Christmas Cheer

People get so doggone mean and ornery around Christmas time. 30 below with the wind chill tonight and I can’t find my long underwear. I’ve figured out how to improvise by tucking sweatpants into my socks. Blocked a manipulative lard ass from my FB yesterday, who had managed to access my page by befriending 127 of my friends. She had created that identity Sept. 1 which seriously creeps me out. I could set permissions differently but I want to keep my page public. BTW that name was given her by a household member she is stalking and he usually doesn’t say things like that. He keeps a box of the stuff she has sent him in case he ever has to take action, and he calls it the Loony Bin. I wonder if she has ever heard of a restraining order.
One reason I find Christmas miserable is that the long nights give me time to reflect. I never established Christmas traditions of my own. The elders I celebrated with passed away, one by one. I know I’m inviting well-meant advice (that I don’t want) by writing this, but I AM a writer and I dig down into the truth sometimes. It’s not always pretty. Another set of thoughts is that Christmases of the past weren’t always idyllic. Sometimes they were obligatory and rife with disappointment (which had nothing to do with gifts). This year I will spend Christmas Eve at church and with friends. Christmas Day I will cook something. And I will hear my dad’s voice saying, in his Minnesota Norwegian way, “Well, another Christmas just bit the dust”.

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