Yule be home for Christmas (and so will we)

On the first day of Christmas, my daughter gave to me --- a fabulous post-nasal drip. Gee, thanks, younger daughter.

Elder daughter appeared at the bedroom, as I dozed on and off, floating in a pleasant haze of cold medication, sat cross-legged on the bed and opened her stocking which included a humane spider catcher The problem is, the kit includes a plastic spider for practice and elder daughter is creeped out by it...

We'll have patience with her arachnophobia, however, because we learned yesterday that she had been awarded the George B Pickett Prize for "highest aggregate grade in First Year Journalism" at the University of King's College. An early Christmas present? More like a really late summer's present. She only found out that she had got this when she went to check her Christmas exam marks online and noticed that this had appeared on her page. Still, it's an encouraging sign that she's picked the right major. (Clearly, entomology would have been a bad move.)

Younger daughter waited until no one was looking, then quickly took her groaning stocking to her bedroom and shut the door. I could hear her reading aloud, no doubt deciphering the lengthy explanatory notes provided by her grandmother. Later, she appeared in the kitchen, clutching hazelnut spread and two bags of tealeaves: chocolate cream chai and egg nog. "Santa brought them," she informed me briskly. She had carefully sorted and put away her treasures, which is a bit of a pity, because I can't remember what they were...

As for me, I got Turkish Delight (the good stuff, not the dollar store perfumed kind) and enough chocolate to do minimal damage. And in the grand tradition of book-giving between Demeter and myself, a biography of Beatrix Potter which I have to give back. This time, Demeter has actually read it, but wants it for a friend of hers.

The Resident Fan Boy and younger daughter have trudged off to church amid the new-fallen snow (Good Ottawans rejoice) after a breakfast of home fries prepared by elder daughter. Presents this afternoon and for the very first time in Canada, new Doctor Who on Christmas Day itself! Just like in Britain! Only with commercials.

I hope your day is shaping up as well. (If not, God bless you.)

The First Day of Christmas

The Resident Fan Boy donned the YakTrax he found in his stocking, and stepping gingerly into the sheeted ice sidewalks, picked his way to the local snooty Anglican church which is a fifteen-minute mince away (as opposed to his regular church which is downtown and takes about fifty to sixty minutes of trudging)in this still bus-struck city.

Elder daughter is upstairs watching I'm Not There, a surprise gift in her stocking (Santa was taking advantage of a two-for-one type dealie at HMV and wants to watch it himself, but figured elder daughter would like it for Christian Bale and the late Heath Ledger.)

Younger daughter is in her bedroom with the bunny she requested in her Christmas letter. She's been crowning him with the crimson slinky that also appeared in her stocking, while wrestling a rainbow of new hairbands. As I write this, bunny is warbling "I Don't Need Anyone But You" from Annie in a duet with a mouse puppet.

And me? I've been pigging out on comestibles from Purdy's, which, forget Rogers' Chocolates, forget Ganong, for gawd's sake forget Pot of Gold, are simply the best chocolates to be had in Canada. And this year, Santa got me a long lovely box of Turkish Delight, also from Purdy's. I've loved Turkish Delight ever since reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
when I was eight, but getting the good stuff is a challenge. This is the kind of stuff Edmund would have betrayed his family for. Ooh dear, not a very Christmassy sentiment, was that?

Speaking of not-quite-Christmassy, elder daughter got a bewildering love offering from Demeter-Santa, a double bottle of Axe Bullet essence with a note: "Read the instructions and BE CAREFUL! For emergency only. Not for fun." Uh, the instructions read: "Designed to be carried in your pocket and sprayed at a moment's notice, because there are only two types of guys in the mating game: the quick and the lonely." Self defense for date rapists? It sounds like a creepy sort of compassion, doesn't it? In Demeter's defence, she has had cataract surgery to only one eye and that was the one with retinal damage and she is not due to have the second eye done until Epiphany. (She also mutes commercials.) Now, I suppose elder daughter could use it as a defence spray; the instructions also say to avoid the eyes, but the problem is, this stuff reeks even in the plastic packaging. It seems every generation of guys has a commercial scent that's supposed to make them irresistible to sexy girls. Anyone remember Hai Karate? That stunk too...

However, our stockings also brimmed with the ancient favourites: socks, teas from Murchies, hot chocolate powders from Cadbury's (a sort of Ovaltine variation this year), the orange in the toe, the chocolate orange and the heel, and most indispensable of all, chocolate coins. When elder daughter was six, she was delighted to get "frankincense" in her stocking --- the chocolate coins that year had republique française inscribed on the tin foil...

So our morning has begun with successful stockings. When (and if) Resident Fan Boy returns from church, we'll have a light lunch and see what is under the tree. Maybe, if we're very good, some kind-hearted soul will have illegally uploaded the Christmas Doctor Who up to YouTube after dinner. If not, we'll just have to wait for the Second Day of Christmas. Hope your day is also relaxed and lovely...