Aftermath

Meals prepared, eaten, enjoyed and cleaned up.......................check.
(I’ll save the actual photo of my heavenly lasagna-creation for a selective e-few…available upon request.)

Presents purchased, wrapped, ripped open and adequately swooned over……………..check.

Endless Christmas carols hummed, nonstop childhood memories revisited and several bottles of alcohol consumed…………………………..check.

I believe it’s over…I’ll know for sure in the morning.

I trust that everyone has had a rip-roaring hullaballoo of a good time and I’ll expect individual reports of merry-making in my inbox by say, 11am tomorrow. (I’ll give you some extra time to sleep late and throw up before you report back to me. You’re welcome.)

(As an aside… “word” is telling me I should change the “you’re” above with “you is”…as in, ‘You is welcome’??…I don’t think so. I think we might not be the only ones who over-indulged the last two days…I thought my gin looked kinda low...)

Here’s a snapshot that says it all:


Yes, folks….it’s the aftermath. Two glasses broken and only a few “cr-ownies” (I think that’s what my sister called them) left…and I’m guessing they’ll be gone by noon tomorrow. Equal amounts of white (mainly me) and red were consumed…as we are equal opportunity vino consumers, yessireebob.

Taylor (16) and Connor (11) both received new cells, which is a mixed blessing. Connor just texted me to say “Is there anything good in the house to eat?” Having a “text friendly” cell has its advantages…as does having 11-year-old reflexes. I have neither…but managed to text back “r ukidig me ?” (Margarete knows what I’m saying.) I believe there will be many, many texts in my future….at least until tomorrow…when Connor’ll undoubtedly find someone more adept to communicate with.

I’m so glad I did all that cleaning before company arrived…as it may take the next month for everything to dry out…between the kids running in and out to sleigh ride in the rain (totally doable evidently, when you’ve got a base of 15” of snow) and the half-plastered adults stumbling out to the car to retrieve cells/presents/medicine/hamburger meat…(don’t ask).

Now I’m in that post-wedding shock phase…it’s all lead up to the last 36 hours and now it’s OVER…and it’s time to breathe and re-boot.

It was bad planning on someone’s part to have Christmas and New Year’s so close together…with that endless, lackluster 3 months to follow until something good happens (think: spring). Whom can I speak to about this? Personally, I would’ve spread the happiness a little more evenly…but maybe that’s just me.

So, get cracking on those email reports of your festivities…I’m waiting with “breath that is bated”.

I promise to keep the juicy details to myself…