Showing posts with label supper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label supper. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

A night of old english mystery TV shows.

As I mentioned yesterday, it's cold outside.

After venturing out into the cold, to buy groceries and supper, my mother and I ate and then huddled under a mountain of covers in her bed and watched youtube videos on a computer propped up on my lap.  The dog alternated between being between us, on one of us, and at the end of the bed.  And then we settled into for a long winters....  Well not nap, youtube watching.

Old shows like "Hetty Waithrope Investigates" and "Rosemary and Thyme" filled out evening.  It was warm, cozy, and entertaining.  The wind blew the snow around outside, but inside we were warm, under several blankets and sometimes a dog.

Those are shows that we haven't watched in years, and when we first started watching them, I wasn't sure that we'd enjoy them again, but we did.  The last time I watched "Rosemary and Thyme" I was skinny like Rosemary, but this time I was fat like Thyme, which was kinda strange to realize.  It's also strange to realize that although I remembered the stone going through the window, I remembered it as a brick, and I didn't remember much else.

And so I'm sure we will do that again, sometime, when we just can't seem to get the temperature inside to warm up enough to be tolerable.  It's not that we don't have a good furnace, it's that sometimes, it just gets so cold that the furnace can't keep up, because the outside temperature plummets so much in such a short time.

And well now we've figured out how to warm up, and be entertained.

The furnace has now caught up, and the house is a liveable temperature, and we are settling in to go to bed soon.

So good night, although by the time you read this it will be moving, so good morning.

Saturday, 26 December 2015

I didn't have a Christmas

Boxing Day.

It just doesn't seem like Christmas is over yet.  For me it's not over, anyway, because right now as I write this it's almost 11:00 on Christmas Day night.

For you, reading this, it's Boxing Day, and the big day of Christmas is over.

For me.  Well Christmas wasn't a big day today.  There was no Christmas dinner, no friends and family, and no presents.  My father fixed the kitchen chairs that were falling apart and then went to Christmas dinner at my cousins house.  We all got a last minute invitation (like 2 hours before it started invitation), but my mother didn't want to go.  I sort of wanted to go.  The turkey, stuffing and gravy beckoned me.  But my mother was sick, and it seemed cruel to leave her alone on Christmas Day.

We haven't actually spent a proper Christmas in 3 years.  Ever since her Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus reared it's ugly head, Mom has wanted nothing to do with Christmas.  She doesn't want to cook, and she doesn't want to visit.  She gets tired out too easily, and doesn't want to have anything to do with large family gatherings.

And so, we've canceled Christmas - doing things like going out to eat, or just having small family gatherings with a small non-christmas like supper.  We haven't shopped for gifts, and we've given money to the only child in the family instead of bought presents.  (He loves getting hundreds of dollars at Christmas time, and a few days ago I asked if he missed getting presents, but he backed away and said he'd rather have the money.)  We haven't put up a tree or decorated in any way.  We haven't made any Christmas baking, or gone to any Christmas parties.

And if I were being honest, I'd say I miss it.  I'd say that I really want to exchange presents, and have Christmas supper, and spend all day together, doing all sorts of things like we used to.

But I'm not honest.  I tell Mom, that it's ok.  That I'd rather not have Christmas either.

I search out ways to make it Christmas just for myself, like saying Merry Christmas, and singing Happy Birthday to Jesus in the morning.  But it just doesn't seem like Christmas.  It seems like Christmas has been canceled and apart of me is resentful that Mom insists on cancelling every year for three years in a row.

And next Christmas....  Well I don't know if I'll have the guts to say "I want Christmas.", but if I was being honest, I would have even said it this year.