Sunday, December 27, 2020

Back to gimmick-free writing, in which I can really, truly, and absolutely use as many adverbs as I wish. It’s kind of a relief, though I appreciated my No-L Christmas challenge. Yesterday we created the Christmas feast we’d planned for the 25th, and we embraced the fact that we didn’t have to leave the house for anything. In fact, we probably don’t need to leave the house for the next week, though I suspect doughnuts may be in the cards in a few days. It also occurred to me that in a week I will no longer be documenting the bizarre minutiae of my days. I can return to a life of mystery and quiet solitude. That doesn’t sound so bad, really. But we aren’t there yet – here’s how we handled our 26th:

Boxing Day

This is a British holiday which crept onto Canadian calendars and never left, even when we formally excused ourselves from the Empire. In the olden days, servants would be permitted to go visit their families and collect their tokens of thanks from their employers on this day, having had to serve their master-folk throughout Christmas. So the history of Boxing Day is that it was Christmas for the poor, in a way. They’d receive a ‘Christmas Box’, and dammit, they’d better be grateful for it.

In the newer days, meaning the entirety of my lifetime, Boxing Day has been a day of shopping. Boxing Day sales have turned into Boxing Week sales, and the day tends to eclipse Black Friday in terms of being the primary deal-hunting day of the year. I’ve worked Boxing Day in retail. At the computer store where I worked in the late 90s, it meant waking up before 6:00am on the day after Christmas merriment to stand in a store and watch people fight over discounted inkjet printers. When I worked at Radio Shack at our big ol’ mall in ’96, someone was literally stabbed to death just outside my store. What a fun day.

I expect photos will surface online of the Boxing Day crowds at the mall yesterday, but we were not among them. We adhered to our own Boxing Day ritual, which involves staying inside and enjoying our new presents in relative quiet. We read, we watched some football, we played some games, and we ate a tremendous feast (pictured above). It was exactly what Boxing Day should be.

National Thank-You Note Day

It’s a fine day to thank the folks who took the time and effort to brighten our Christmases with gifts. Our son got me a free six months of watching the Criterion Channel streaming service, something I had to give up when this project took over all my free time. The subscription begins on January 1, so that’s perfect. Others who gifted us with a lovely Xmas haul also received a note of thanks yesterday.

Everyone else who gave me a gift happened to be in our house yesterday, so they received their thanks in person. I can only write so many notes in a single day, especially when I have to report on all of it to you people.

The only thank-you note I couldn’t send was to my Reddit Secret Santa, a fun worldwide program in which I’ve participated for the last six years. I still haven’t received that gift yet. But I have faith it’s coming.

A thank-you note is a must in this era when we can accomplish the feat by punching at the screens of our phones for a few seconds. Make sure you let the folks who hooked you up with goodies yesterday know that you appreciate it.

National Whiners Day

This day was surprisingly concocted by a Reverend Kevin Zaborney back in 1986. The notion in Rev. Kev’s head was that we’d whine today, then realize that we should be thankful for what we have and appreciate our shit. And our people. This seems like a roundabout way to steering us toward yet another love-your-groovy-life type celebration. Why start with whining? Why not simply end with whining and let the 26th be a kvetch-fest for all?

The rules for this day are that you are not allowed to whine about what you did or did not get for Christmas, nor are you allowed to whine about what you do not possess. And you are also supposed to remember what you do have. Okay, sure.

It’s not fair that I still live in a place where winter exists for at least half the year. I hate the fact that Rosa, our #2 canine research assistant, has flatulence that evokes memories of demon-harvested sour eggs. And why must my coffee maker shut down automatically after two hours? Sometimes I drink slowly, dammit!

Okay, that’s enough whining for one day. I was in too chipper a mood to get up to any more whining than that yesterday. After all, I am grateful what I have. I was before Rev. Kev told me to be. I’ll credit this project for steering me in that direction on practically a weekly basis.

National Candy Cane Day

The history I choose to believe (it’s classified as folklore, but I have no problem declaring it to be empirical, factual history) is that a choirmaster in Cologne Germany decided he wanted to reward his kids for hitting the right notes by having some candy sticks made up for them. Because this was 1670, and sugary indulgence in church was frowned upon, he requested the candy maker add a crook to the sticks, so that they would invoke the shepherd-Jesus notion. Because kids often think about deep religious symbolism as they devour sweets, right?

The first recorded recipe for peppermint candy sticks shows up in 1844, so I suppose we can begrudgingly conclude that the story above is indeed folklore and not an actual recorded event. By 1920 confectioners had come up with machines to make candy canes, so at that point the treat was indelibly linked to the Christmas season forever.

And why shouldn’t they be? Candy canes are wonderful. We enjoyed a couple of mini-canes we had on hand yesterday, but I opted to post a photo from our last doughnut run, which was a week earlier. That’s the candy cane doughnut, and it was every bit as sumptuous as it looks. Tragically, our doughnut shop had closed up for the holiday, and won’t reopen until Tuesday. But that thing looks so much tastier than our little canes. It deserves the spotlight.

The final Sunday of our year, and the penultimate Sunday of the football season. How much will we really want to get up to? Here are our choices:

  • National Fruitcake Day. Nope. We bought one back in January to throw into the river valley for National Fruitcake Toss Day, but unless someone gifts us with a delicious home-baked cake today, we’ll pass.
  • Make Cut-Out Snowflakes Day. A craft project? Not our forte.
  • Visit The Zoo Day. Our zoo is closed. Actually, it’s blasting out a terrific-looking light show right now, for which we could not secure tickets weeks ago. Cool.

Saturday, December 26, 2020

A big ho, ho, ho to everyone, and a joyous party, however you wish to rock ‘n boogie today. Yesterday was the big one, I suppose – the day that everyone knows about, and pretty much everyone finds a way to honour. We did not stack up the events – in fact, we even bumped our Christmas dinner to today. Throwing together one extensive feast in a day is enough. We wanted (and scored) a nap. We had other (more interesting) things to do. In addition, we had candy and games to keep us occupied. Here’s how we spent the coveted 25th of December:

Christmas

No shit! We woke up and said a big, happy hi to our team baker (hey, ma!), who joined us after a dozen days of hiding out, making sure Abbey was not infested with that nefarious virus. She had requested to have more presents under the tree than any other member of the crew, and we were happy to assist with that. She has, as I’m sure you know if you’ve been tracking this madness, been a huge support in this bizarre project throughout 2020. She deserved each of those gifts – I’m quite positive we’d have been doomed without her.

Everyone was happy with their goodies this year. Jodie snagged a book rack shaped in the same manner as a New York City tenement’s fire escape. She received over a dozen framed pics of our amazing dog-beasts too. I scored a bunch of kitchen stuff, which I intend to put to good, consistent use over the upcoming year. Our amazing son got me a six-month subscription to the Criterion streaming service, so I intend to spend a great big chunk of 2021 catching up on some vintage and foreign cinema gems too. I can’t wait.

After our nap and the chicken parm we opted to cook instead of our prime rib roast dinner, we hopped into the car and headed down to take a drive through the shimmering vista of shiny magic in our city. It wasn’t cheap (forty bucks for the car) for one exhibit, but it was something to do with our puppies, and which kept us distanced from any infested dudes or dudettes in our city. Afterwards, we scooted about town in the darkened hours, checking out the street renamed to Candy Cane for this time of year. We finished off in front of a house with a fantastic music-synched show. Trixie watched with rapt attention. I think we captivated our dogs by exposing them to this shimmering magic. They adored every second of it. It was a genuine treat to finish off an otherwise near-perfect Christmas day.

It was near-perfect, just because our son and his significant other were not here with us. We had a great Zoom chat as we opened our gifts, but it wasn’t quite the same. Next year, when things are a bit more sane upon the Earth, we can gather together and do it right.

A’phabet

There is another word for this bizarre event, and it’s the same as the French word for Christmas. It kind of rhymes with Superman’s dad’s name. I can’t say the French word here, because the theme for this weird piece of mirth is that one must avoid that certain keyboard character. If you scan through this entire entry, you won’t see that character which rests between the ‘K’ and the ‘;’ on one’s keyboard. I have avoided using it, and intend to continue to avoid hitting that key right through the end of writing this piece.

There is a degree of difficu… sorry, a degree of adversity in achieving this feat. I have to choose my words with care and consideration, and avoid using any adverbs. I have but two entries in this day’s event roster, so I sensed it was the right time to crank up the strenuousness of the writing process, just a bit. In my previous writing project, which you can spend a few days pouring through here, I penned a thousand words without using even one ‘E’. That was much more vexing, I can promise you. I wasn’t up for that kind of hardship. I’m getting too… aged for that shit.

But it was fun. This is fun every day, even when it’s not.

Today we begin to witness whatever remains to cram into a year of constant merriment. We are running out of days, but not out of crap with which to stuff into those days. Here’s today’s menu:

  • Boxing Day. We shan’t be shopping. I hate shopping on Boxing Day, and I’m not taking a risk to see how busy and cramped the nearby stores are. There’s a virus out there, remember?
  • N——- Candy Cane Day. You know what that first word is. So do I. But I can’t use the character that ends the word, so just imagine the entire word is there. Anyhow, yes, we intend to eat these.
  • N——- Thank-You Note Day. I suppose we ought to pen a note or two for those who have made this season groovy for us.
  • N——- Whiners Day. This is a custom-made piece of perfection. We can take part in this one, no question.
  • Kwanzaa. We had hoped to participate in some event of some kind, as we know next to nothing about the traditions tied to this event. But it’s Covid, yadda, yadda, yadda. Happy Christmas, everyone!