'Twas the Afternoon Before Christmas
And on top of my bed, my fat kitty was purring, as I rubbed her soft head.
Home for the holiday week - the warm Pennsylvania sun is shining - the draft seeps in under the front door - blue jays caw and the squirrel mounts an offensive at the bird feeder - Joolya grudgingly and rather sloppily wraps gifts in the basement while singing along to Elliott Smith - the Madre and the Dondre persistent in turning down the thermostat.
Went to see the Narnia film today and, overt Biblical symbolism and all, I have to say it was great. And really, the Aslan story kind of kicks the New Testament's arse. But I am baised, admittedly, having read and re-read those books for the whole of my childhood. Numbers 3 and 6 are the best, even though Nicolo will not agree with me. The film kept very close to the book and Tilda Swinton was terrific as the White Witch.
So far no drama, family-wise. Tonight we have to go the the church that we don't particularly like in the Suburb of the Damned, but oh well. Christmas is about sacrifice, right? No, wait, that's Easter. Eh, same difference.
There's a big pile of presents under the valiant little twiggy tree and the cats aren't even eating the ribbons. At least it's a real tree! The Madre nearly caved and bought an artificial tree this year, but I pitched a fit. I said that having a plastic tree was the first step toward the plastification of her soul. So ha!
I'm reading a very interesting book that the Madre passed along called Animals in Translation, which is by this autistic woman who studies animal physiology and designs humane slaughterhouses. It's absolutely fascinating how she describes how animals minds work compared to normal versus autistic people. Highly recommend.
Home for the holiday week - the warm Pennsylvania sun is shining - the draft seeps in under the front door - blue jays caw and the squirrel mounts an offensive at the bird feeder - Joolya grudgingly and rather sloppily wraps gifts in the basement while singing along to Elliott Smith - the Madre and the Dondre persistent in turning down the thermostat.
Went to see the Narnia film today and, overt Biblical symbolism and all, I have to say it was great. And really, the Aslan story kind of kicks the New Testament's arse. But I am baised, admittedly, having read and re-read those books for the whole of my childhood. Numbers 3 and 6 are the best, even though Nicolo will not agree with me. The film kept very close to the book and Tilda Swinton was terrific as the White Witch.
So far no drama, family-wise. Tonight we have to go the the church that we don't particularly like in the Suburb of the Damned, but oh well. Christmas is about sacrifice, right? No, wait, that's Easter. Eh, same difference.
There's a big pile of presents under the valiant little twiggy tree and the cats aren't even eating the ribbons. At least it's a real tree! The Madre nearly caved and bought an artificial tree this year, but I pitched a fit. I said that having a plastic tree was the first step toward the plastification of her soul. So ha!
I'm reading a very interesting book that the Madre passed along called Animals in Translation, which is by this autistic woman who studies animal physiology and designs humane slaughterhouses. It's absolutely fascinating how she describes how animals minds work compared to normal versus autistic people. Highly recommend.
posted by Joolya at
3:05 PM
2 Comments:
Hey, now. Nothing wrong with plastic trees, especially for those of us whose allergies absolutely forbid the real thing. My other grandma used to get real ones and my cousin Bryan and I would suffer every year until we figured it out. Something about some mold or something that grows on real trees. Anyway, I'm just saying that plastic trees aren't always just about convenience and modernization. Anyway, IMHO, it's the ornaments that make the difference. The Joelster's mom likes things that match, so her trees always look like they belong in a hotel lobby. Where, I ask you, is the weird pretzely picture frame, or the applesauce gingerbread man, or the various handmade blobby things from kindergarden? That's a real tree.
Fair enough - I concede that plastic trees have their places. But we've always gotten a real tree (no one sneezes) and the pine needle mess is part of the fun!
But yes, the non-matching ornaments are the key. Like the colored bell I drew in 1982 or the schmaltzy vacation souveniers, not to mention the low-hanging soft ornaments and bells for the cats to play with!
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