The wind has shifted

...and the store isn't freezing anymore.

Getting ready to Christmasify the store. I wonder if that will put me in the mood. Even with the snow, I'm just not Christmasy.

Part of it is that things are so quiet now, I think. Christmas was A Very Big Deal as I was growing up. Mom made the house look like the North Pole; multiple trees, large and small, garlands and decorations everywhere, Seasonal tea towels and table cloths-even Christmas print toilet paper and paper towels.

Dad started bringing in the goodies at the first of December. Every grocery shopping trip had extras. We all got our favourite pop and whatever candies and things, plus all the stuff for guests. And he brought in his gifts from work everyday, too. He was the head of shipping and receiving for his company for years and years, so all the regular drivers made sure to bring him things. Usually, it was booze. I don't remember Dad having to buy his own rye until well after that company had been bought and stripped by a corporate raider.

And Dad took and left bottles at parties and things, as well as giving each of the guys who put in our central air system a 26 oz bottle of Canadian Club rye as a thank-you. :D The year my brother and I counted, he got 26 bottles of CC, 4 Crown Royal, a couple of boxes of booze filled chocolates, some regular chocolates, 3 boxes of Misty Mints, 4 boxes of fruit jellies and a crystal decanter of brandy filled chocolates. I think he got a couple of tins of homemade cookies from the girls in the office, too. Not a bad haul.

It's kind of weird, but the sight of a row of bottles of Canadian Club says Christmas is coming. The funniest part of all of this-my Dad drank so infrequently that one bottle lasted most of a year. Maybe two. But if my Mom made homemade Irish Cream, in went a bottle of the good stuff. By today's prices, I think that makes each batch cost about 45 bucks once all the ingredients are factored in.

From the beginning of December the house was full of Christmas and the visits started, too. Lots of people dropping in and we went a-visiting on nights when no one was expected at our place. Family parties and gift exchanges (when the family was small enough that everyone could afford to buy gifts for everyone; after that, it was draw a name, or just small gifts for the kids. When you gathered everyone on Dad's side, it came to 33 people after the arrival of all the great-grandkids. No great-greatgrandkids yet, but the oldest of the youngest generation are in their 20's now.)

Christmas eve was the start of the big festivities. We picked up my Gramma V and took her to my aunt and uncle's for the night, staying for an hour or so and being stuffed with my aunt's baking and handmade chocolates. Back home for hot chocolate and the ceremonial Santa's milk and cookies (except the year that my Dad convinced me that Santa would rather have a beer; Dad's got an odd sense of humour sometimes.). Then my parents headed across the street to have a rest with the couple over there, until the kids were asleep and the rest of their night's work could be finished.

Christmas morning was stocking time-and let the parents sleep until at least 7:30. The rule was we could open our stockings and look at anything not wrapped up, and no candy until after breakfast, but the huge apple and orange were fair game. Then a real breakfast (during which I was usually dancing around with impatience, bugging them to hurry up so I open stuff!) that took forever, especially if Mom insisted on making eggs and bacon for everyone. Finally-finally!-it was time for presents!

Next, cleanup and and peeling veggies while Mom got the turkey going. Time for showers and the donning of new clothes to be presentable, along with phone calls from the east coast relatives, and then visiting my Mom's aunt and uncle for the afternoon (more presents), followed by going back to my aunt's to pick up my Gramma (more presents) and then home for food! Of course, we had Christmas Crackers first! And one of Dad's 2 graces said, either "Grace and disgrace!" or "Good food, good meat, Good God, let's eat!".

Boxing Day was for visiting my great-grandmother and great aunt in Toronto. They seemed to compete with each other to see who could make the most food. And they remembered everything that everyone ever liked, I swear, and made sure it was there. We got knitted mittens every year. Good warm mittens with extra long cuffs so that snow never made it into your coat sleeves. Mine came with strings when I was young. Sometimes, we got socks, too. And I usually got books about the wildlife of Canada or maybe the history of the east coast. I got tea from Chinatown one year, after my 80 year old great-gramma decided to explore the city. She was a regular in Chinatown after that. She thought that the presents that my great aunt bought were too practical and too boring, so she went out and found us interesting things instead, and then sat with us to tell us her adventure and what she'd found out about the culture or place the gifts came from. She was a truly amazing woman.

We never did much for New Year's Eve like some families, but after the hectic few days, it's no wonder! We were all pretty much exhausted by the 27th.

And now, it's so quiet with my family all scattered and far away. This year the kid will be gone over Christmas itself, so it'll be just Bear and the furkids and I. Quite a change. I still can't quite get used to it. So we'll make the most of our alone time.

I can live with that! :)