I am fighting off a cold. I am at the wheezing, snorting, napping and occasionally coughing stage. Last night I fell sleep sitting up on the couch. I woke up at midnight and, of course, wasn’t tired. Afterwards, to pass the time, I read, played a few games on my iPad and watched more wonderfully bad black and white movies. I went back to bed around six.

When I was a kid, I had a set bedtime on school nights, but I usually cheated. I’d have my flashlight under the covers so you couldn’t see any light, and I’d read. Every now and then I’d surface to cool down a bit. I’d read until I got caught or until I was tired. I’d also use my plastic bed lamp under the covers. It hung over the headboard. I’d move it to under the blanket. get settled and read. Under the covers got really hot. I used to sweat. Eventually, night time usage took a toll. The plastic lamp parts melted a bit. That always perplexed my mother. I never told her. What’s life like without a bit of mystery?

When I was young, every school day went as expected. The only unknown was my lunch. Dinner would be meat and potatoes and a vegetable. We’d have cookies for dessert if any were left. They went quickly in my house. We’d watch a little TV before bed. I swear just about every program was a western. I’d go upstairs to bed, sneak read then fall asleep. The new day would dawn and we’d do it all again. There was a huge degree of certainty.

Christmas is still here but in pieces. Decorations from each room are on tables waiting to be boxed away until next year. The tree, though, is still decorated because its ornaments go into one storage bin of only tree ornaments so they’ll go last, and the other, the scrub pine tree, gets covered as is. The obstacles to my finishing this task are the boxes. They are still in the cellar just waiting to be filled. I need to start carrying the boxes upstairs, filling them then carrying them back downstairs, tasks I keep delaying.

I have no system, except for the trees, for packing Christmas away. That is utterly contrary to everything I do, to all the notes, all the preparations in numbered order by day, lists stuck to the table and everything labeled. Years ago, in my younger days, each box held all the similar decorations like all Santa’s and trees. Each box was taped and labeled. I still have a few of those long ago organized and labeled boxes but which now mean nothing. I put in anything which fits into the boxes including old glass ornaments wrapped in bubble paper. Year to year the filled boxes are packed away, unlabeled. Next year I’ll bring the same boxes upstairs and be surprised when I unpack the decorations Willy nilly stored inside from this year. Surprise is a neat feeling still, especially at Christmas.

This entry was posted on January 12, 2025 at 2:41 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.