Looking ahead to Christmas: now we can finally celebrate!



So Advent is almost over, but as most of you know the Christmas season really begins on December 25, as we celebrate the Feast of the Nativity. In the pre-commercialized past, traditional celebrations of Christmas really kicked in as everyone celebrated the twelve days of Christmas from Christmas Day to Epiphany on January 6. That's what the song refers to, obviously. That's also what Shakespeare is talking about in his play, Twelfth Night; in his time Twelfth Night, or Epiphany, was a time of revelry, when everything was topsy-turvy -- like the capers and shenanigans of the play.



In my crowd, we try pretty hard to stick to these old ways. The husband and I host a swingin' party on December 26 every year -- traditionally called Boxing Day in England (for reasons that are explained various ways by various sources).  A couple of days later we will all gather at Mr. and Mrs. K.'s home to sing carols and eat fabulous cookies and drink fabulous wine. We will also play The Name Game, which I have also played in its guise as The Colander Game. Either way, I will do well in this game if I am seated next to The Mother. Not that I am competitive, or planning my strategy already . . . .



On New Year's Eve we go to The Mother and her husband (so is he The Father? I don't think so, but I'm not sure why . . . ) for a black tie swanky soiree. Yes -- I said "black tie," and get this: it's so swanky, the invitation says "white tie optional." Boom.



And finally, on January 3, my whole extended clan of beloveds will meet at my sister's house for our family Christmas celebration, along with a rollicking game of "Dirty Santa." The primo gift last year was an ear wax remover, but I've got a few surprises up my sleeve this year; I think I can top that. This will be our last loving look at the Soldier, who will deploy to Korea on January 7. A brand new graduate of West Point and the field artillery school, he will take all, all the prayers with him when he goes -- please add yours to the pile!

+++++++



Again with the looking ahead, the Advent book for today is actually a great story to read on December 26 -- the Feast of Saint Stephen. If you know the carol you know that the good king and his servant boy went out into the cold winter night on the Feast of St. Stephen, "when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even." This little book tells the story of the carol. It's a sweet one!

Snapshot: the best hair glamour


The sunny girl did it again:  right before Christmas, she got a sassy new haircut!  Her adorable bob swings to just below her chin, and she feels so easy breezy as she goes about her day.  And the best part is that she was able to donate eleven inches of beautiful hair to LOCKS OF LOVE, the fabulous non-profit organization that uses these donations to create wigs for children who have suffered hair loss.

The sunny girl is the Jo March of her generation! --
She came walking in with a very queer expression of countenance, for there was a mixture of fun and fear, satisfaction and regret in it, which puzzled the family as much as did the roll of bills she laid before her mother, saying with a little choke in her voice, "That's my contribution toward making Father comfortable and bringing him home!"
     "My dear, where did you get it? Twenty-five dollars! Jo, I hope you haven't done anything rash."
     "No, it's mine honestly. I didn't beg, borrow, or steal it. I earned it, and I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.
      "Your hair! Your beautiful hair! Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty. My dear girl, there was no need of this. She doesn't look like my Jo any more, but I love her dearly for it."  As everyone exclaimed, and Beth hugged the cropped head tenderly, Jo assumed an indifferent air, which did not deceive anyone a particle, and said, rumpling up the brown bush and trying to look as if she liked it, "It doesn't affect the fate of the nation, so don't wail, Beth. It will be good for my vanity, I getting too proud of my wig. It will do my brains good to have that mop taken off. My head feels deliciously light and cool, and the barber said I could soon have a curly crop, which will be boyish, becoming, and easy to keep in order. I'm satisfied, so please take the money and let's have supper."
                                                                            Little Women, Chapter 15:  "A Telegram"
                                                                            -- Louisa May Alcott, 1868-69

Snapshot: Spa Day!


So Coleen and I took ourselves out for a spa day last Friday -- fabulous! And no.  The spa we went to did not require us to share a water bed with a weird Marie Antoinette drape and a comforter from the early 1980s.  We had to go all the way to England to hit that.


The spa we went to was a little more upscale, and we didn't wear our p.j.s -- although I would have been totally down with that.


Then we went out to lunch, and ate delicious food, and when the waitress came by and asked us if we wanted another glass of wine, I said, "No thanks, we're fine."  And then Coleen gave me a sad face and kicked me under the table -- and I said, "Well, maybe just one more."  And the waitress nodded approvingly. "It's Friday, ladies."