Rosettes and Holiday Drear

from a Seventies Dinner Party

I just wanted to drop some holiday cheer.

The ground is frozen and snowless, the House GOP just shot down the stimulus checks here in American on freaking Christmas Eve and…yeah. Sorry! My Christmas cheer is a moldy froth beneath my bath mat right now.

But I did hear the owls last night. That means it might snow or something! Yes, I base all my weather predictions on nocturnal predators with feathers. It might possibly snow tomorrow. A lot of possible. I checked my phone, it gave a big number for a percent. I have no hope left but that the sky relents and gives up a bit of snow for this corner of Eastern Oregon. That’s the one thing I actually wish, dear Santa.

I’m not even sure who or what to pray to for snow. Easter Bunny, June Duck Monster, Statue of Liberty?

It seems this December will never end. But it will. Praise Lady Liberty and Peter Cottontail, hallelujah, woot woot, it will end!

My grandmother had a Santa figure rather like that in that pic up there, except the coat was red. She would have served something like that [maybe a Jell-O mold?] as well back in the day. She also would have been eating herring and making those Scandinavian cookies called rosettes. She had the irons and everything. And the same old decorations would be up, with grandpa slurping down Manischewitz Concord Grape wine and all those good smells in the very air the minute we walked through the door…!

Ah. There’s a bit of Christmas nostalgia for y’all.

However you celebrate or don’t, happiest of days to you. Don’t let the bastards get you down, as my mother used to say.

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