The stars are brightly shining

I keep forgetting today isn't Monday.  This whole long holiday weekend thing is messing me up.  Silver lining: It's sort of fun to complain about that when you go back to work, especially knowing that there's another three-day weekend right around the corner.

So!  Christmas recap.  We had like three full days o' celebrations, and honestly, at this point I'm in desperate need of a detox.  Lettuce leaves and a nap, anyone?

Well, anyway.  We'll see how far we can get tonight.

Christmas in the Great Hall.  Obviously.

Christmas #1: Friday, December 23
I had to work on Friday.  Eric and the girls?  Off.  Well, that's okay.  I don't mind going in to work, if you want to know the truth.  I grabbed my bag o' presents--blueberry and cherry jam--and headed out to spread some Christmas cheer.

It was a fun, festive sort of day, even though Cranky Steve had reached his limit of kindness for the week, because he was all sorts of cranky, and none of them the fun kind.  Just to mix things up, I went into Cranky Steve's office and was like, do you like blueberry or cherry?  And he was all snarl snarl snarl, what does it matter?  And I was like, well, it doesn't, I guess.  And he was all, fine, blueberry.  So I put a wrapped jar on his desk and said, "Merry Christmas!" and started to walk out.

I don't think Cranky Steve gets a lot of presents, actually, because his whole demeanor changed.  He was like, what is this?  Did you make this?  And I was all, yep.  I think he was touched.  For like two whole seconds, and then he went back to being cranky again, except not at me.  Blueberry jam is a miracle worker!

I got to leave work at 4:30 p.m. because at that point, it was just the publisher, the office manager and me in the whole joint.  I went home, picked up Eric and the girls, tossed presents in the car and drove to my parents' house.

My family likes to celebrate Christmas on the 23rd.  This dates back to when we first moved to town, and we'd go back "home" for Christmas.  So we'd get to open our presents early.  Whatever works, right?  Anyway, the tradition holds.

Mom had made lasagna, green beans and rolls.  AND CHEESECAKE.  Enough said, right?  So we ate, and then called my sweet little Grandma G., who celebrates her birthday on the 23rd.  She's the youngest of 10 and apparently no one thought to actually look at a calendar or anything when she was born.  So her big sister Frieda figured that Grammie was born on the 23rd because she remembered opening up her mother's door to show the baby the Christmas Tree.  Well, fast forward 86 years, and my grandma finds her baptism record that shows she was born on the 21st.  Um, what?  Well, it's hard to break an 86-year-old habit, so we all still call on the 23rd because.  Obviously.

Grandma had a LOT to say.  She talked to me, then the girls, then Eric.  And we all must have failed to mention we were at my parents' because then she hung up, so my Mom had to call her back so she and Dad could talk.*

That was sort of awesome.

So then we gather in the living room to open presents.  We take turns, beginning with the youngest.  The girls just accept this as a natural part of Christmas.  We actually do this at our house, too, just because they think this is the way it's done.

This part probably took close to an hour, partly because we take turns, and partly because Mom loves to watch people open stuff, I guess, and we had a lot to get through--some of it was little, but some of it wasn't little.  See?  This is my new Lodge Dutch Oven:

Hello, pretty new pot!  I love you!

(Mom also gave me a cross-stitched picture that Johanna had "helped" her with.  Pretty cool.)

After we'd finally opened everything up, we sat around and ate dessert and talked.  And let Johanna open up her Hello Kitty almost-Lego box to see what was up.

Before we knew it, it was after 9 p.m., so off we went.  But then the girls requested that we take a bit of a detour to go look at Christmas lights.  So we did.  And the girls were so happy, and the night was so beautiful, and we saw some pretty legit setups.

It was perfect.

*P.S. As we were eating dessert, Mom was all like, hey, funny story, because you know how Grandma's birthday is the 21st but we thought it was the 23rd for 86 years?  Yeah, well, Gramps and Grammie might have been married 69 years ago on Sept. 11 instead of the 16th.  But I'm probably not going to say anything to them.

Please, for the love of all that is holy, will you people start looking at a calendar on important days? Because jeez, man!  I can't take much more of this.

John Barry, "O Holy Night."  (I was going to pick "Joy To the World," but I can't find a link.  Ah, well.  This song is nice, too.)  "A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."  Yep.