Christmas with the Family

I’m sitting in my living room, the football game on the television and the snow piling up outside. The forecast is calling for 15 – 20 inches of snow today and tomorrow! Yesterday was Christmas and I got to spend the afternoon with most of my family (those who weren’t there were absolutely missed). We talked, we ate and we laughed. As usual, we laughed a lot, especially talking about things from growing up. And of course, we talked about Christmas.

My childhood Christmases, at least as far as I remember, were pretty great. Christmas for us was not all about Santa and presents, partly because of our financial situation. With such a large family we didn’t get a lot for Christmas, yet Christmas was still awesome. Don’t get me wrong, we still did the Santa thing. We made our list for Santa, went and saw him at the mall, and did our best to behave because “He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sakes!” We got presents, just most years not too many. One of my all-time favorites was Rockem Sockem Robots. I loved that game and I especially liked playing my brothers and knocking their block off! I’m sure they’d say they let me beat them, but we know better, don’t we?

But the biggest thing about Christmas was that my parents made it more about the birth of Jesus. They taught us about the reason for the season and we talked about it. We also had a Nativity scene, or manger, and that became the focus on Christmas Eve. One of the discussion topics yesterday was our Christmas Eve tradition. After dinner, we’d turn out the lights, light some candles, take some of the figures out of the manger and we’d parade around the house singing Christmas songs like “Silent Night” and “Away in a Manger”. The older ones got to carry the candles, while us younger ones got to carry one of the manger figures. Oh, and if we weren’t really singing, Dad let us know to pick it up a bit.

Some people might look at this and think we were nuts, but it’s one of those things that I still remember decades later. And I remember it in a positive way, with happy feelings and thoughts. I don’t know if other families did this, too, but when I think of Christmas as a kid, I definitely think of this. The weird thing about it is I don’t remember when we stopped doing it, other than when we moved from my childhood home when I was in high school.

Whatever your holiday traditions, I hope you enjoyed time with friends, family and loved ones, and had time to reminisce and laugh. Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read my posts this year. Happy New Year!

Follow Up to "The Last One"

When I wrote my last post, "The Last One", I thought about how great it would have been to have pictures of the diminishing coffee cake muffin. I guess hindsight really is 20-20. But at work today I was presented with an opportunity to redeem myself.

You see, just after lunch there was a Dunkin Donuts box in the kitchen with six whole donuts left. I knew it would just be a matter time before there was only one left and this time I was going to be ready. I figured at some point, someone would take a piece of that last donut. So here are a couple of pictures (taken on my cell phone, so pardon the quality).

I'd say this is about half, as expected: 

And this is just about half of the half, as seen about 20 minutes later:

Fortunately (or unfortunately for this post), someone decided to take the rest of it. So I feel like I at least partially redeemed myself, even if there aren't pictures of ever-smaller pieces of the last donut.

The Last One

Bring a pan of brownies to a party and you’re a hero. Everybody loves brownies. I only know one person who doesn’t like them, but he doesn’t like anything chocolate (I know, can you believe that?). Everyone oohs and aahs when they see the brownies and you barely get them down on the table and people are grabbing them. It’s like a shark feeding frenzy, especially if there are teenagers around. It seems like nobody is bashful about taking one – until there’s only one left.

Why are so many people afraid to take the last one of anything, whether it’s brownies, cookies, cake, muffins, doughnuts – pretty much any food item? It’s almost like they’re afraid they will be cursed for life if they do. Or maybe it’s the Homer Factor. Homer Simpson wouldn’t worry about eating the last one of anything and maybe they don’t want to be seen as being like him.

Whether due to a supposed curse or the Homer Factor, people won’t take the entire last one, but they’re perfectly willing to take part of it. Maybe like half. The problem is that someone else comes along and takes half of the half that’s left, and sometime later another person takes half of the half of the half. For those of you who aren’t mathematically inclined, that would be 1/8 of the last brownie, cookie, piece of cake, muffin or doughnut. That’s a pretty small piece of something.

Last week at work there were some Dunkin Donuts muffins left over from an early morning meeting, including one of those incredible coffee cake muffins that was calling my name. Somehow I resisted and about a half an hour later I went into the kitchen to refill my water and, you guessed it, there was half of the muffin left. An hour or so later I returned to the kitchen, and when I peaked into the box I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a paper-thin slice of coffee cake muffin left. Seriously? First of all, I don’t see how anyone could have cut the muffin with and left a slice that thin. I could practically see through it. Secondly, why not just eat the rest of it? The piece that was left couldn’t have had more than 1 calorie so I don’t think its going to blow anyone’s diet. Curse or Homer Factor? You decide.

Growing up, we weren’t afraid of any curse for taking the last brownie and the Simpsons weren’t even a thought in Matt Groening’s head. When Mom made brownies or cookies they didn’t last long. Everyone got their share (2 small brownies the way Mom cut them or 3 cookies) and then the rest were up for grabs. When you went back later all that was left was a few crumbs, maybe some melted chocolate chip residue on the plate. Feeling bad because you ate 3 brownies or 4 cookies? I don’t think so. Be polite and leave the last one for your little brother? Definitely not. We came, we ate and we left nothing behind.

So the next time I see a leftover coffee cake muffin in the kitchen at work, I’m taking it. Not half of it, but all of it. I won’t feel bad and I won’t feel guilty. And I won’t be worrying about any curse.

I'm Bored

I’m bored. I’m sitting at work with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I test software for a living and I usually have very busy days, but I’m in a bit of a lull today. I’ve done everything I could possibly do on the last version of the software and am waiting for the next version so I can move on to new features. The day is kind of crawling along. I figured I’d break the monotony by going for a walk, but as I opened the door to go outside I realized it was raining. This got me thinking about two things: how I used to go out in every kind of weather (and didn’t melt) and how I was never really bored as a kid.

Growing up in Massachusetts you went outside and did stuff regardless of the weather. If we only went out in good weather, we would have been outside in May, June, part of July, September and October. That’s it! We get about 5 months of good weather and 2 months of OK weather; the rest of the year is either really cold or really hot and humid. That’s what I think now; when I was a kid, it didn’t matter. We played all the major sports (baseball, football, hockey, basketball), we played all kinds of games (wiffle ball, hide and seek, tag), we rode bikes, we explored the woods, and we went sledding in the winter and had snowball fights. We even made up our own games, but that’s another story for another day. Cold didn’t stop us, nor did heat. And when it rained, we begged to go play in it, especially in the summer! I’m sure we weren’t the only kids who had Popsicle stick races in the “river” in the gutter before everyone on board plunged to their deaths in the storm drain.

Not that you could always go outside and play. We certainly had our days cooped up inside. But we found things to do. Me and my brothers and sisters played cards (Rummy and Crazy Eights were favorites), we played games (Monopoly, Clue, Skittle Bowl), we drew pictures, we read books and comic books, we even watched a little TV - although back then there was only about 7 stations, so there wasn’t much on. We even made up our own games, but again, that’s another story for another day. Bored? Hardly.

So when I find myself being bored these days, it kind of freaks me out. I know there are things I could do if I really wanted to, or if I wasn’t being so…oh no…lazy. And that’s it, isn’t it? When we’re bored it nobody’s fault but our own. Instead of doing something fun or constructive on our own, we’re waiting for someone or something else to entertain us. That’s about as likely to happen as a breezy, 70 degree day in August in Massachusetts. Being bored, or not, is in my control. It’s a choice I need to make.

As I look out the window, I see it’s actually raining a little harder than before. I guess the walk is still out. Now if I could only find some Popsicle sticks.

The House is Buzzing

The house is buzzing. Now before you get all worried, we’re not being attacked by killer bees, nor is this something out of a Stephen King novel. No, the house is buzzing in a good way – with music.

My son has been playing guitar for about five years and is actually very good. He’s up in his room, strumming away on his acoustic. He plays songs by bands that he listens to, he plays songs he’s written himself and sometimes he just plays stuff until he hears something he likes and then it becomes a song, too. It is quite ironic that we used to have to tell him to practice and even hold the threat of discontinuing lessons over his head in order to get him to play. He hasn’t been taking lessons for over a year now and he plays all the time. Go figure.

My daughter is up in her room, playing her electronic keyboard. And yes, she is very good, too, after playing for about three years. She writes a lot of her own songs, both words and music. She’s a little more private than my son and doesn’t like anyone to hear her songs until they’re pretty much complete so a lot of times she plays with headphones on. But today she’s playing free and easy.

There was always a buzz in my house growing up, too, but it was different. The buzz then was because there were a bunch of us in the house, sometimes playing games together or watching TV together and sometimes because we were all doing separate things and competing for space, time and volume. If someone had music on in the living room and others were playing a game in the dining room, both were getting drowned out by the other. So the music was turned up louder, then the people playing the game got louder, then the music was turned up louder, and so on until finally someone blew up or Mom told the person listening to the music to put on headphones. It wasn’t bad, it was just kids learning to get along, learning to compromise.

But this buzz today is wonderful. Somehow two distinct songs being played in two different rooms seem to fit together. Not the whole time, yet it is amazing how they seem to blend into one so much. I feel like I could listen to this all day and not be bored. As I get older, I definitely like things a little quieter than I used to. However, this “noise” as some would say, is good. It is soothing. It is a proud parent listening to my kids using their talents and abilities, and doing something they want and love to do. It sounds good, but I feel even better, sitting on the couch one floor below, with a big grin on my face and a warmth in my heart.