esrosedotblog

We are climbing out of the holiday hole, slowly and surely.

It was a nice period of time, nicely sandwiched between Fridays.

Not that this matters much any more, being retired and all. But somehow the power of the weekend still holds on tight.

We had a good time.

The phone calls were appreciated, the packages that came all arrived on time and with gratitude.

We listened, a bit, to the holiday songs.

And now it is over.

For many years I carried a lot of drama around this time of year but now, as I mellow out, the feelings have tempered and I can take it all calmly and, except for the occasional inconvenience, gently.

The tree is always nice to have and John scattered some of our decorations, the ones we have kept through two big moves.

There are still some things still in the garage. Couldn't let go of them and no room to put them.

Right out of the box, we are having the first day of the Palm Springs International Film Festival. John will attend. I gave up on it many years ago. Too many people and a headache quantity of movies in too short a time. The codger syndromes set in for me.

Now, I tret it as a nice period where we will skip family dinner a few days and I will listen to the plots and story lines as well as some of the dialog from films my husband has seen.

Not that this is a bad thing. It is pretty much the same as seeing friends who just went to Europe and can't wait to tell us all about it even though 90% of it is a "you had to be there" kind of experience.

I suppose I could also recite the plot of our days without him being here. Feeding the dog, the pleasure of frozen entree dinners, the quiet and aloneness.

But I will not. It is enough not to have to shoulder through the crowds, endure the asinine comments of people who feel a need to talk on line and the smell of popcorn. That awful fake butter smell.

I will stop here.

Life is good when you do not have to do anything you do not want to do any more. Especially for the ungregarious, the loners, the counter dependents who choose to be their own company.

Am I protesting too much?

Labels: films, holidays