O tannenbaum

Today was the day! Ol was out with friends, Tom was in WV, and Jack was being Grinchy, so I went and picked our tree out by myself. Doing so was so delightful that I gave the teenager who helped me a big tip. The tree is a concolor fir (never heard of it before, but I like its needles), and although it’s not as tall as those we usually get, it’s trunk is quite wide. To fit it in our stand, I had to rev up my chainsaw and trim a good inch and a half. I forgot how therapeutic and fun my chainsaw is.

Anyway, Jack came out and said, “I can’t believe you went without me. I really did want to go. I was just trying to be annoying.”

Well, buddy, you were.

Chastened, he helped me me carry it in, and I started in on the lights. In my opinion, a great tree has tiny white lights, tons of them, and a metric ton of colorful ornaments. Like, the tree should look tastefully bedazzled from every perspective. Today, I had a good bit of my last light strand left so dragged over a house plant and lit it too.

Ol wasn’t home yet so I couldn’t decorate much more or he would be positively outraged. My friend Katherine brings neat ornaments from far-flung places, so I put ones from Laos and China on the plant, added an okra-pod angel, and sat on my hands until I’d picked up Ol.

Ol bought Nutmeg and Ruth a present and wrapped it today so we’d have a first gift.

Once home, we turned on Christmas music and got busy. It was as wonderful as ever.

Aren’t the Enenamen fabulous? A marketer for Fleet had some real fun one day. Can you imagine being the one to create caped enema superheroes? I am so glad my dad gave these to me. The big red ball is from Tiffany, the cardinal (and the other two on the tree) are memories of Nanny and other beloved relatives who are no longer with us, and I do like to keep support for causes going year round, so let’s hear it for PRIDE and women’s rights. Also, London and New York.

a firetruck given to Jack by Mom and Dad when J was little; more PRIDE; John Deer tractor; You Are My Sunshine painted by my great aunt; Baby Yoda; Northwestern (my alma mater); the blue and white Amsterdam city scape I bought when Tom and I lived there way the heck back in 2004.

Liberty Leading the People! a homemade wreath! wine grapes! teardrops I’d given to Nanny and then got back after she died! Statue of Liberty! a sword!

Oliver did a beautiful job decorating our mantel and really, much of the first floor. And on their way back in town, Mom and Dad swung by and hung a few ornaments too. A lovely afternoon.

The anniversary of a hurricane, noted by another hurricane, school is coming

Y’all, it has been a week. We are at that point in summer where I just want everyone out of my house. And yet, Tom is still working from home, and Oliver doesn’t return to school until 9/8. Jack starts 10th grade tomorrow, enormous news as he spent fewer than 20 days of freshman year actually in school. His first class of high school was online net sports. Bless. I made his favorite meal tonight- gumbo and blackberry pie- and he ate gallons and tons. So, as he heads into tomorrow with a fantastic new haircut and a great slate of classes, he is ready, despite a few nerves.

Last Wednesday, my dad had a fairly standard surgery. After less than 24 hours, however, he was discharged in completely ambivalent fashion, and not three hours later, I took him to the ER. We were there until nearly midnight, and as we drove home realized that the next day, Friday, was the first anniversary of Hurricane Laura. What a shitty anniversary. And to cap that off, Hurricane Ida started approaching. As I’m sure you’ve seen, she landed with a thunderous Cat 4 bash on SE Louisiana around lunchtime today, the 16th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. At present, all of New Orleans is without power, the Mississippi River actually REVERSED course for several hours because of Ida’s extremely high winds, 22 barges broke free in one parish, and 22 miles of I-10 are already closed because of downed trees, and after seven hours, the storm is still a Cat 3. And this on top of the horrific Covid situation across Louisiana. None of this is good at all. I am SO THANKFUL that my parents live here now and aren’t boarding up, evacuating, and so forth. Mom worked in her garden today, Dad rested, I brought him gumbo, and now I’m giving more thanks for the silver lining that is Laura booting them from Lake Charles.

For a bit of levity, I give you this.

Mask up, y’all, stay safe, and may our children stay in school!

The last night there, the last night here...

Today I did a final run-through, aka clean out, of the boys’ rooms. I get one real shot at this purge every year, so even though it’s a sweaty, horrid mess of a job, it’s gotta be done.

Earlier this summer, I took the plunge into Jack’s closet of horrors by attempting to organize his zillions of Magic cards into boxes. Don’t think I even tried to sort by color or set or anything; no, I simply wanted them short side up and in card boxes. In the meantime I threw out a ludicrous number of foil wrappers, pistachio shells, pretzels, the dried kidney bean here and there, and wads of tape and other random shit.

Meanwhile, Oliver’s horrific room.

I had Stanley Steamer come out to clean and deeply deodorize this special place in my home. “What are these black spots, ma’am?”

“Well, sir, it’s my hope that they’re spatters of blood from Ol’s frequent nosebleeds rather than mold.”

He looked terrified.

I imagine I would have, too.

I had frequent nosebleeds as a child. At one point I had to have my nostrils cauterized. Mercifully they knocked me out for the procedure. Less mercifully they did so via suppository. I believe that I am still scarred from the nurse sing-songing that she was just going to put this “up your hiney.”

Oh.my.god.

Anyway, I still get nosebleeds, but not as frequently. Ol does. Hence the black spots. Which Stanley couldn’t get up. At least nothing involved a hiney.

Tomorrow I fly to Maine to rent a car to pick up the boys to drive them home. Because of stupid Covid and the even-stupider folks who refuse vaccinations or deny the virus, there can be no final camp campfire this year and we are limited to just one hour of pickup. So, it’s a lot of travel for 60 minutes of at-camp fun, but alas. I will see a dear friend I’ve missed since 2019 and relish a bit of time in Portland and snuggle my boys like a lunatic mama bear starting Sunday around 11:30am. I can’t wait to see how much they’ve grown. And, having not hear from Oliver in nearly three weeks, to simply lay eyes on that one.