Holidays

Twas the day before Christmas. I arose all bleary-eyed from my bed and made my way to the kitchen, where my wife stood facing me, wearing an apron, spatula in hand and with a large white chef’s hat on her head. I mumbled something to her—I don’t remember what—and she informed me the next time I spoke to her I should address her as “Madame Chef.” She was only half kidding; you don’t mess with a mother in her kitchen when she is holiday baking. I took the strong hint about the pecking order for the day and only reentered the kitchen when invited in to do KP on dirty pots and pans.


In the days leading up my name had come up in conjunction with that of one Ebenezer Scrooge several times but that is really not a fair comparison since Scrooge was rich and tight and I’m not at all rich. I only asked that when buying presents we first ascertain that there was a true need for the item by the receiver of the gift; don’t just buy to be buying. For example the bathroom scale had recently taken to giving my weight as 140 lbs; obviously something amiss there. One morning my wife took a bear paw swat at the radio alarm and knocked it off the nightstand after which it would not turnoff; so another good candidate for a present. During the holiday shopping I served only as chauffeur and napped while my wife and daughter shopped in the store—an excellent arrangement for all concerned.


When the big day arrived we had a couple inches of snow on the ground. At the church service we sang every carol known to Christendom which suits me fine since all the “joyful” lyrics on the radio are sung by someone who is crying into his martini at the bar of the later day mourners. At the two days of family get-togethers which followed someone must have thrown the naughty-or-nice scale right out the window because I made out like a bandit despite my less than sterling behavior. I only got stuff I really did need; maybe they think I’m about to kick the bucket or something. I can only hope that what we gave was also appreciated. I trust my wife’s instincts on that.


I enjoyed the family get-togethers and the day after was the best ever. I got up and had coffee and oatmeal cookies by the light of the lit Christmas tree IN THE QUIET. Later I went out for an hour-long walk in the snow and the pines and the QUIET. I took an afternoon nap. Yes Virginia, there really is Peace on Earth—times are back to normal. As usual I really get into the Christmas spirit a couple of days after the holiday is past.

Presents, Past and Future

If you are going to give your young one that special, must-have toy from China for Christmas, be sure to give him or her a chance to play in the cardboard box it came in. Kids love large containers to hide in. One of my earliest childhood memories was on my grandparents’ farm on a cold, gray day. I was just a toddler who got inside a bushel basket and then pulled another basket upside down on top of me. Encapsulated in my own little space to keep out the wind, I peeked between the basket slats to watch one of the last steam locomotives pull its cars down the track which bisected the farm. As I grew just a bit older, my brother and I made pretend cars and houses from large cardboard boxes.

Our own children interacted well with sock puppets and hand puppets from an early age, even though the puppets tended to be rude and crude and sometimes bit. Cookie Monster taught them alphabet and phonetics when they were quite young. My daughters also loved the marionettes that my wife made to sell at Christmas craft shows. Nasty little devils, those marionettes, they would dance and sing, kick each other, karate fight and sometimes attack small children from behind. Where did those marionettes learn their bad manners!

For me, Christmas presents do not begin with trolling the malls to see what’s out there, and hoping the perfect gift will pop into sight. Instead, I take a hot cup of sweet, lemon tea into a semi- dark room with a comfortable chair to think about people and make a list. What are this person’s wants, needs, interests and hobbies? One person dislikes cold weather; I’ll buy him a good pair of warm work gloves. Another is interested in her Irish genealogy and also thinks I have a good voice; I’ll make her a homemade CD of me singing some old Celtic ballads. Another person has displayed an interest in organic gardening; I’ll buy him a good book on that topic. Books are always a good idea for special interests or hobbies.

Once I emerge from my dark room with a list of appropriate gifts, one per person, (Hey, I know it is Christmas, but let’s not go hog wild!), I proceed to purchase each gift as inexpensively as possible. I can burn the CD of Irish songs for next to nothing and I do know this is what she really wants. I’ll pick up the best pair of gloves I can find at Rural King. I’ll buy all my books at Amazon.com for a third of what they cost in a bookstore. On-line buying is preferable to mall hassle and prices. As for buying for other’s needs, if I see that someone needs clothing or a couple new tires, that is what they are going to get. There…another year’s Christmas shopping complete…finis, the end. Bring on the nog and fruitcake!

Buying Christmas with Thanksgiving

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Thank giving Day is my personal favorite holiday. It is the least commercialized and the cuisine is actually very nutritious compared with all the sugars and fats of Christmas. Most importantly, Thanksgiving is all about family. The last thing I would want to do is cause my family and guests to think that while they were enjoying food and camaraderie, I was cynically calculating how much the meal was costing. On my word as a human being, nothing could be farther from the truth. Still, for many people the holidays are budget busters characterized by credit card swiping and loss of financial self-control. Since I have already described our typical Christmas spending at length in other writings, I will now describe our most recent Thanksgiving and attendant spending below.

We decided to celebrate Thanksgiving on Wednesday evening, since my daughter and her beau wanted to celebrate with his parents on Thursday. This was fine with my wife and me, since she had Wednesday off from her school job and could cook and decorate all day (which she loves to do) and since I’m a retiree, half the time I don’t know which day of the week it is anyway. My daughter had gotten a turkey from her employer which we had picked up a few days before and she also donated a gift card (which was about to expire) to a grocery store that we used to buy several bottles of wine. With the two most expensive items of the meal out of the way and with the stores running competing sales, the remainder of our feast was relatively inexpensive. We exceeded our regular weekly grocery budget by a mere $20.

Our guests arrived Wednesday evening, obviously tuckered from their workday and the long drive to our house. We all sat down at the table, gave thanks and let the food, wine and conversation flow freely the rest of the evening. The next morning, our guests surprised us by making us a big breakfast before heading out around noon to attend other Thanksgiving Day meals elsewhere.

My wife and I needed a brief vacation too, so Friday morning we took a scenic three-hour drive through farmland and woodlands to visit my sister who lives in the rustic Brown County area. We spent an afternoon in touristy Nashville, which had just finished its Christmas parade and was packed with people. The town was decked out for the holidays and someone who sounded like Willie Nelson was singing Christmas carols on the main street corner. My wife checked out the little artisan shops while I stood outside and watched hundreds of noisy migrating sand cranes circle overhead for half an hour. That night we went to Bloomington where my sister treated us to a meal at an Irish-style pub and we then got enmeshed in a throng of humanity around the courthouse for an annual winter fest to turn on the lights strung from all the street corners to the top of the courthouse. There was a lot of caroling, a brass band, Saint Nick, a clown and vendor food. The next morning, my sister took us out for breakfast to a backwoodsy little diner she frequents and we then went to the Bloomington farmer’s market where there were again carolers and an unbelievable crowd for this late in the year. As we drove home, my wife and I both felt we had enjoyed a quick, refreshing get- away.

I described our holiday to show that we really did have an enjoyable time, but how does all this relate to having money from Thanksgiving to put back toward Christmas? When the kids left Thursday, the fridge was so stuffed with food that we could barely get the door closed. The following week the microwave became our best friend. We had turkey fried rice; we had open-faced turkey sandwiches with mash potatoes and gravy; we had sweet potato and green bean casserole; we had turkey dressing with gravy and cranberries, and we had turkey vegetable soup. For breakfasts, we had deviled eggs; we had pumpkin pie, and we had hot rolls and jam. While we cleaned out our refrigerator the week after Thanksgiving, our sole grocery purchase was a gallon of milk. Most of that week’s grocery budget got dumped into the cookie jar to go toward Christmas or extra seasonal recreation. Even with our drive to Brown County, we had not exceeded our weekly gasoline budget and my sister fed us and gave us a place to sleep. Gosh, aren’t the holidays great!