“It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story.”

Today is cold. The high is right now at 34°. I was out earlier as I had PT then I shopped at Agway. I got plenty of dog food cans but forgot the dry. I’m finding my mental lists tend to loose a few items from here to there. I’ve used mnemonics, but I didn’t this time. I was sure I’d remember.

Even when I was a kid, the week after Christmas was slow. If it was cold enough, we’d go skating at the temporary rink in Recreation Park. Sometimes we’d skate at the swamp. Once in a while, we’d take the bus to the MDC Rink in Medford. I remember the bus made a stop at the New England Sanitarium and Hospital. That’s where I was born. The stop was in front of a beautiful old stone building. Student nurses lived there. I’d see them sometimes in their white uniforms and stiff caps. I skated until my feet began to hurt. I remember on the walk home my feet felt strange out of the skates. I was tired by the end of the day.

I’d read my new books. I always got books for Christmas. One year I got the book Alive, the story of the rugby team whose plane crashed in the Andes. They were there 10 weeks before being found, and only 16 of the 45 passengers were found alive. They stayed alive by eating human flesh. I read that book all day Christmas Day. My mother told me I should be saving it, not reading it so quickly. I pondered that and rejected it.

Our Christmas dinner was always in the early afternoon, usually around two. It was always spectacular, special. We had turkey when I was little, but when I was much older, we had a rib roast or a crown pork roast always accompanied by potatoes. My father was the original meat and potatoes guy. We had the squash dish which appeared on every holiday table. The rest of the vegetables, except for my father’s canned asparagus, varied year by year.

After the dishes were cleared and the kitchen put to rights, the table was laden with desserts: heaps of cookies, maybe a pie or two, whoopee pies, date nut bread and candy, my English toffee. We’d eat dessert in the living room. The tree was lit and the presents were stacked in individual piles. I’d look through my stocking again. Christmas Day was always the best day of the year.

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4 Comments on ““It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story.””

  1. Bob Says:

    Hi Kat,

    Today was another clear gorges day. We started oit at 21°, so we ran all the faucets in slow streams to prevent the pipes from freezing. The high was a cool 54°. Tomorrow we are predicted to warm up to a low of 40° to a high of 69°. We won’t have to keep the water running tonight. 🙂

    The week before New Years was always a let down after the religious holidays. This morning we went to see the movie, “Babylon”. I don’t know if I liked it or not. It’s a long journey about the movie business in Hollywood in the 1920s and 30s. It’s filled with lots of drunken orgies and F bombs. A weird but interesting flick.

    I have to come up with something to fill up the next few days.

    • katry Says:

      Hi Bob,
      It is 28° right now. I just got home from uke practice. My car barely warmed up by the time I was close to home. Tomorrow will be 41°, and we’ll have 50’s this weekend.

      I liked having the week after Christmas off. It was sort of a winter reset. When I was a kid, I played with my toys. When I was an adult, I went out with friends or just hung around the house enjoying doing nothing.

      This week I was busy the last couple of days. Now I can rest.

  2. lilydark Says:

    Today is cold and rainy. It’s been a good holiday for me.
    It’s about 55 here with a light rain. The day I see Vienna Teng, it is supposed to be pouring rain– and I’m taking my wheel chair. I had a nice a nice Hanukah dinner– matzo ball soup and chocolates ( not at the same time). Guess who got into the soup while I wasn’t looking.
    Lori and….

    • katry Says:

      Hi Lori,
      Cold at 55°? That is downright balmy. I was thinking today was warmer than it has been, and it was 28°.

      I hope it doesn’t rain, and you have a perfectly wonderful evening.

      Gee, I wonder who got into the soup? In my house you’d need only one guess.

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