That would be tonight, when the last guest has left, the packages, boxes and bags have been set out at the curb, the leftovers have been put back to emerge as next April's petrie dish science project and I've been consigned to the kitchen table with a laptop and a good glass of bourbon and have wrapped myself in a blanket of post seasonal quiet.
Whew.
Since surviving the Mayan apocalypse I've been:
-a master of new technologies in finding the Christmas gift that someone who is capable of running NASA asked of someone who can barely spell NASCAR.
-the designer and turner of a piece of Biedermeyer-inspired stuff that made the present to someone who's Christmas list consisted of "oh, don't bother getting me anything."
-the black ops chief of "Operation Kringle" that put convincing reindeer tracks, sleigh runners, hay and droppings in the fresh snow of the kids across the street.
-Chief cook and bottle washer of Christmas Eve's seafood supper and every major repast in between. Not that I mind, cooking's a hobby but last night when I had in my pantry "Leftover pork roast, broccoli, horseradish, red wine and an onion" I thought I was having an Iron Chef nightmare where the loser faced drawing and quartering.
-mechanic and IT guru to the low tire pressure and forgot my email password crowd.
If these are holidays, can we get back to being sent to the salt mines? At least you knew when quitting time was.
But now its over and we can get back to fixing the starter on the truck, figuring out why the computer won't boot (that fucker has three good chapters of a new book on it), getting passports, worrying about the business climate, counting the days until spring and just sort of getting on with things.
I'm sure that the time between December 24th and January 2nd serves some good purpose. It ignites the imagination of a child and inspires them that magic really can happen. It allows us to reflect on the year passed and aggregate our achievements, failures, good deeds and sins. It gives us an opportunity to express through deeds, an appreciation to others and an opportunity to express to them how really important they are to our life.
But for me, give me a hammock, a good book, a cold beer and a warm July afternoon and you can call THAT: a holiday.
Merry Bunny Day.
That's where my ho's are at.
Bunny on.
