Merry Christmas to all you who celebrated today. In a coincidental nod to the Orthodox Christians, we’re going to be celebrating our Christmas Jan. 7.
Allow me to explain.
In the alternating year universe in which I exist, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughters are in Minnesota with in-laws celebrating both Christmas and the successful completion of the multi-day ordeal of a drive to get there.
In the past, while my mother still was alive, we likely would have had a small get-together here today. But, with her death in April, and my brother’s hermit status, not to mention dog-sitting duties by me and the wife for the travelers’ canines who, lucky for them, didn’t need to spend 30 hours or so in a car, it seemed OK just to forego any celebration today.
My big day was spent shoveling out my son’s driveway, clearing my vehicle of snow and, later, working on my sidewalks at home, ferrying my wife over to the son’s house to relieve me of dog-sitting, and generally celebrating my return home after a couple of days and nights away.
I prefer my bed, my television setup and my reclining chair, not to mention freedom from being hounded – figuratively and literally speaking – by a crazed Siberian Husky dog who thinks I should relinquish the only adult-sized chair in the room to him.
Because I was home alone this afternoon and beyond – no need to notify CYS, I’m of age – I watched some of the 24-hour loop on TNT of “A Christmas Story.” Then I took a break, cranked up the stereo and listened to all four of my Mannheim Steamroller Christmas CDs.
Even though my wife and I saw the Steamroller live a few years back – a Christmas gift from the son – she doesn’t seem to understand that the full experience of their intricate scores is best experienced at high volume.
With the house to myself, and neighbors presumably locked tightly in their homes with all windows and doors closed, I was free to pump up the volume.
Christmas dinner was a concoction of chili beans and chopped up hot dogs. “A Christmas Story” plays in the background (he just got his BB gun) as I add this blog post. Multi-tasking, don’t you know!
The weary travelers are scheduled to return near the end of this week — and the end of the year as it turns out. Instead of trying to cram New Year’s and Christmas into one weekend (with a child or two’s birthday party tossed into the mix) it was decided by those above my pay grade that Christmas would be shifted to Jan. 7.
That, ironically, usually marks the final day my wife keeps Christmas decorations on display. I tell her she could let the tree and all the other stuff up year-round, but she doesn’t.
Considering she now will be busy Jan. 7 cooking, baking and otherwise preparing the traditional feast, not to mention sharing in the distribution of presents, she won’t have time on that day to initiate teardown, and likely will be a bit too tired Jan. 8.
Two final notes on not celebrating Christmas on Christmas Day.
While working decades for a morning newspaper, I got used to being off the day before holidays. We of the night staff had to come in the evenings of holidays to put out the newspaper for the next day.
I’ve also covered sporting events on holidays such as Christmas or Thanksgiving, and my wife had a job for some time that required her sometimes to work holidays. We frequently had our celebrations on days other than the holidays.
But, the Orthodox thing fascinated me in school because there was a girl, Nicolette, and maybe others I didn’t notice, who got extra time off to celebrate the Jan. 7 Christmas. The fact she and others also got the time granted to those celebrating Christmas using the Gregorian, not Julian, calendar, struck me as a bit unfair.
My thinking then was that she should have been required to come in and sit in an empty classroom on Dec. 25, since it was just another day to her faith.
The Grinch would have concurred.
Good thing that now I’m long out of school, or the workforce for that matter. It might have been tough getting Jan. 7 off for Christmas.
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