Where to Start

Phew. Done. No more visits. It's hard to know what's blog-worthy and what's not.

It was a lot of visiting. My sister and I were practically joined at the hip from the time I picked her up at the bus station until I dropped her off at the bus station. Good thing I likes 'er.

We got to spend a lot of time with my niece, Imogen, who is an adorable, sweet-tempered, funny baby. I got to be Auntie Oh over the course of our second visit. She looked at me once and I sang a note at her: "Ohhhh." She laughed and imitated me. I laughed and imitated her and back and forth we went. She got bored pretty fast, and there were lots of christmas presents around to play with, and lots of people to climb up one. But every once in a while, she'd look over at me and purse her lips and whisper "Ohhhh." I'd sing back. She's about to get a sister or brother in the spring, so I'll trundle on out to see them all then. Maybe I'll get to be another vowel at that point. Or a consonant!

We also got to spend a lot of time with my Granny. She's 92, and had a stroke 3 years ago that nearly killed her. She still lives by herself. She can't remember a lot of words, or they come out all wrong, so visiting with her is a bit of a guessing game. "Get the towels out of the bathroom, Gran? Do you mean towels? No. Okay. Something square... a loaf... oh! you mean the bread out of the fridge?" Still and all, she is remarkably lucid, much more so than I think people give her credit for. She knows what she's talking about, she just can't say it. She was always a talker, so I can't imagine how hard that must be for her.

Way too much food, of course. I feel greasy and bloated and globby and I'm craving steamed kale and brown rice. Lots of booze too. That I had, not that I'm craving.

We watched White Christmas on Christmas Eve. Mom says that this is because I love it, but every year, within the first half hour she's bound to ask "When are we going to watch White Christmas?" So I don't think I'm the only one who likes it.

It was also my turn to put up the star this year. My mom made that advent calendar. The first few years we had it, my brother and sister and I fought bitterly about whose turn it was to put the star up. It is the most important because: it is the only ornament with a fixed place; it is closest to Christmas; it is the shiniest. I marvelled at its beauty when I was a kid. Ever practical, my mom started a list in '81 or '82 - you can see the little cards poking out of 24. We still find ways to make it fun, though.

"What? It's your turn? I don't remember doing it last year." Amy took the cards from Mom. "Hey, my name is in your handwriting! Did I really put up the star, or was that just part of your nefarious plan for star domination?"

Ah, family.