My friend Marsha gave me this festive gnome
I considered, pondered, thought about, intended, and one hundred percent meant to post something for you last week.
There was even a more-than-concerted effort to connect with you yesterday.
But here is how it all went down.
On December sixth -- Wednesday before last -- I developed a sore throat.
That is never a good sign.
This display adorns the foyer table
However.
By that Friday, I was convinced that my strong constitution and immunities had fought off a vile holiday illness.
Erica was suffering from a cold as well so I texted the girls and told them I was pretty sure that a mild cold had brushed past me in a noncommittal fashion and was in the rear view, no longer posing a threat to my person.
Yay, we all agreed. Erica was feeling much better too.
Then that night came. Friday night. This was eleven days ago.
This metal disc came from Mast General Store
It was a bad night. No good sleep. A great deal of discomfort.
Saturday came and I had some responsibilities that required me to be both vertical and presentable.
In addition, TG and Audrey and Dagny and I had planned to go out to dinner that night, to Midwood Smokehouse.
I wondered whether I should go, and ultimately decided that since I was hungry and had already got through most of the day without disastrous consequences, like dying, we would stick to the plan.
We were going early -- meeting at the restaurant at four thirty -- so I knew I wouldn't be out late.
I won this charming light-up church at a Christmas party gift exchange at least a decade ago
Looking back, I probably shouldn't have configured my day like that. The meal was delicious but I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have.
I couldn't even get a big kick out of the treat we got afterwards at Duck Donuts. It was across the parking lot from Midwood Smokehouse, and I was the one who insisted that we go there.
We each ate a still-warm donut while sitting at a little table in the shop, and TG brought the rest home in a box.
Saturday night was worse than Friday night. I developed a cough.
The next day, it rained all day. TG went to church. On the way home, he stopped and got me a big bag of Halls honey lemon cough drops.
These are old-school cheap but they do the trick
He'd asked me whether I needed anything and those were the only thing I could think of.
But I chuckled weakly when I saw that there were seventy cough drops in the bag. It seemed like a great many more than I needed or could consume.
I've lived on them for over a week now. We're not out but neither is that bag anywhere near to being full anymore.
It was funny because at the same time TG bought the Halls, he bought a bag of Luden's cough drops. Why, I don't know. They are disgusting -- nothing more than sickly cherry candy.
But the fact that he'd bought them prompted a memory of getting a box of cough drops to take to school when you were a kid and maybe had the sniffles or were slightly under the weather.
My front-door wreath lights up beguilingly at night
Not contagious -- don't freak out -- but you know, not one hundred percent. Maybe a scratchy throat, or just getting over a cold.
You felt so important with that box of cough drops with its wax paper liner. The teacher had been informed that they were on your person, so it was okay to have one in class.
I don't remember Halls as a kid; only Luden's and one other brand.
TG and I, over our supper that Sunday night, couldn't remember what it was. I only knew it was something Bros. With drawings of two old-timey men on the box.
Between bites of the cheeseburger and fries TG had brought me from Rush's, it came to me: Smith Bros. cough drops.
The Luden's and the Halls cough drops in the skull jar
Which prompted TG to look up the Smith brothers to ascertain whether they were real brothers who made cough drops, or merely a brand, like Betty Crocker. Who does not exist.
Turns out the Smith Brothers. -- William and Andrew -- were the real deal. Theirs are thought to be the original cough and throat drops produced in America.
Before Halls and before Luden's, even.
Beneath the pictures of their bearded visages on the box appeared the word -- but split in two, one word under each face -- Trade and Mark.
The brothers were thereafter known as Trade and Mark Smith.
This woolly ewe is new -- a S&P shaker from Cracker Barrel
Anyway, we don't have any Smith Bros. cough drops in the house but you can pick some up at the store the next time you're there, if there's a need.
I'll stick with Halls honey lemon because they really do help when you have a sore throat and cough. Which I sincerely and fervently pray that you do not.
So for several days I was mildly productive at home, not well enough to go out but not sick enough to lie in bed or sit around nonstop.
As a result, I am ready for Christmas. The cards have all been sent and the gifts are wrapped and under the tree.
With the exception of a few stragglers that I have yet to wrap. But that won't be a problem.
I found this metal sign at Tractor Supply last January, on clearance
Because I'm organized.
Our children's massive stockings are stuffed with all manner of small gifts and hanging from wreath hangers on the French doors between the TV room and the sun room.
TG took me to the store last night for our Christmas groceries, and I purchased the treats I always add to the kids' stockings at more or less the last minute.
The decorating has been done, as I told you before, since the day after Thanksgiving.
Naturally I've tweaked it, and even added a doodad or two, but that's par for the course.
There's a gnome on the coffee cart
Meanwhile we began our Christmas celebrations last Friday night.
It was the first day that I felt well enough to go out, but I admit it was still not as easy as I wish it had been, to get gussied up -- yes I always gussy up -- and leave my warm house.
But Audrey and Dagny had invited all of us (who live here, that being TG and me, plus the Chericas, consisting of Chad, Erica, Rhett, and baby Elliot) to theirs, for pizza and wings and entertainment.
I made Mari's Hot Taco Dip (minus the black olives as per usual, haha) to round out the meal.
For dessert there was ice cream with cookies, and coffee if you wanted some.
Screen shot of Dagny delivering her cardinal paper
The entertainment consisted of music, and a presentation about cardinals. The birds.
Dagny and Audrey had brought Dagny's keyboard into the living room to facilitate the musical part.
There was first an impromptu performance by our Chad, who played Silent Night. He learned to play the piano as a child but last Friday night was the first time I knew that.
Then Dagny played O Come All Ye Faithful. Third and last, Audrey played Silent Night again -- while Dagny sang it.
Completely charming and worthy of applause.
I got this twinkly tree a long time ago at Hobby Lobby
Sorry I got no pictures of the evening but I did take video, and I captured a still of Dagny -- who is homeschooled -- giving her cardinal presentation while TG held the poster visual aid.
It was all so excellent and everyone went home filled with the Christmas spirit.
On Saturday I felt well enough to go to the church with TG in the morning to spend about an hour distributing doorhangers inviting folks to our church's Christmas services.
Audrey and Dagny were there too, and when we were finished, TG and I headed for Simpsonville to have lunch at Cracker Barrel with my sister Kay, her husband Pierre-Philippe, and Henry.
Audrey had a day of errands planned, but Dagny decided that she wanted to come with us.
Dagny came along for lunch at Cracker Barrel in Simpsonville
Henry was married to my mother for thirty-seven years before her death in October of 2020. He is ninety-one years old and just keeps on going, enjoying life.
My sister had a birthday on the fourteenth, so the meet-up was both to celebrate that (I made my semi-famous, entirely homemade Vanilla Pound Cake with Amaretto Drizzle) and to exchange Christmas gifts.
Kay and PP will be heading up to South Bend, Indiana, this week to spend Christmas with two of their daughters and several of their grandchildren.
Henry will have his Christmas dinner in Greenville with our nephew Michael and his family. His (Henry's, that is) five children all live far away.
Kay had made a large jar of chocolate biscotti for me and TG. As I wrote to her in a thank-you note yesterday, I'm trying to stay out of that jar because the biscotti is so good, I fear I could eat it all.
Kay has completed her cancer treatments and her hair has grown back curly
I gave them a large panettone -- a favorite of all of ours at Christmas -- that came in a huge and gorgeous decorative box. I did not buy it from Amazon.
For Henry there was a Legendary Whitetails Buck Camp flannel shirt. Upon opening his gift, Henry's brow furrowed.
Did you get me a Large? he queried.
I had. But Henry, at his advanced age, is no longer a Large. He has shrunk to a Medium. I had forgotten that detail; standing six feet tall, he's always been a Large.
I suggested that he could wear the shirt as an overlayer. A shacket, as it were.
Henry: living embodiment of the word "spry"
Again Henry's nose wrinkled. I already have several big shirts like that, he replied.
Oh dear.
Kay then relayed that only about a week ago, Henry had shared with her that he was having trouble doing up his top button and necktie when dressing for church.
(Yes; contrary to the popular belief that coats and ties at church went out with the horse and buggy, many men still do wear them.)
My sister had suggested that Henry instead wear a black turtleneck beneath his sport coat, à la Steve Jobs.
See what I did there?
Henry liked that idea, so I offered to return the flannel shirt and buy him a classy black turtleneck.
Visibly relieved, he hastily handed me back the gift bag containing the shirt.
On the drive home later, which took about an hour and fifteen minutes, I selected, purchased, and had shipped to Henry this Land's End Super Soft Supima Mock Turtleneck.
He'll look sharp in that, and stay warm, and no buttons to bother with.
I was about to process a return of the lumberjack shirt when TG murmured that he wears a Large and had admired the shirt.
TG's and my stockings are all but empty ... so far
Only, a few years ago, TG had declared a moratorium on buying him shirts for Christmas and his birthday (which is in January).
He has so many nice casual shirts, he doesn't have time to wear them all.
I broke the rule last year by getting him a tee bearing the legend Reagan Bush '84, but he liked it so much that I was forgiven. It's now a favorite.
Once home, I reworked the gift tag that had been on the bag containing Henry's unsatisfactory present. It's now TG's present.
Aren't I a clever clogs? I will thank you not to sneer.
I couldn't resist the barn and silo S&P shakers either
On Sunday, which was a day of torrential rain here in Columbia, we went to church. Seeing that I and Audrey and Erica were all wearing green and black, we pressed TG into service to take our picture.
As I mentioned, yesterday was a planning day and TG took me to buy the groceries.
There is in fact a party later today, here at Chez Weber.
My friend Marsha, who is the receptionist at my dentist's office which is but two miles from my front door, is coming by after work for our Christmas gift exchange.
Audrey and Dagny are invited too. They go to the same dentist as me and we all love Marsha.
The bling reindeer has pride of place
It's very cold today, so I have a warm snack planned, along with freshly baked pumpkin bread. I will take pictures to share at a later date.
This coming Friday, our Stephanie and her family are coming for the day. From North Carolina, a three-hour drive. On Thursday, our Melanie -- their eldest -- will celebrate her nineteenth birthday.
Albeit one day late, we will have a birthday dinner -- I can't wait to show you what I'm serving for that -- and afterwards, Melanie's cake and birthday presents.
When she has been duly fêted, we will repair to the TV room and have our Christmas gift exchange with them.
They will spend the actual Christmas holiday with our son-in-law Joel's family.
Today I moved the little tree to the number six
Usually they spend the night on this occasion, but they decided to come early in the day this time and leave late, to avoid all of that packing. I don't blame them one bit since, leaving on Sunday in the early evening, they have a nine-hour drive to Pennsylvania.
On Christmas Eve we will go to church, and in the evening we'll have our traditional buffet at my house.
Audrey and Dagny have for years spent the night with us for both Christmas Eve and Christmas night, so that we can wake up together both on Christmas Day and on what the Brits call Boxing Day.
We don't box anything on that day, but this year I'm committed to making a Dutch Baby for Christmas morning, using my large cast-iron skillet which is roughly the size of Rhode Island.
With the pancake we will have berry compost. YES I know it's compote but many years ago Audrey had a tip of the slung and called it compost, so now we always say that when referring to warm berry sauce.
This gnome hangs out on the ledge each December
At any rate we will be eating good and there will be plenty of hot, fresh coffee laced with frothy cream.
For Christmas Dinner I have, again, planned an impressive lineup. I'll be telling you all about it in due time.
Meanwhile, two final things:
One: I had written ninety percent of this post yesterday when, for what I believe is the first time in sixteen-plus years of blogging, my website ate my post and it was lost.
It was devastating. I don't know what happened because there is this thing called autosave, only this time, it did not. Although I began rewriting the post yesterday, I was forced to leave it until today to finish.
Two: While writing yesterday I relayed what I thought was a humorous anecdote about an interaction I had at church on Sunday with a fond acquaintance of many years.
A little mailbox and other stuff sit on a tray at one end of the table
I thought perhaps I should retell it but in a different tone because I tend to be sarcastic and perhaps someone would construe that I reacted to said interaction in a way that I had not.
Hyperbole is, after all, my middle name.
Anyway the thing is, at our church we have a Christmas card exchange, the mechanism of which is two sets of shelves set up -- one on each side of the auditorium, in the back -- which hold boxes marked with all the letters of the alphabet.
A through L on one side and M through Z on the other.
We deposit our Christmas cards for others in the appropriate boxes and remove our own cards from the designated box bearing the initial of our last name.
Me in the foreground talking with my hands while Audrey opens a card
Only, the fond acquaintance of which I spoke has, like moi, a last name beginning with the letter W.
And every year, she brings us our cards, more or less gently implying that they were in her way.
She did this again on Sunday. I had tried three times to get near the W box, and finally succeeded, only to find that there were no cards for us in it.
That's because The Other Mrs. W had culled our cards and placed them on our pew.
At the very moment I discovered this, she was there beside me.
Your cards were messing up the W box, she said.
Me and two of my three girls sporting Christmas green
They WERE? I said, laughing. Really?
I felt our innocent Christmas cards had been unjustly maligned but what can you do. They were in the way.
We had a good time with it. She is a darling in the truest sense of the word. She told me that she wishes she could organize all of the boxes containing the Christmas cards, every year.
Which I think is an excellent idea and I vote to so name The Other Mrs. W as the holder of said office.
Audrey and Dagny don't use the boxes; they deliver their cards by hand before and after the services leading up to Christmas.
I have too many to do that but they keep it simple.
Just a few of our offending cards
How many cards do you send at Christmastime? This year we were up to one-hundred forty.
Have you a Christmas card or gift or party or tradition anecdote to share, either recent or from days gone by?
What are you up to in the days leading up to the ultimate holiday?
I know you're busy but if you have time, please tell me in the comments.
And that is all for now.
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Happy Tuesday :: Merry Christmas
