Outside the bedroom window, over a door in my neighbor's backyard, is an aluminum awning. The rain hits it with a rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, though not as rhythmically as that. Rain was pouring from the sky in the morning. And it could have been snow if the temperature were just a bit cooler. Christmas eve tradition is having some parents' family friends over, opening the gifts to and from them, eating dinner, and attending the Christmas eve service at the church (the good one where everyone holds candles). My mother thought that my arrival to her house would be immediate--she forgot that taking the train the forty-odd miles can take as long as three hours from door to door. So when she called at noon to ask if I were nearly to her house and I told her that I hadn't left yet, she was none too pleased. Later I learned that she called all her friends and my sister in tears to tell them of her rotten son. My horridness must have missed Santa's deadline since I received no coal for Christmas.
Waiting for my train in Hoboken, I popped into the station liquor store. The cashier was giving all her favorite businessman boozers hugs. Shopped for wine via price for brother-in-law mother. Ah, $9.80 is perfect vintage and it has notes of plum and spice. Brother-in-law mother gave me card with crisp $10 bill in it so that's a perfect exchange. The cashier asked if I wanted a cup to drink my wine on the train. No, no, I still prefer a jolt of caffeine to a boozy languor of alcohol.
I was instructed to go directly to my sister's house to occupy my nephew before any people arrived. When I was changing his diaper and clothes, he asked for powder. I obliged. He asked for more powder. Again, I obliged. He asked for more. So I made the powder fall down on him like snow. My sister walked into the room to find powder on the curtains, on the floor, and, fortunately, mostly on the kid.
Gift were exchanged though most of it seemed to be my mother and her friend giving each other things they had picked up on their trip to England together back in September. "Remember the rain and not finding a place to eat on Regents Street?" "I bought this in Yorkshire when you said you liked it and..." We didn't go to the church service. I flipped through book on what to expect of the toddler years; most of the book was focused on toilet-training.
I spent the night at my parents' house. Time changes there--everything is moved up by about one hour or more. I usually go to bed at midnight; there, I'm exhausted by 11 pm. I usually wake up around 7 in the morning; there, radiators are hissing, televisions are blaring and people are stomping around by 6. Began to read my father's copy of Atonement though hope to read it as quickly as possible since the other twonovels of his that I read weren't quite worth the time.
Last year on Christmas Eve, I gave up, wanted to stay home, laid on the bed when it was time to leave and just didn't want to do it, any of it. There was not a repeat of that this year.
