that plan was iced, literally and figuratively, by the possibility that it could be a few days, not hours, until we could actually get to their house. Heidi's brother's flight has been canceled and rebooked twice, and now the earliest he can fly in is the 29th. Heidi's mom's reaction to the news was right on point. "Boy oh boy. What a revolting development," she texted while taking a break from the snow blower.

Even now, we're not quite sure the best course of action, although we are ever hopeful that tomorrow will offer some clarity. Rumor has it the travel ban will be lifted at 7 am tomorrow, but who knows how long after that it will be until the neighborhood is passable?

There's also a chance that Heidi's brother can make it here in time for the three of us to venture north together. I'm on board for that! Surely we can make it there before the 29th.

And Don't Forget to Hang Up Your Sock

Our upside-down Christmas did a few more somersaults today. At 3:30, we gathered at Bill and Emily's to open gifts and do stockings before heading out to dinner. Our stockings are in Atlanta, though, and so we all designed and decorated a plain white gift bag to stand in for the handcrafted stockings my mom made years ago.

The results were phenomenal!

(More on the blizzard in Buffalo tomorrow...)

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.