Christ­mas Eve

It’s final­ly here: Christ­mas Eve. Our friends have arrived, hugs have been exchanged more than once, the mer­est begin­nings of gos­sip relayed and received (a week will by no means exhaust Alyssa’s and my appetite for this top­ic), the cats have been milde­ly ter­ror­ized, Avery and Annabelle have lis­tened to all the music of “High School Musi­cal” more than once and sung and danced, a mam­moth lunch of ham sand­wich­es with Wens­ley­dale and Red Leices­ter cheese, red onions, avo­ca­dos, toma­toes, and fresh Thai basil and cilantro pesto has been eat­en. “A Christ­mas Car­ol” in rather unex­pect­ed humor­ous tones has been tak­en in (although some audi­ence mem­bers who shall remain name­less but were severe­ly jet-lagged, slept through the sec­ond half). Some­day, I promised, I’ll tell Alyssa how it ends.

Home to oys­ter stew, the first presents of Christ­mas Eve unwrapped, Elliot’s nap in my new plas­tic orange boa (don’t ask) enjoyed by all, and the elder Sad­offs (not very elder­ly to be sure) and Mas­ter Elliot have whisked them­selves off to their rent­ed flat. Avery and Annabelle watched “Olive, the Oth­er Rein­deer,” and then we read “Twas the Night Before Christ­mas,” “San­ta Mouse,” and “Pussy­cat’s Christ­mas,” and they are sound asleep, tucked up with numer­ous hot water bot­tles. John and I are mad­ly fin­ish­ing last-minute things with thou­sand of inter­lock­ing iden­ti­cal parts, while Hermione chas­es tis­sue paper and rib­bon. In oth­er words, it’s the last throes of Christ­mas Eve. Cook­ies, milk and car­rots await San­ta and the rein­deer on the win­dow sill.

How WON­DER­FUL it is to have our friends here.

A joy­ous and peace­ful Christ­mas to all of you and yours…