December 25

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! (I realized I have not been using nearly enough exclamation marks.)

The best Christmas EVER

1964

Merry Christmas!

What a Christmas!! Marty gave me a box of stationery and a pen and the Os gave me a box of lovely dusting powder. I also got

“A Hard Day’s Night” - from Bob

A red skirt and blazer set - Mom

An alarm clock - Mom

A slip - Mom

A transistor radio - Dad

Dusting powder - Aunt Carol

The powder from Aunt Carol I gave to Marty. She likes it. It’s been a swell Christmas! Oh! I almost forgot! I got $10 from Uncle Paul and Aunt Grace. We went to Gs house and had a good time.

Comment 2022

Oh, Mom. I know she loved me. But every gift I received from her once I reached puberty carried with it a hint about how I could be improved. The red skirt and plaid blazer said “try to dress up more”, and the alarm clock message is obvious. When I hit my forties, she started with the anti-aging lotions and potions. The outfit I got in 1964 was actually a great choice, unlike the rest of the clothing she usually gave me. Generally, she selected pastels and fairly feminine styling (definitely not me). Brightly colored, tailored separates? Yes, please.

1978

Handel wrote “Messiah” in three weeks, and 200 years later we still sing it. Amazing. Impressive. Personally, irksome. As if I should be able to leap up and produce some great work in so little time. No, if I ever do it will be a long time in the making. I keep returning to a novel, of course, although I don't know why. By now, after years of writing and reading my journals, I should have realized that I lack the necessarily eloquence. When I try to be profound, I am trite. If I try for flamboyance, I sound awkward and stilted. As a result, when I am not being plain spoken, I sound ludicrous; not worth listening to.

So what will I ever really do? Maybe I am fooling myself with all this reading and intellectualizing. Is it not enough to be a dreamer and a baker of bread, a loving wife and daughter…well, there. You see what I mean. Waving my hands around in a self-conscious gesture of mock-eloquence. What I mean is…

Is it enough to be me?

1979

Merry Christmas! And it was, too!! We went to the Smithsonian on Monday, saw all the international Christmas trees. That night we actually went to church (Midnight mass at the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception).

Today we opened presents. (Jim liked mine, I liked his.) Then we played with them. Records, puzzle, candy thermometer. See my new pen?

All in all a highly successful day. Good roll in the hay to end it, too.

Comment 2023

TMI? Too bad.

1980

A very fine Christmas - - the best in years. Mom, Bob, and Bonnie arrived Sunday evening. After dinner, we were joined by more friends. Jim made cannoli (fantastic!) and we all drank to our healths with a real nice asti spumante.

Monday was graduation - a very nice, even somewhat brief ceremony. Daniel Boorstin got an honorary PhD but didn’t speak (alas!). Then much picture taking , with all the permutations of people. Lunch at a nice Chinese restaurant, then to the non-print library to watch my TV appearance on tape, and home to rest. That night we went to Arena Stage and saw very funny production of “the Man Who Came to Dinner’. Tuesday it was incredibly icy so we took it slow in the morning, then sauntered downtown for a little shopping, lunch at Reeve’s (pecan pie, of course), a peek at the Smithsonian, more shopping, and then dinner with Aunt Carol and family.

Wednesday (yesterday) we stayed close to home, as it was icy and wet and miserable outside. I took them over to Berwyn to the herb shop and Beautiful Day Trading Company (turned Mom on to natural foods). Christmas Eve was spent at home, looking at old slides and photos and opening our presents. Christmas Day we ate a hearty breakfast and our guests left. I promptly fell into bed and slept 2 hours.

Bob is still growing and searching. I think that’s how it should be, and it certainly seems to be doing him no harm. He and Bonnie are expecting their first child in July. It is a very strange sensation, thinking of Bob as a father. Time moves on, and we are pulled along. It has been a year of changes.

Unfinished song snippet:

The years glide by.

You can’t stop them so don’t even try.

Just take what you get.

Bad days and regrets.

On a good day, don’t stop to ask why

1988 (First page of a new notebook!)

And what will this book bring?The last one crept along for over two years - - a record, I think. (At least for a skinny journal) It’s been a nice Christmas this year. The weeks from Kiddo 2’s birthday to New Year’s Day are destined to be hectic, I can tell. At least this year it was manageable for the first time since he was born. His first Christmas came on the heels of Mom’s illness and hospitalization. It was a joyous time, but very chaotic. Last year I was just BUSY. (Not sure why, since I was on sabbatical.) Also, last year I got obsessed with buying lots of presents. This year we made many of them, which was so much nicer. The “Little House” dinner was really great, and we all had a pleasant and friendly time. The cooking was fun, too - - simpler that I expected, in some ways. There was no sifting, and beating eggs with a folk on a platter turned out to be a cinch.

Here follows a list of 29 things I was procrastinating on. In the interest of all, I have omitted it.

Comment 2023

The funniest thing about this entry from 1988 is that the 80-page notebook that I started on December 25, 1988 limped along until February 1996! Those are the lost years, dear Reader. Kiddo 1 from age 6 to almost fourteen. Kiddo 2 from toddler to tween. The elimination of my old department, and my agonized transition to American Studies. The one and only family reunion that ever happened. My father’s death. Our one and only family trip to Europe. The collapse of the venerable department store my husband worked for, and nearly a year of mourning and uncertainty. Wow. That red notebook holds the record, for sure, for what is said and unsaid.

Also: the “Little House” Christmas was inspired by the economic disparity between our best friends and ourselves. We had bonded during lean years for all of us, but they had outpaced us, making gift exchanges increasingly awkward. So, in 1988, we agreed to a simple, homemade holiday. A nice memory.

1990

A very merry Christmas. It was busy (as usual) but this year at least I’m used to commencement , and Thanksgiving was earlier than usual. I did most of my shopping weeks ago, much of it by mail. Next year I do more of that. Kiddo 2 loves his scooter, and is amazingly adept at it. Kiddo 1 was pasted to her new keyboard just about all day long. We played with our toys, listened to our new tapes, and generally lounged around. I gave up on my idea of going into the office. Futile anyway.

Yesterday I had a temper tantrum of my own. I can act so hateful sometimes, it is frightening. Relationships are so complicated. Why do I just feel that mom doesn’t love me as much as she needs me? I know she’s proud of me, but she is generally so critical, in a distant sort of way, that it’s hard to believe she feels any affection for me. I’m mostly the mother of her grandchildren. My tantrums with the kids are more like my father’s raging. My mother rarely lost her temper with me. Dad frequently! I was afraid of him, though he was meaner to Bob than me. I remember him swatting Bob in the head as we sat around the dinner table when Bob was 13 or 14.

Dad’s been sick, seems to be out of the woods for now I would be so annoyed if he died first. mom’s presence is a barrier between us. Ever since she moved to Maryland, I only see him once a year. Family. The core of my Christmas thoughts and memories.

Comment 2024

Holy shit. All of that emotional stuff going on, and still “A very merry Christmas.” And going to the office on Christmas? Whatever for?

1997

A very peaceful and loving Christmas morning has passed. We exchanged gifts - - I got TWO Playstation games, and some wonderful music. And, by odd coincidence, my book order from Simple Living Network arrived today. A message from beyond? Within?

Today feels like a day for the kitchen, to cook and enjoy!

Comment 2024

I hate to admit it, but the difference between 1990 and 1997 was the death of our parents. Sad and difficult, but also transformative in some positive ways.

2019

(Christmas Eve and Day, combined)

I sewed, I baked. I napped. We had an awesome holiday brunch with Sandy, Kiddo 1 and family and Kiddo 2. Pecan crusted French toast, and quiche (soggy bottom, but oh, well). The pageant costumes turned out fine, and the kids appreciated them in all their colorful, homemade glory.

2020

Here are some words that came after a day of Zooms in 2020.

Merry Christmas

So now we know
It wasn’t the gifts
Or the eggnog
Or the fruitcake
It was love

It wasn’t Handel
Or Dickens or Luke
It was hope 
It wasn’t the snow
Or the sleigh bells.
It was us
Together one way or another.

2021

Breakfast, then COVID tests, both negative. That cleared the way for our first family holiday brunch in two years. (Welsh rabbit, scrambled eggs, mimosas) Bocce! Muppet Christmas Carol! And so many cookies.

2022

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

(I realized I have not been using nearly enough exclamation marks.)

As much as we try to hang on to holiday traditions, they seem to always change, sometimes in tiny ways, and sometimes in dramatic shifts. The last three years, tradition has gone out the window. We moved in 2020, and by that December we were deep in the COVID times, Zooming with people who lived just a few miles away. Last year, we had our first family gathering in our new home, on a balmy day nice enough for a round of bocce. “A new tradition”, I declared.

This year, the entire country is frozen (no bocce) and the “kids” are distributed to other families in other states. Jim gets to hang out with one branch of the family while he drives them to the airport, but there’s no room for me in the car. So here I sit, eating my fourth (or fifth?) snickerdoodle, and waiting for words to come.

2024

Another quiet Christmas, just the two of us. At least that’s what I am expecting this morning. If that changes, I’ll add a bedtime update.