Musings - Skipping Christmas, sorta

It's not like I'm utterly missing out on the holiday. I enjoy the Christmas music. The pile of presents for friends (and yes, family) continues to grow under the tree. I'm going to make an insane amount of cookies this weekend, if I can find all the time and ingredients.

And yet, now that Dad's out of the hospital and all's well that ends well, I just can't get into the Christmas swing. It's not that it's out there or I feel odd about participating, it's just that I can't get into the mood. I don't know whether I'll feel inspired to go holiday-happy this weekend at last or not. This may depend entirely on whether I get to *talk* to my father and make it all real.

And if I don't get into the big holiday hoopla, that's okay. But wierd. I do rather wonder if in the end it will come without ribbons. Come without tags. Come without packages, boxes, or bags. It's supposed to.


In the meantime, I've given up on American Jesus because it asked me to give it more brainpower than I was willing to spare right now. Instead, I've opened my birthday present, Going Postal. Because if you can't read Pratchett for fun, you're dead.

Dad stuff.

Dad didn't get released this morning; they didn't let him go until evening, when he was like "might as well stay, really." He's at the hotel with Mother and my brother. They're all staying through the weekend because they want to remove the drains on Monday.

If my cold keeps getting better - I just cough now and then - I'm going up on Saturday. Mother and I will rejuggle the holiday menus then too, since she will have all the dietary stuff from the hospital. I'm running out of time to cook ahead and it may be cruel to take up a lot of cookies, so I may scale back what I was going to make at the cookie party on Sunday.