A morning in fall
It is unbelievably warm for the season. Christmas decorations, articles and discussion in the local newspaper on Holiday Trees vs. Christmas Trees, and tropical Mandevilles still flowering in my neighbor's and my garden make for an unusual mix, very different from the sensual experience in ice box state. I remember the days getting out of the house and my glasses going blind. At times I was afraid the glass would break because of the sudden change in temperature. Yes, my glasses were and still are from country over there with real glass, and therefore much thinner than any glasses I could ever get this side of the ocean. But that is another story. Back to winter in icebox state as I remember it. Then baby Teenage Daughter needed to be bundled up, which took at least ten minutes and required leaving her alone for a minute before the process so that I could start the car so that it could warm up at least a little. After the wrapping exercise - presents are nothing compared to squeezing a baby into snowsuits, attempting to fit uncoordinated little feet into tiny boots and convincing the little one whose face is turning rosier and rosier to keep those gloves on, all the while smiling happily and talking or singing to distract the now cocooned being from bursting into hot tears while you wrap yourself in the winter survival paraphernalia – you finally grab that carrier, step out and lock the door, while baby is hit with the sudden cold, and pray not to slip on the ice while making your way to the car with the clumsy baby carrier in one hand and your purse, bag or whatever over the shoulder. But I liked the always blue sky, the brilliance of the sunrays on the white snow, and the exhilaration of going on the walk with baby Teenage Daughter in tow in a brown carton box we had secured on a sled. Christmas parties, and most of the time they are still called that, make much more sense in that kind of setting with snow crystals on the ground instead of students walking around in T-shirts and drinking mulled wine while the thermometer registers 60 F outside.
Official Holiday parties – I have enough of these, even though I did not attend too many this year, I was gone the previous weekend when the first round took place. I survived the departmental Christmas party, this year in our lounge, and actually fun with a variety of different foods, the student party yesterday evening was also fine; I am missing a “Holiday Coffee” this morning at a colleague’s house who lives further away because Teenage Daughter is taking the ACT, and I want to pick her up after that experience. I looked at sample tests, and I am not sure if I could pass the ACT with a good grade. I never was ‘trained’ in these tests, and I wholeheartedly do not believe in them. But that is again another story. There are a few more Holiday Parties to come, then it will be time for finals, and then I can finally finish my essay which has not happened due to hormonal upheaval in the household, but that is a different story altogether.