I have finally gotten all the stuff I ordered, so other than wrapping, I'm ready to go. Well, there is one sweater that is due Dec. 23, but that's OK. It still feels like N should be here, doing all the outside decor and more of the tree trimming, but I just don't have the heart to do it. It will even be strange on Christmas morning, as he was the one who handed out the gifts, one at a time so we could see how everyone liked the choices that were made. He was also the chef for the steak and trimmings that is our traditional menu. None of us have actually ever cooked steaks. So, a little anticipation there. Given what steak costs, it is to be hoped that it turns out great.
I was thinking the other day about blogs that don't exist anymore. Back when I started, way back in 2004, I remember one blog supposedly written by a British call girl that was quite amusing. She stopped writing because she got an offer to put her musings into a book. Supposedly. I don't remember her name or the name of the blog, so I can't google to get the whole story. There were others; most only lasted a few months, for whatever reason, perhaps just boredom and failing to come up with things to write about. I, of course, have never been at a loss for words, a factoid that was frequently found on my report cards many many years ago. No point in trying to change now, is there?
If my sister was still alive, she would have been 70 in March. She's been gone for 12 years. When she was alive, it was a crisis a day, and I was supposed to mediate whomever she had pissed off. It got really really old.
She was the first of all our relatives to go, due to a fall. Now there is no one left except me and 3 cousins (out of eight) that I haven't seen more than once in the last 20 years. All the earlier generation has been gone years too. It makes Christmas a little bleak, and maybe we try too hard to be jolly. Ho? Ho? Ho? Hello? But it is what it is.
Definition for the day: "OCD : Obsessive Cat Disorder." (We have 6)