listless

All of the lists and the checking of lists and the rechecking and checking off of the lists.

And then it's here.

And then it's done.

And then it's over.

Amazingly, once again, the baking and candy-making and shopping and wrapping and partying and visiting are done. For some reason that I can't yet explain, even though I got an earlier start, this year was considerably more hectic and even, may I say, stressful. Probably related to the holidays while remodeling. Or, I don't know, maybe, thinking it was reasonable to paint the dining room on the morning of Christmas Eve? I'll have photos of the basement remodel in the next few days and all will stand (or read) in awe of the amazing transformation and excellent family space it has become.

To recap, fudge didn't turn out so great (read: googled 'why is my fudge runny?' clearly, Jr and I did all of the incorrect steps unless you are trying for grainy, runny, fudge, aka, pudding-like topping for your ice cream sundae).

Somehow, I misplaced my recipe for roll out, cut out, and frost cookies. Could not find it anywhere, even though the girls all showed up on Christmas Eve afternoon to help with the cutting out and frosting and sprinkling. So I did what any resourceful gramma would do after searching and frowning and wondering--I recreated the recipe. I know. Amazing, right? And surprisingly, I think the recipe I created was exactly right, or at least, the girls ate them and Audrey enjoyed sprinkling them with her mom.

Bummer, but I was unsuccessful at finding fuzzy, fleecey tights for the girls and had to settle for regular ole' tights. For now. I will remain on the lookout.

Sorry to those who haven't received their Christmas cards yet. I realized that several of them slipped between the seats of the truck, unnoticed until our return trip from the Home Depot tonight. If you haven't received your card yet, it's, uh, in the mail. Doh!

And then, the final straw arrived on Christmas morning when Jack opened the front door and found a package, apparently a gift from a neighbor. It had a typed note on bright neon green cardstock attached to it that began with "Happy Holidays!" I don't know why anyone would begin a note like this one with those words, because after that greeting, it said that obviously we were poor dog owners, did not take good care of our dog, and allowed her to bark all day. Further, it pointed out that if she were to get out of the back yard, she would undoubtedly attack the neighbor kids, because she doesn't know who the leader of her pack is. The author of the note indicated that he/she was speaking for all of the neighborhood and we would be doing everyone--ourselves, our dog, and our neighborhood (perhaps even the world?)--a big favor if we would simply open the attached package, read the three short books, watch the video (because it's easier to learn by seeing than by reading), and then listen to the four cassette tapes. And quit annoying everyone.

I was stunned and hurt and shocked and then really, really angry. Who the hell writes crap like that, anonymously, and drops it on a neighbor's doorstep in the night? And begins with Happy Holidays?

If the girls hadn't been so thrilled with their pink princess couches and their treasure chests full of princess and fairy costumes, I suspect I'd have totally lost it. But we visited with all of the family, stopped at all of the usual places, and enjoyed the Christmas ham, potatoes au gratin, and vanilla wafer pudding for desert.

Still though, all through the day, I was haunted by the words of that neighbor gift. It stared at me from the desk and every time I saw it, laying there so innocently on the desk, the hair on the back of my neck would stand up and my lip would curl. I think I may have even growled at it a couple of times. I stewed over it today while I rolled on the final coat of paint in the dining room.

Finally, late this afternoon, I decided how I would respond to it. I had a good hunch about who might do such a thing. So I put together a plate of goodies for that neighbor and headed to his front door. I rang the bell and waited. I noticed there were two doorbells, so I rang the other bell. Still no answer. As I started back towards the sidewalk, the door opened and the neighbor came out. I went back and handed the plate of treats to him, saying that I had been slower than usual this year, but I hoped they had had a good Christmas. He reached for the treats and then I looked him in the eye and asked if he had a problem with my dog. He said, "Why do you ask?" I held up the "gift" and said that someone had left it on my doorstep and when we found it, it had completely spoiled Christmas for me. I told him that I was amazed that if someone had an issue with me--whether it was my dog or my kids or a tree hanging over the property line--that they wouldn't come to me directly rather than leave something on my doorstep in the middle of the night, especially something with such a mean-spirited note attached that implied that everyone in the neighborhood was upset and even frightened by my lack of dog knowledge.

He asked me if I had opened it--didn't I think there might be even one thing I could learn from reading/watching/listening to it?

The conversation continued for about two more minutes, long enough for me to feel certain that a) the gift was from him, and b) he pays way too much attention to the comings and goings at my house. Creepily too much time.

I walked back into my yard, sensing he was standing there watching me as I threw the gift into the trash. How would I ever get along without all of these helpful souls in my world?

Yes, this has been on my mind the last couple of days, but I'm pretty much done with wasting anymore time on it.

And don't think for a second that he will ever see anymore treats from me on Christmas. Or the day after.

Did I mention that my kids got me a sweet set of dvds about my favorite dead sports team? And my mom gave me some mint green fuzzy socks. And Jr gave me a coupon for a pedicure? And Jack gave me a delightful antique vase, an umbrella stand complete with umbrella, and my own sets of tinkertoys and lincoln logs. I gave Jack a new harmonica, two tickets to a local dinner theater, and a new comfy nightgown for me. And JoJo got massive quantities of tennis balls. And there was more, including great cookies and perfect caramels and toffee. And time with my kids, my grandkids, and Jack. And JoJo, annoying little sweetheart that she is.