I must admit that now that one of my sisters is no longer a teetotaler, Christmas has become a more Bacchanalian celebration. I started with sampling my brother-in-law’s very expensive Scotch (yuck!) followed by a more palatable, but still nasty expensive cognac. After the ice melted more in the cognac, I reported that the secret to enjoying either one of those choice whiskeys was being drunk enough to drink them. In the long run, the premixed eggnog with a blend of Kentucky bourbon turned out to be my poison of choice since there was no Malbec in the house.
Mom, Dad, another sister and her son all arrived on Christmas Eve. For nearly a year, Mom has been raving the benefits of gin-soaked golden raisins as treatment for arthritis. She advocated nine in the morning and nine in the evening to ward off the effects of arthritis. She even boasted of taking twenty-seven raisins the night she went out dancing. I told her the reason her knee didn’t give her any problems that night was because it was drunk. Nonetheless, I ate nine of them and found it distasteful. I’ll stick to bikram yoga for my preventative arthritis treatment.
Yet, the true Christmas celebration was being around my family. We’re loving and close, but still manage to get on each other’s nerves. What a joy it is to be able to laugh at one another! I barely managed to whip out my camera fast enough to capture the moment of Dad trying to hold up the cell phone so Mom could talk while still fixing her delicious potato salad. I was too busy laughing at the running commentary between the two of them, which I should have recorded instead.
Mom even explained her gin-soaked raisin cure to a family friend after our Christmas Eve dinner. She let him get away with eating only two! He claimed that he had to drive and couldn’t imbibe a lot of alcohol. Wimp!
Once all the presents were wrapped and under the tree, the kids still stayed up late either watching TV or gaming. They were all old enough to no longer believe in Santa Claus. That didn’t stop me from telling them that he wouldn’t come if they didn’t go to bed.
I was partially right: Santa’s little helpers, in the form of my two older sisters, did emerge around one in the morning to stuff stockings that were hung by the chimney with care.
For the first time ever, I awoke on Christmas morning before my nieces and nephews. I guess since we’re all grown now, we can get up at a decent hour, do our morning ablutions and then open presents. When Christmas shopping, I’d stuck to a budget since most of my family didn’t truly need anything and for those who did, I couldn’t buy. After all, where does one purchase “motivation” and “sanity”? Instead, I bought gifts that were made by Austin artists.
To one nephew, I gave a mixed media painting of a DJ.
To my brother-in-law, I gave a designer nightlight. My sister, his wife, is a firm believer of nightlights. Plus, since that particular company customizes its products, I figured it would be a fun thing for them to do in the future if they ever wanted to make company nightlights for their business.
To one of my sisters, who dabbles in catering and teaching art classes, I gave an apron with pockets.
To my other nephew, I gave DIY set of cards that he can decorate since he is a hardcore Leggo fiend.
To Dad, I gave a shaving kit. He’s been sporting the cue ball look for a few years now; so I know he’ll make great use of it.
To one niece, I gave a designer cloth brooch and “math genius” bobby pins.
To the other niece, I gave a DIY stuffed animal kit.
My sister, who photobombed this picture, designed the plate that I’m holding. She’s the only one who made her Christmas gifts.
To Mom, I gave a necklace that was a repurposed antique plate chard.
To my other sister, I gave a fascinator since her hat collection is catching up to her shoe collection!
After the gift opening, my sister and brother-in-law put the final touches on breakfast, which featured scrambled eggs with cheese and hash browns, among other foods.
I wasn’t even all that hungry a few hours later when we ate Christmas dinner, but who am I to complain about more good food? Besides, I felt that I laughed most of those calories away after dinner when all the ladies in the house and the kids’ godmother played a riveting game of Taboo.