My my, what wonderful Christmas posts. So vivid ~ I feel like a snoop-be reading them. There were ladders all over our neighborhood this weekend ~ I guess we can say Christmas is officially commenced.
Now, oftimes one doesn't "notice" when a tradition begins, but this will be my first Cmas with SI, and I think, it wouldn't be so bad, to be in this company ad nauseum. Or something. ("Over and over ~ again.") People say get a life, and I will say "SI is alive". It pulsates and throbs. Well, blinks.
Yes; twinkling posts. I don't think anyone will be surprised to hear that I'm pretty sloppily dull about "decorations". You have to take them down, for starters. Hello. Maybe a nice display, on top of the microwave, of tickets to The Big Island to see the festive tropical fish and ornamental sunball. They say, Kuhhleakymeekyknockit, or something. (And, at the snorkel shop, "Don't snorkel there...you crack your coconut.") (A completely-enchantingly-beautiful girl, in a shimmering glimmer of swimsuit, enthusiastically fussing over my snorkel gear, crumpled my personal space and pressed her warm, soft, ample, bosom against my arm and shoulders. She was adorable; even MJ said so. Ahh, Christmas memories.)
Met a big white cockatiel, I think, who had a thing for ice cream, off your cone, but "just a couple snips, or his tongue freezes". Now that's amazing ~ ice cream in December.
"Home for the holidays?"
"Hell no."
I met MJ there, coming back from...the Punjab, no less ~ in 1991, I think it was, and I had plywooded up 1/2 the house before I left (big "remodel"), and I thought about just leaving it like that, forever. Thought very seriously. A massive ice storm had cut all the power for three days before MJ left, and as it was 10 degrees or less, she had spent the last night, honest, with her feet/hands/back-to-feet in the gas oven, sitting in her parka. The van to the plane couldn't get up the street, no one could, so she had to let her luggage slide down the ice into the intersection. The freeway was black ice with a bit of snow, and arrangements had been made at 2:00 a.m. to allow 3 hrs at 15 mph to get to the airport. It wasn't really enough. ("We slid past a reflector that should've been on that side.")
We took my parents, because they were getting really pretty...old, and we "knew" the place, and even tho our last "trip" with them was unbearable, this was teriffic. I hadn't seen MJ for two months, and Betty, local salon maven, had talked her into "...doing something special". MJ says, on the phone to Oahu, "You might not recognize me." (Why don't I like the sound of that.) I didn't. For weeks. I would look for her, and not find her, and she'd be standing right there. It's like walking along not paying attention and putting your arm around the waist of a woman who is not your wife. Sex was...weird. Very weird. Betty has always been a pest. She does not exercise good judgement.
Uh oh. Time's up. Gotta go. I guess I can't tell you about "our decorations". (Gonna go check the microwave; see if Santa's been here.) Santa might be budgeting this year (Asia n'all), but what the hay/hey, they have a missile tube near Tucson. No, I guess it's a "silo". (But at least I'll recognize the woman.) |
