CALENDAR CRUNCH

It must be almost December.  Things are beginning to pile up around me and I find myself slipping into denial about how much time I have left before I need to cook a turkey.

My Face book memories reminded me the other day that a few years ago I had all the shopping/cards/decorating done and it wasn’t even the end of November yet.  I was a little shocked at this, even to the point of checking to make sure I was on the right page.  I didn’t think I had ever been that far ahead of the game – and if I had, wouldn’t I have remembered it?  But, the page was mine, the post was backed up by comments from trustworthy people I actually know, it looked legit.  I still half think it was fake news.  I didn’t think it was possible I could be early ready for Christmas.

Then again, they do talk of such things as Christmas miracles. 

It’s not looking too much like I’m getting another one in 2019.

It’s not that I have nothing done.  I have a few gifts bought.  Well, more like partly bought.  I have half of what I want to give to a few people, all squirreled away in various closets and cupboards, plus a bag I just remembered in the back of my car.  One gift has already been delivered and is in use, two more are going to be delivered closer to the big day, and the gifts that have to go the farthest (Australia) are not even a solid plan in my head yet.  I’m going to regret that one, I can tell you.

What I really need is to clearly write this information down in list form so I can see where the empty blanks still are.  I might be pleasantly surprised that I’m further ahead than I think.

The one thing that I actually have all done is my Christmas letter.  Well, the writing it part is done.  I still have to buy the Christmassy paper to print it on, get the copies made, and address all the envelopes to the folks who get a paper letter.  Because I send so many I have switched to email for anyone whose address I know – so much quicker to send ... except that this year I lost all my contacts info and have to start from scratch.  On second thought, even the thing I thought I was done, I am not done.  That’s depressing.

Yesterday, since the ladder was up at the house because we were changing light bulbs in the porch, I sent my husband up to the attic to retrieve the Christmas lights and decorations.  This is a good thing, right?  Now I can get busy decorating whenever I feel like it.  I no longer have the excuse that the decorations are out of reach.  I realize now how much I was relying on that excuse.  Now I have four large tubs of tinsel, baubles and lights taking up all kinds of space in my TV room.  A smart person would decorate immediately and store the tubs in the basement.  A smart, energetic person.  I’m not sure I qualify on either count there, but I do recognize what is necessary.  It’s a start.

With all this talk of other holiday activities one must also face the biggy – Christmas baking.  The grocery stores all have baking ingredients on sale – they know it’s time.  My Face book friends are starting to post pictures of all the goodies they are brewing up in their kitchens – they know it’s time.  It’s the time of year for bake sales – they know it’s time.  The thing that I know is that if I start baking now it will all be eaten and I will have to do it all again in a couple weeks.  I’m going to save all kinds of work and reduce my caloric intake by the thousands and only make butter tarts once.  I’m crafty like that.

And then there will only be one more thing before the turkey goes into the oven.  Some quiet Sunday afternoon I will haul all my treasures out, gather paper and scissors and tape together, and wrap up Christmas.  Nothing is ever done until the paperwork is done, right?

And that will remind me it is almost January and that the paperwork of tax time is waiting for me next.

IN DENIAL

There is no ignoring the progression of the days.  Granted, the weather has warmed up this week so we’re dealing with fog and rain instead of snow and ice, but the calendar still says we are past mid November.  This forces me to face the following unalienable truths:

1.       The Christmas shopping cannot be put off any forever

2.       I have already received my first Christmas letter (it was a late 2018 one, but still)

3.       Since I’m staging the family feast this year the baking should commence sooner rather than later

4.       And did I mention the Christmas shopping thing?

I’ve been trying to get my head around it.  With pen and paper I have written down a Christmas gift list.  Well, to be completely honest, only half a list.  I have done the side with the names on it.  The side with gift ideas needs work ... a lot of work.  And sadly, there’s every chance that I will discover that the name side isn’t complete either.

Armed with this flimsy outline of what I need, I have wandered around a few stores and found nothing to inspire me.  I’m not blaming the stores, mind you, they had lots of things to choose from – I just am not a natural born shopper.  It’s a rare day when I am actually in the mood for browsing/shopping/spending money.  I think the last time it happened was in 1999.

Also I am not the kind of mom or grandma that thinks the spirit of Christmas is shown in large, lavish gifts.  I’m into giving pyjamas and books and maybe one little fun thing to do like a puzzle or game.  It seems pathetic that even with the bar set so low I still can’t seem to motivate myself to get the job done.  It’s times like this when I fantasize about being the little kid and my greatest Christmas dilemma was that I would be expected to ‘at least try’ the Christmas pudding, and then wait six more eons before the dishes were done and we could open our presents.  Ah!  Those were the days.

But, meanwhile back in the real world, I have to think of and then find small, light weight, Canadian themed gifts for the Australian family.  As usual they will have to be sent airmail which costs more than the gifts will, but that is totally my fault – the cost of procrastination.

Next I have to figure out what sizes all the Canadian grandchildren are, go to where children’s pyjamas are sold, and choose wisely so that everyone is happy with whatever superhero/dinosaur/animal/robot that they get.  No pressure. 

Likewise with the book store choices, but there is a hidden pitfall with me and book stores ... I go in and may never find my way back out again.  If they served Timmie’s coffee instead of Starbucks I would only re-emerge in spring and from there would migrate straight to a plant nursery and disappear for at least another month.  These are two places where I can spend all kinds of time and money.  Unfortunately this does not help me with Christmas shopping. 

I play with the idea of running away from home.

 

I’ve considered gluing November’s calendar page to December’s.

Conversely, I might put up a 2020 calendar, starting the year at February.

Are there specific vitamins a person can take to get them through a shopping day?

Could a hypnotherapist put me in a ‘you love to shop’ trance?

Or, do I just have to do this the old fashioned way?  

THE GENIUS’S WIFE

For everything there is a season for every activity under the sun ...

I was thinking of this bible verse (or the song Turn, turn, Turn by the Byrds in the 60’s) the other day as I tackled yet another of my seasonal jobs.  The seasons roll along and those of us with yards and gardens roll along with them.  We know all about ‘a time to sow and a time to reap’, ‘a time to kill (potato bugs) and a time to heal (the apple trees the deer ate)’, and depending on the whims of Mother Nature we also are well acquainted with ‘a time to weep and a time to laugh’.

This year I even took my yard beautification a step further and installed a rock border/pathway around a large new flower bed I had started.  It took me one complete season ... gathering the stones together, keeping the ones shaped properly for the job and throwing away the rest.   For sure Ecclesiastes chapter 3 verses 1-8 do a good job of describing a gardener’s life cycle.

But, even after the last of the deck pots have been stored away and the squirrels have been gifted with the rest of the sunflower heads, there is still more to do.  It’s a smart girl who gets out there before it’s too cold and the ground is all slippery with ice and snow and gets her Christmas lights up.  I have found that it’s much less treacherous standing on metal ladder rungs while wearing dry shoes, as opposed to snow covered boots.  I much prefer stringing lights through the branches of a twenty foot blue spruce on a sunny day in October.  They don’t have to be plugged in until December 1, but the hard part is already done.

Well, except if someone actually put the lights up the wrong way (Who even knew there was a wrong way?!!!!) and ended up with the male end of the light string AT THE TOP OF THE TREE.

But that’s a story for another day.

Thankfully, with age comes wisdom.  Every year I take away a little new knowledge of this job.  I know that when I can’t reach any higher I can gain four more feet by using the fork end of a wiener roasting stick.  Then I use a short step ladder plus the forked stick.  Then I affix a two prong attachment to the end of a telescoping pole meant for clearing snow off the roof and use that.  We do own a taller step ladder but that just doesn’t seem like a good idea with sixty year old bones and frozen ground.  This is the age/wisdom thing kicking in.

When it came time to get the lights out from storage this fall I found evidence of more wisdom.  One of the strings had come off the tree damaged last spring.  I had actually had the presence of mind to set it apart from the others, identify the broken wire, and show it to my husband to see if it could be fixed.  I vaguely recall the conversation ....

Me: See how the wire is pulled out of the socket? Could you fix that?

Him: I can fix anything.  I am a genius.

I did not argue this point; he has some pretty impressive fixing skills.  But also he is good at procrastination and I wanted to put the Christmas clutter away.  The wisdom I want to brag about here is that I had the presence of mind to stick a label on the broken end so I would remember it needed attention before it was already installed in the tree.  The label said “The genius said he would fix this in the fall.”

This fall, when I showed him the note he calmly looked at it and said “They are on sale at the Coop.  Go buy a new one.”  That’s not his normal kind of fixing genius.

I did go buy more, but there is too much Scottish blood in my veins to just throw something away.  With nothing to lose I thought to myself “let’s see what a genius’s wife can do.” 

You know ... There is a time to tear apart, and a time to mend together ...

So far, so good.  The fix involved what I had on hand; Gorilla glue and Gorilla tape.  If I can manage to place the weak spot with enough slack so that the wind can’t pull it tight I think it’s good to go.  Meanwhile I have a whole new set of lights, I may need another extension cord.