Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Socks and Underwear

No one needs anything.  No one wants anything.  Socks and underwear and comfy sweat pants are on every list.  Beyond that, there are no special requests.

I know who likes what -  color and thickness and support and show-vs-no-show-vs-I-don't-want-them-to-fall-down.  I shopped a little on-line, not considering Black Friday and Cyber Monday, shipping most of it to myself at FlapJilly's house.

Though the thought of the pool and sunshine was tempting, the kids felt like Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without snow.  I agree that it's hard to fully embrace the season when I'm wearing shorts and a tank top, but, somehow, I think I would survive. 

But that's where they will be so that's where we will be. 

Being absent for the main event makes decorating for Christmas somewhat of a non-event.  I was finished after two boxes and one hour.  A friend complimented my restraint.  I have two niches reserved for Chanukah; that decor is in one small box and will fill those spaces nicely when the holiday begins.

Until then, I'll be baking brownies and packing them and shipping them with notes on stationary I've bought and saved and found hiding in surprising places.  I have good pens and return address labels and The List is up to date. 

I opened the cedar chest and found stickers and gift tags and wrapping paper and bags and their accouterments neatly arrayed on wooden trays and in metal tins, organized by type and size.  I thanked my last-year's-self for being so thoughtful.

Everything is touched with a memory.  We put tags on top of tags on top of tags, reusing bags and boxes, some inherited from Nannie, so that the packaging becomes part of the gift, a blast from the past, a smile before the treasure inside is revealed. 

I love this time of year.  I don't need snow. 

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