How was my Christmas Day?
Thanks for asking.
I rise with alarm, make tentative love (Back ache. Try to remember I can't shovel snow like I could even last year.)
Dress. Two strings of beads, one green, one red, for the day.
A sudden hug causes accidental tip-over in kitchen. Slam into stove, moisten pants, but Jack & I both okay.
Breakfast as usual. Fresh strawberries, blueberries, banana slices, assorted nuts slathered with Greek yogurt. Slice of Ezekiel bread toasted with peanut butter. Coffee with heated milk.
Read OMAHA WORLD-HERALD. Only two comic strips, Doonesbury and Get Fuzzy, have no Xmas theme.
Exercise to Mannheim Steamroller's Xmas carols.
Find an area rug to replace the skimpy towel on the front porch, a Xmas present for Jack's two feral black cats that eat and drink there. Don't tell. He's breaking the law.
Fill bird feeders.
Sandwich for lunch. Fresh organic grapes and cherries.
Listen to Jack sing "Deck the Halls with Moe and Curly" and recite "'Twas the Night before Solstice," his parodies.
Want to walk outside but it's gray and windy. Postpone working out on the treadmill. After all, it's a holiday.
Work on Hoffa book. Doing research on Josephine Poszywak who married Hoffa, a clear case of opposites attract.
Salad for supper. And ice cream, a splurge.
Read Colin Wilson's THE CRAFT OF THE NOVEL, to Jack. We talk, and laugh about PAMELA. What a break through!
Do dishes. Put pills in little boxes for next week.
Read two more "father" poems from Sharon Olds's STRIKE SPARKS. She's terrific. I've never been so moved by death-of-a-parent poetry since Allen Ginsberg's "Kaddish" blew me away.
Collected my good night hug and went to bed.
That's how my Christmas Day was. How was yours?
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