In the Bleak(ish) Mid-Holiday-Season

 Not that I think anyone is going to bake the cookies from the recipe I linked to in the last post (oh crap, HI HELEN, hope you see this in time) but just in case anyone is, here's a PSA regarding something I remembered halfway through baking a couple of nights ago: choose a small-ish cookie cutter for this cookie, and roll out the dough quite thinly. I neglected to do either of these things the first time I made them, and the resulting first few cookies were terrifying - no one wants a hamburger-sized cookie coming at your face.

I was baking last night and trying to get the main floor clean enough to host book club today and my foot hurt and my arm hurt and my joints hurt and my back hurt and I had this wave of dispiritedness and thought that I can't keep doing this, or shouldn't, it's stupid to keep breaking myself. The salted toffee pretzel bark is probably the biggest hit of anything I make and it's the easiest thing. I should just make eight pans of bark next year and call it done. 

I didn't have the best sleep, but this morning I got up and took some Advil and moved slowly, and Angus got home about a half hour before book club people were due to show up. We weren't sure when he could get here because he found a place to get a free Covid test to come into Canada, but they said results would take two to five days, and he needed them within three to get across. Matt was annoyed - he quoted his Chinese colleague who once said "why you use Skype free version - free equals shitty!" I appreciated that Angus was trying to save us money but I kind of wished he'd just thrown money at the problem. Things improved when we realized he could just drive to the house of a friend who lives right across the border in Canton NY and hang there waiting for his results - they're really nice people who like having him. Then he did get his results last night and drove him this morning, so now he looks like a frugal genius.

So that was happy-making, and then we had book club and it was really nice - I kept panicking the last few days that I had forgotten to read the book, but there was no book, it was just a get-together. We exchanged Christmas cards with tiny things in them and I got two new tree ornaments that I love, and it felt kind of normal, and was very nice. 

Hugs and empathy to anyone who is running themselves into the ground trying to give their family a magazine-worthy Christmas. Anyone who isn't, teach us all your wise ways. 

Candles in the Window, Carols at the - what the heck IS a Spinet

 I feel like I'm doing that thing where I do NaBloPoMo and feel like I could blog every day forever and then it's kind of a relief not to have to blog one day and then it's almost Christmas and hello not blogging anymore. 

So remember the package I got that wasn't for me, that I taped back up to take to the proper house? Today I just went "hey, there's an unopened package on the table, what's that?" Sorry Emily, it's coming, I promise. 

I am feeling the seemingly-inevitable dread and pressure about getting everything done for Christmas and then getting mad at myself for feeling dread and pressure because I am a strong independent woman who rejects the patriarchal capitalist social structures that dictate that women are responsible for producing a Hallmark-worthy Christmas. I had to think for quite a long time before I remembered my motto for the last few years at this time of year: "Do what you can, and let the rest go." It's fifty percent bullshit - I do actually want to give my family a perfect Christmas. I just don't want to be a sobbing, hunched-over, crippled mess at the end of it all. It's a balancing act.

I did things a little out of my regular order. I had all the kids' Christmas presents in the living room (front of the house where we don't spend much time) because the kids aren't home so I didn't have to hide them downstairs in the storage room. Usually I'd put them down there then bring them up to wrap them, then bring them back down until Christmas Eve. This year I decided to wrap them and then bring them down, saving myself a few trips. As I'm reading this I'm realizing it is not remotely revolutionary, and I'm a little sorry I made you read about it. 

I have also written and mailed an entire box of Christmas cards, and it is December 8, a few days ahead of when I usually manage to start. I still have many left, and my kitchen table is still strewn with cards and photos and gift labels and stamps. I can't seem to go down my list of addresses in an orderly fashion when writing Christmas cards - I have to scroll up and down seeing who I FEEL should come next. I also found a stash of wallet-sized photos from past years that were left over so I've been sticking cards of adorable little Angus and Eve in some cards just for the hell of it. 

Today I'm baking my first Christmas cookies. I was trying to remember what the favourites were from the past few years, and one kind I couldn't find the recipe for - all I could remember was that there was cream in the batter and they were really good and a little different from everything else I made. I tried googling and going through my recipe files and no luck. Then I remembered emailing the recipe to Collette (HI COLLETTE) and did a search, hoping that it happened after I accidentally deleted all my emails. And I found it! Here it is in case anyone needs a new cookie in the rotation - they're really good. 

While I'm doing all the Christmas shit, I also try every time I'm in a room or space to grab something that shouldn't be there and either put it where it belongs or get rid of it. You guys, I have a LOT of shit in this house that isn't where it should be. I can't tell if I'm happy or annoyed that my blinders to that are still off. 

Feel free to drop a favourite Christmas recipe or tell me I'm a chump for doing Christmas cards  - the happy cheery messages do seem a little off-key this year. Plus I'm pretty sure I wrote something about syphilis in one of them. Maybe I should have skipped it. 

*a spinet is a an 'early harpsichord having a single keyboard and only one string for each note'. Huh. I thought it was a record player. I also thought it was spinnet.

Today I'm Blogging Because I WANT To, Not Because I HAVE To

 I was a little worried (okay, I was very worried) yesterday that going away and visiting Eve and Zarah, while absolutely lovely, had completely removed my previous energy and desire for cleaning and purging and Christmas decorating. Happily, today I feel quite a bit better. I also remembered something that I almost never remember when I'm home for the day, which is that I should not get up and shower right away, I should get up and wash my face and put on grubby clothes and do some stuff around the house I want to do and then walk Lucy and THEN shower. I was almost as happy that I REMEMBERED this order of operations as I was actually carrying it out.

I realized something last week as I was lying in bed in the morning thinking I should get up and do yoga before showering. I'm still thinking of anything that could be deemed exercise as a chore, even if it's something I like to do. Realizing this doesn't automatically solve the problem, but it's maybe a start? Today while I was walking with Lucy I didn't try to walk as fast as possible to burn the max number of calories. I let her stop and sniff stuff if she wanted to. I tried to appreciate the privilege of walking outside, on my own two (nearly functional) feet, seeing the trees against the sky. 

Also trying not to laugh at Lucy's utter dismay at this whimsical character

Not here for your Christmas bullshit

She did NOT appreciate him at all.

When I got home from my trip there was a small stack of packages on the table, which I briskly ripped open. Most stuff was expected, but with this I thought "oh great, I definitely wanted it but I didn't think I'd actually ordered it yet"

Then I took a beat and actually looked at the address on the envelope that I had just ripped open so gleefully, and it was not mine. So now I have a small dilemma. Do I tape the package up messily and deliver it, leaving the person to wonder what the hell happened? Or do I risk an awkward encounter to explain myself? Not to mention the fact that just now I had three very sticky labels to get off a new glass jar. Don't worry, the actual item remains unmolested. Still. It's a good thing I'm trying to be a better person.