A post in which Eve has surgery yet again, bless her

I had forgotten that when I stay up too late it’s the second morning that is the hard one. I awoke to that remembrance today. Again, I went outside for a cigarette (which I needed) with my coffee (bad, wicked, naughty) but didn’t tarry. It is really cold this week!

My boss gave me my Christmas present by leaving the office for two more weeks. The Canadian guru is on the road too, guaranteeing that everything will be thrown into a mess again this month. She didn’t get back with me on releasing her reports last month and everyone was in a tizz about it.

I got in touch with Lisa about what to buy Carl for Christmas. She doesn’t know either. Lovely. I hate buying for men. They are so hard!

My movie buddy Nancy is interested in going to see The Black Swan. Now that I’ve had a moment to read more about it, so am I. Hopefully we’ll be able to claw out a couple of hours to see it during its (assuredly brief) run here.

Eve had the surgery she’s been dreading today. I checked in with Dad this afternoon though, and she seemed to be feeling pretty well. I took the meatball sub she ordered to the hospital for her supper and she ate every bite of it. I had a sub with her (Dad had already eaten) and we hung out in the room and watched TV and stuff, pretty much as if we were at their place. Eve was uncomfortable, of course. The procedure today was pretty extensive. But she’s a trooper. After demanding that those awful anti-embolism 'gauchos' be removed (for which I couldn’t blame her a bit – they’re awful), she got out of the bed to stand up for a while and seemed to feel better.

I excused myself around 8pm and told them I’d check in tomorrow. I still have 8,000 things to do, but I didn’t do them tonight. I’m still worn out from the weekend, and I really just wanted to sit and enjoy the tree for a while. So that's what I did, irresponsibly. For some reason, my supper hadn’t satisfied me and I was still hungry. I had some junk snacks while I watched a bit of telly.

I’m going to absolve myself from any housework this weekend (except making lunches of course) and concentrate on the cook book. Hopefully I can get the recipes finished up, and then there will just be the coordinating, numbering the pages, and securing the copies to take care of next week. It's due in on the 18th, so I really need to get going on it.

I actually have more plans than I thought I did this weekend, as frequently happens during the holidays. Russ and Billy have a houseful this weekend: Joanne, Rob, Chris, and Kindle are coming. I’ll go over there for a while Saturday before I go to Donnie’s party. Then Sunday I can skip brunch and work on the book until I have to get ready to go to the Sunday night supper. The last I heard that will be at Russ and Billy’s as well. So quite a busy weekend coming up, and I’m not going to have a lot of time to myself this week. If worst comes to worst, I can tell Dad and Eve that I’m skipping next week’s visit. I told them I might have to do that. I guess it will work out.

In the meantime, despite my good intentions to turn in early, I lay uselessly on the sofa watching the Family Guy marathon until I finally decided to get ready for bed.

A post in which I go back to work

Well, back to the real world. I survived the weekend, so now I have only the remaining 8,000 things left to do. I slept poorly last night, and decided that coffee alone wasn’t going to cut it. I went out on the porch for a cigarette, but I only had one, and I didn’t stay long. As Bernadette says, it was butt-ass cold out there.

I plugged in the tree and got ready for work. Work was pretty usual. I’m winding up the presentations and starting the weekly reports.

I called Mama today to tell her happy birthday. She and Rod had been to Savannah for the weekend. That woman loves to go more than anyone I know. He took her out today and bought her a really nice leather jacket for her birthday, and it sounded like they were having a great time. Good for her.

After work I decided to run errands since Eve is having her surgery tomorrow. I went by the pet shop and the library, and then home to eat the last of the party food for supper. I’m eating pretty Spartan lunches this week, in part because of all the rich food I know is headed my way. But I wasn’t going to let the party food go to waste now was I? Besides there wasn’t that much of it. And I had a salad too, OK?

Feeling pretty wiped, I decided to turn in early tonight, and went to bed with Marty on TCM. I really do love that movie. I’m so happy that Earnest Borgnine finds love. He totally deserved that Oscar.

A post in which I put up the first Christmas tree in four years

In many ways I have been dreading today. First because the house had to be cleaned. It could no longer be put off. Secondly, of course, I had been dreading today because we were putting the tree up. I haven’t put the tree up since Michael left. It was up for that last, terrible Christmas because we had to separate the ornaments, and I really hadn’t cared anything about seeing it since then. The center of my tree for the last five years I put one up was a large Christopher Radko ornament I bought at Disney on our honeymoon, and I really didn't know how it would feel to see it again. But I was challenged to a personal growth task by the Kindred, and it was probably time to get it back out. Plus when I made the pledge, it seemed a year away, and safely distant.

Before I got started, I ate a decent breakfast and went to the flea market. I had to buy fruit, and wanted to look around for some Christmas gifts. I found the former, but struck out on the latter. I also unexpectedly found myself on the verge of tears several times. I was thinking this was not a good omen. I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sick of listening to me whine too. But it’s the truth.

When I got home, I got stuck in and made the dust fly – and about fucking time I did too. I knew what had to be done, and what I wanted to get done, and I did almost all of it. This took some time. In the end, the house looked pretty good, and I was tired. Everyone was late, but that gave me time to do the little things like wash the wine glasses (Russ had given me a bottle of red to open to commemorate the occasion). About the time I sat down, Russ and Billy pulled in. And that was a good thing. I didn’t have time to get broody. I’d been too busy today to really dwell on it.

They burst into the house in an exuberant tumult, and I was tickled to see them. Billy had brought snacks with him, and thank goodness he did! I’d been so rattled about the whole thing that snacks even crossed my mind, unbelievably. Since the rest of the gang was running late, we went ahead and got all the stuff down from the attic. I put the tree together and fluffed it.

Shortly afterwards, Jeff, James, Amanda, Morgan, and Andrew spilled in the door. We poured wine, got them settled in, and I started trying to direct people toward the tree. Jeff, as I had hoped he would, just took over. He of course re-fluffed the tree, then fixed the lights. He and Billy did the garland, and after that we got the ornaments out. Billy took over the suddenly very complicated job of ordering the pizza, and in short order it was there. We ate, and then everyone chipped in and hung ornaments. I even hung a few, and that was the last thing I was intending. Usually I re-live the memories of the ornaments I've collected through the years as I put them up, but I was content to let everyone else get them out this year. I found that I had gotten the big ornament down by mistake, and Billy hung it for me. It was OK. There were ornaments I was very glad to see; some of them have lovely memories attached. Russ had brought me an ornament to commemorate the occasion. It was so thoughtful of him. I was quite surprised to realize that I was having a very good time.

I had thought that having my friends around would make this procedure bearable, but they did so much more. Surrounded by people I love and having the house full of laughter and conversation was deeply satisfying to me in a way that I can’t adequately describe. My house felt like a home, not just a refuge. I am such a lucky, lucky man to have such wonderful people in my life. My cup truly does runneth over. There are times that I have to remind myself of that, but tonight was not one of them.

When the tree was done, we just sat and visited and talked. I made coffee. I hadn’t gotten any dessert, but there was a frozen chocolate pound cake in the freezer, so I just popped a couple of slices into the toaster oven and served that. Morgan and Andrew gave us all exquisite little Hanukkah cards with lovely little notes inside. Almost before it seemed possible, it was over, and they were going.

I straightened up the house happily, with only one mar on the occasion. As I was putting mugs away I broke one of my hand-thrown pottery bear mugs. I love them, and had paid a good bit for them, but when you use things (like hearts? too schmaltzy?) they get broken sometimes. That's just part of life.

I spent just a moment admiring the tree before I turned it off and got into the bed with a thankful heart.

A post in which I attend my first ever pie party

I awoke this morning with pretty much the best of intentions, which I then proceeded to wreck. I fooled around on the computer for a while, rationalizing that I wouldn’t be able to get anything done before I had my hair cut at 10:30 anyway, although I certainly could have. I breakfasted on left-over cream horns from last night, since they are, after all, one of my favorite things in life. Bad idea. Because of the hypo-glycemia, I really need some protein on my stomach in the morning to keep me from having a sugar crash. I know this, and I know better than to do that.

I did get the car loaded with some stuff for Goodwill and got to the shop on time, but I was starting to feel yucky. By the time my haircut was done, I had a headache. Russ gave me some snacks from his treat jar though, and I headed out. I dropped the stuff at Goodwill and went to the grocery store. I picked up pie supplies, lunch, and a bag of beans for soup to take for lunch this week. I felt great in the store, smiling at strangers and generally being obnoxiously pleasant, but by the time I got home, put the groceries away, put a load of laundry in, and ate lunch, I felt like crap again. It was obvious to me that I would have to lie down for a while if I was going to be worth a damn at the party tonight.

I felt much better when I woke up, and started shuffling towards the kitchen to begin the pie-making. Since I had two crusts anyway, I made two an extra quiche to eat on this week. I made Billy mushroom quiche with scallions. They smelled good, and turned out pretty. I was cleaning the kitchen when Nicole called. She was in the midst of the day from hell unique to someone who works in retail during the holidays, plus her fridge had died and she hadn’t been able to make a pie. Donnie had canceled, and she was just generally frazzled. I took two calls from her, settled her a bit, and prepared to be welcoming.

The house needed to be cleaned. I had planned big doings today which sadly had not occurred. But that didn’t stop me from fixing up a bit. I dusted the living room and did some other small cleaning jobs while I waited for her. I had time to make sure that the house was attractively lit and ready to receive a refugee from the unkind world. It's kind of nice to have someone to do for - I don't have that very often. Nicole showed up, pretty much as frazzled as I had expected, but I insisted that she remove her coat, sit down, and relax for just a minute before we left the house. She poured out the trauma of her day and seemed to feel better. We chatted for a bit, and that minute turned into over an hour.

We were late for the party, but that was fine. It was just around the corner from the house anyway. The pie party was in a small pottery gallery in City View, of all places. Now I had been over there before, but had you told me in my 20s that I would be going to a pie party at an art gallery in City View, I would have laughed and laughed. I had been expecting 18 or so Jell-o pies and my homemade quiche, but I had very much under-estimated the competition. These people had brought it, and although my regular quiche is quite good, I immediately dumped my thoughts of winning any kind of prize for my pie.

There were all kinds. Notable was one pie that had a carved vegetable dragon on top with a font of fresh watercress spewing from the open mouth. Not that tasty, but very pretty (there was a category for Most Beautiful Pie). There was a gooey chocolate pie that had to be tasted to be believed – truly a pie-gasm. There was an incredible gratin of sweet and white potatoes in a buttery rosemary crust that just had to be tasted to be believed. Not really a pie, mind you, but who cared? Another interesting idea was a Cherpumple pie. The guy had stacked a cherry, pumpkin, and apple pies on top of each other, kind of covered the whole thing in cake batter, and baked it. I can’t imagine what he cooked it in. It looked like a soufflé, but it was free-standing, and I’ve never seen a spring form pan that high. There was a store-bought crust filled with plastic kazoos, which resulted in an impromtu kazoo accomniment to the music later (there was a WTFWYT category, which is what I assumed the goal was).

The talk was good-natured, but I got the impression this was one of those parties (as are some of those I attend) where everyone kind of knows each other. They all seemed to know more people than I did, and they all seemed a bit more hip and fashionable than me. I knew Nicole. Period. Maybe it was just that most of them were straight, I don’t know, but I seemed to be unable to find my niche. I tried talking to a couple of people, but they basically just drifted away. Adding to the problem was that we had arrived at the party just as our appetites peaked. I had eaten two plates of pie. It was just a bit of this and a bit of that, but all those pies seemed to have taken up some kind of mad and vaguely nauseating square-dance in my stomach. I usually have an iron stomach, but tonight it felt like aluminum foil.

Nicole was tired too. She’d had a very long and trying day. She made her goodbyes and introduced me to the host, who was a very nice man. We adjourned to my place for drinks and chat, but the events of the day had drained both of us, and I needed to lie down and stop moving my gut around. She stayed for a little bit, and then went on home. It was an interesting evening, I did do something new, and I got to spend some time with Nicole. That's a win.

A post in which I begin to panic

about Christmas. And high time I did too. I was suddenly overwhelmed today. This weekend is the busiest one I have for the year. I have:
-- a pie party tomorrow night, for which I have to bake a pie
-- the whole gang at my (incredibly nasty) house on Sunday to trim the tree
-- a cookbook due in by the 18th, which is not complete
-- three (3) Christmas presents purchased
-- Christmas cards to send
-- plus I have to get my hair cut tomorrow
-- Eve going into the hospital on Tuesday
-- God only knows what going on with Dad's kidneys
-- and, oh yeah, work.
Yeah, it's high time I started to panic. So I was sitting at my desk quietly freaking out when Fran called and talked for a few minutes. She made me feel better. You just take things one at a time, right? Eventually everything will get done. By next September.

But seriously, she helped me put it in perspective. Presents are only an internet click away, God bless it. The pie will get baked, and then I get to go to a great party with Nicole and Donnie, although Nicole told me today that it will be outside (and I'm like what?). My friends Sunday are coming to see me, not the house. If I clear the most egregious of the cat filth, they're not going to care about the house. They love me and are coming to help me. Fran is great.

All this put me in a much better state of mind for the evening. dana invited me over - yay! - and I was able to relax and enjoy it when I finally made it over. I went by Russ's shop to pick up some stuff he wanted me to take over there, then home to change and feed the cats, then to the grocery store for dessert (dana has had to go back out for dessert the last two times I've been over there, and I didn't want her to have to do it tonight), and then to Long John Silver's for a quick bite of supper. I LOVE LJS. It's a guilty pleasure. They have the absolute worst fast food you can possibly buy, but I love it anyway.

They were having a rough night at the LJS tonight. There was a family of 6 milling around in front of me, so I knew my food would be late tonight - the one time I didn't bring a book in with me. Sure enough, they seemed to have ordered at least one of everything on the menu, plus the kids were all play fighting while they milled around waiting. Plus there was no carbonation in the root beer. Plus the sweet tea was almost gone, and not very sweet to boot. Plus I ordered a medium fry, and when I did get my food I could have counted the fries without moving anything. But they were very nice, as always. They have the nicest staff in that store. Plus I figured that I didn't really need more fries in my diet anyway. So I gloried in the fried splendor of the meal, and then headed for Miss Kat and dana's.

I know I should have stayed home and cleaned, but screw that. It's Friday night, and I had to navigate the labyrinth that is the Canadian presentation this week. Plus I think we all know how likely it was that I would actually clean anything tonight - not bloody likely. Plus I'm just not going to stay home and clean when I'm invited out by friends. Life is too short for that.

It was great to see Miss Kat and dana, as always. The 'gourmet' brownies I picked up at the grocery store were a big hit with Miss Kat, and I had gotten a half a cherry pie for dana. We relaxed and visited and caught up from the week. It was a really nice evening, as always. They are such good friends.

So I came home, turned on the TV, consumed half of my refrigerator, and went to bed.

A post in which I am a bit maudlin

Work is grinding me down. The month end procedure for Canada is torturous. It was better than last month in that a) I knew it was coming, so it wasn’t an unexpected lump in my in-box – I needed a bit of loin-girding time; b) I do have some familiarity with the information this month, albeit a glancing and incomplete familiarity; and c) I haven’t cried this month. I’m counting my blessings where I find them.

I stopped off at the pet store and then went back to the grocery store tonight. I had to have something to take to lunch tomorrow. I do find small things that make me smile. That’s encouraging. This evening, it was a rather nondescript woman in a pair of sassy red boots. I was glad she wore them. Another one was the sight of a small boy at the grocery store with his father, clinging to his dad’s big hand. Sometimes little things just overwhelm me, and it’s all I can do not to embarrass myself. But I am hoping as long as there is capacity for joy there is a hope for the future.

When I got home I had to change the sheets since I hadn’t yet done it for the week. About bloody time, but then I was gone for three nights last week, so it wasn’t disgusting or anything. I folded the load in the dryer, and put flea stuff on the cats. It is crossing my mind that I have TONS to do this weekend. I have a pie party on Saturday night, and the whole gang is at my place Sunday to put the tree up. The house is definitely not gang-ready. This is the busiest weekend in December, and to top it al off, Russ has been suffering with his tooth this week, so I have to go to get my hair cut on Saturday. I guess I’ll get it all in somehow.

My copy of Xanadu came in today, and I put it in as I ate supper. I had intended to go to bed early, but then got caught up in it and had to finish watching it. I know, in the logical side of my mind, that it’s a dreadful movie – absolute dreck. But I appreciate the cheesy awfulness of it because it was made when I was growing up. The schmaltzy sentimentality of it appeals to me, not because I buy it really, but because I miss the point in my life where I did. It’s so nice to think that love conquers all, that there is a perfect match for everyone out there, and that it will all work out in the end. I guess that’s one of those reasons I’m one of those saps who demands a happy ending at the movies. There are enough sad endings in real life - that’s not what I want for entertainment. So when I get misty-eyed at a stupid movie, it’s because I miss the young, sensitive Steve who believed some of it. I mourn him, and at the same time hope he isn’t completely gone.

A post in which it is the weekly supper with Dad

Today was almost as bad as I had been dreading. I tried to stay calm and just work on one thing at a time, but by the end of the day I was frazzled and drained. I worked a half hour of overtime because I was meeting Dick and Eve for supper, and Dad doesn’t close the shop until 6 so he’s always late. It did give me something to look forward to at the end of the day though.

We had supper at Portofino’s, and it was as good as always. I decided to try something different tonight and had the cannelloni, which was excellent. I hadn't had any for a while because veggie cannelloni is hard to come by around here.

We went back to their house afterwards for a visit. I found out some bad pieces of news tonight. First, Eve’s old surgery site (which they have opened three times now) still isn’t healing. This has been going on since July. She is scheduled for surgery on the 14th. They’re going to have to take the tissue out of her back for a graft and see if that will heal. It’s a fairly drastic step, and means still more pain and suffering for her. I feel so bad for her.

The other bad bulletin on the health front is that Dad is having kidney problems. His creatine levels are at dialysis level now – bad news. He really doesn’t need another health issue. I do feel bad for him, but I had to resist rolling my eyes a bit when he shared with me tonight that he thinks his continuing health problems are due to all the medications he’s been on through the years. I love my dad, but he’s been digging his grave with his teeth for over twenty years. If it helps him to have someone else to blame, though, so be it. I am of course sorry to hear of another problem he has to deal with.