Obligatory Good Wishes

Let me post this early, before something pisses me off and completely drains my good will toward my fellow man.

MWN, Barry, and the three other people who may read this- I hope the end of December brings you happiness, mirth, and a chance to indulge in the holiday celebrations of your choosing.

I doubt if I'll post tomorrow, although you never know. In the spirit of Christmas, I present- Christmas Memory Theater.


When we still lived in DuBois, I was always the first person up. Usually about 5:00 in the morning, and it always seemed so cool, creeping down the stairs, and trying not to wake my parents up, to see what Santa had left in my stocking (more on that, in a moment). It always amazed me too, that without fail, Granddad would show up not more than 15 minutes after I was awake. I think he was excited too, and drove out there in the ice and snow just to see our faces as we opened gifts.

I still get a stocking, and did even when I lived in Florida. Back then, Santa relied on the USPS and sewed the top shut. Under pain of death, I wasn't allowed to open it until Christmas Morning. And despite my insatiable need to snoop, I always did wait with that. I've been using the same stocking since the dawn of time. my mom made it, out of an old velvet dress she had. It's Burgundy, with an appliqued victorian girl on the front, and it's the coolest stocking ever. (Even though I have a "hog" size stocking too, it's the little velvet one with the hanging loop almost coming off that I love best.) Odie (Official Brother of Special Sauce) has one out of red corduroy with an appliqued reindeer and his name on it, but... it is not nearly as swell as mine.


One of the things I remember very well is the little deli container of candy we'd get in Sunday School. Our church was tiny, and each year, someone gave all of us kids a little half-pound size container of neat candies at Christmas and Easter. I can remember being sprawled out on the living room floor, after walking home from Sunday school, watching Ma and Pa kettle on TV, and examining the ever-so-tasty candy.

My family's not huge on tradition, but there are a few things I can count on every year. We will always get to open one "fun" present on Christmas Eve. Usually a board game or something to do- this is a hold over from when my brother and I were intensely annoying kids, and simply could NOT WAIT for Christmas morning. We don't have an excuse now, but do it anyway. We can also always count on the same breakfast- baked oatmeal, ham and egg casserole, and cinnamon rolls. I get everything ready the night before, and put it in the oven early Christmas Morning so we can nibble all day until... THE CHRISTMAS LASAGNA is ready. Sure, Odie (Official Brother of Special Sauce) gets a ham from work. You still must have... THE CHRISTMAS LASAGNA or you will surely lose a limb in some sort of freak accident if you don't eat...THE CHRISTMAS LASAGNA on Christmas day.


I used to do my Dad's shopping for him too, but he has discovered, in recent years, that he's not half bad at picking out stuff my mom likes. Now I just wrap the gifts for him. (Don't ask how he managed to survive when I lived 1500 miles away, because I haven't a clue. Although I suspect professionals were involved, or everyone got stuff wrapped in black garbage bags with bows stuck on the top.)

Last, but not least, my favorite Christmas Memory of all time.

One year, I had left the obligatory note out for Santa, accompanied by cookies and a carrot. I went to bed, and was sooooooooo excited I couldn't sleep. I listened very very hard, and could swear I heard bells jingling, just like the kind that would be on a reindeer harness. I didn't dare get out of bed till the next morning, and when I did- there was a note from Santa! He thanked me for the cookies, and Rudolph even left a hoof print for me. Of course, Santa's writing had the slightest of resemblances to my mother's, and looked suspiciously like the Easter Bunny's, upon closer examination, but it was total magic for me.

Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it-

Sauce.