the ho, ho, ho/bah humbug conundrum

the thing about Christmas is there’s no way to experience it in any satisfying way. maybe if you’re playing mary in a pageant, or have a giant, totally jolly family and get every present you wished for. but if you are a regular human, you basically have 2 choices—you can shop in crowded stores for stuff you know was made in hideous factories in china, then hang lights you know you won’t take down until august, then wind up staring at a plate filled with ambrosia salad and green bean surprise, then get corralled into watching football on a giant flat screen [this is just my personal circle of hell; I understand that it is heaven for others].


you can say Not This Year and turn down invitations and not extend any yourself and congratulate yourself for eschewing the over-commercialized, hokey holiday. which winds you up with a long walk along deserted streets lean cuisine in front of a tv show about international house-hunting. feeling sorry for yourself.


  1. Just found Aquamarine on my very own bookshelf (one of many bookshelves). No idea how it got there but I really loved it and will now look for more of your work. I’m an Old Lesbian (72) so happy to find a new author I love. Plus, I quite celebrating Christmas in the early 90s forever, despite then having (adult) children and now having grandsons. Just don’t do it and I’m very happy with my choice. Nevermore.

    1. susan, I’m happy you “shopped your pantry” and found aquamarine on a back shelf. you might like my latest, too. carry the one. as for christmas, you’ve put your foot down, but for the more lily-livered, a good trick is telling one set of relatives you’re spending it with another set, then switch your story around for the other set. this leaves you free to stay home, make spaghetti and watch all of “homeland” or “downton abbey”.

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