Notes From the Antepenultimate Day Before Christmas

We are waiting for the Dollar General store to open a few days ago. I asked if I could get something for him while I was in there and got this look.

The store keeper that morning told me the old lady next door died and left four chickens. One was killed by a car, two wandered away and this one stayed to mess up her sidewalk. It made me think of the things we old ladies leave behind. She also probably had a garage full of empty boxes waiting for energy and enthusiasm to arrive together.

Yesterday I got the oil changed in the car. A pushy maskless old woman made a point of letting me know she and an old man were ahead of me. I asked the guy behind the counter how long it would take to do their two oil changes….”at least forty minutes.” I said I would do my grocery shopping and return later rather than wait outside because the waiting area is confined.

At the grocery store the check out woman (another older woman) said she loved my hair.

“Where do you get it done? I was going to let mine go like yours but my son wanted me to meet his future mother in law, so I still color it blonde and keep it long until then.”

Whatever she was admiring is not combed and each strand left up there seeks its own location. I passed on the name of my hair cutter (NOT stylist) before packing cheese, crackers, wine, beer and other covid era necessities in my cart.

It appears that Christmas dinner this year is going to be corned beef and cabbage! I can’t really remember the last time I had that but Lee and Patrick will be most happy with the leftover meat for sandwiches. And the best part is there is nothing about that meal to trigger thoughts of Christmases past.

Back at the oil change place, the friendly man behind the counter seemed glad to see me back, told me that a dead deer across the road had not been picked up yet, that I could wait in the warmth of my car and a man would come and get the keys in twenty minutes. Done and dusted! $42 was all it cost. I told him he should consider raising his prices because the cost of getting that warning sign off my dash is a relief. And I suspect it is to other old ladies having to see one more thing that needs tending.

Anyway the morning was a good one between the compliments on my hair and the man waiting for a dead deer to be taken care of while he gets the warning off my dash. So good that I remembered to buy a box of chocolates for the ladies at the drive through window of the bank. They ask why I do it every year and I tell them that they never fail to give me money when I ask.

Seems to me that when you throw in that sassy rooster, there is a good short story in the above tales of the morning.

And because Patrick showed up with a bag full of apples that seemed a bit soft, I made the following:

Wonton wrapped fritters and….

Puff pastry apple tarts. Smearing the bottom with ricotta before piling on cinnamon sugared apples makes them quite tasty. My folding skills match the hurriedness to get this year behind us!

And this morning I finished coloring in the first short page of a new sketchbook. Earth pigments from here and black ink pen…no pencil but waiting to figure out what to put on page two. It will come.

And some more stitching on the fox.

I have one piece of this pathetic paper left and I think it has to have a bat on it. Perfect night critter!

And a perfect find for this time of year among the writing prompts:


If I could change something about my son/daughter/mother/father it would be

It would not be anything.

Any influence I had in changing something in my daughter or son is gone. It likely wasn’t there in the first place. They came the way they are. Born that way, immune to change and unaware that there was any need to.

And if there was any opportunity to change one or both of my parents, I would not do that either. Who knows if that change would not have altered me in some way…would have made me into someone else.

Enough for now….I need to get to writing.

Best wishes for the holidays and new year…..