We’re getting a new DSLR camera for Xmas, an expensive gift that’s really for me. I have several small gifts for Donna but nothing approaching the camera in value, and even though I tell myself it’s the thought that matters, not the cost of the gift, the lack of balance has been bothering me.
Two days ago an unexpected dividend check came in, enough to cover an iPad Mini for Donna, and now balance has been restored. It’s supposed to arrive sometime tomorrow. Don’t worry about Donna reading this … buying it was a mutual decision. I know about the camera; Donna knows about the iPad. We took vows not to play with our expensive toys until December 25th.
You may have noticed my use of the word Xmas. Like most people, I assumed the word was invented for people who wish to acknowledge Christmas without alienating people of other faiths. I also assumed saying Xmas, along with Happy Holidays and Season’s Greetings, would offend the more obnoxious sort of Christian, which I never tire of doing.
According to Wikipedia, though, the word Xmas is specifically Christian. The “X” comes from the Greek letter Chi, which is the first letter of the Greek word for Christ. So much for pulling my weight in the war on Christmas.
Why, you ask, would I want to wage war on Christmas? Because of incidents like this. Otherwise, I think it’s a fine holiday, and the giving of gifts an ennobling tradition that brings out more good than bad in people. On that subject, let me tip my hat to Arizona Governor Jan Brewer for saying what needed to be said about Santa Claus: “I would imagine that he’s probably white, yellow, black — every color. Santa Claus is Santa Claus to everyone, red, white, yellow, black. We’re all children.” Jesus X Christ, Megyn Kelly, is that so hard?
——————–
Our critters have a set morning routine. When I get up the dogs crawl out from under the covers, stretch, and roll on their backs for belly rubs. I lift them down to the floor and they race to the kitchen, followed by the cat, who moves at a more dignified pace. I put on slippers and robe and join them there to prepare their breakfast and refresh their water bowls.
After she eats, Chewy the cat follows me to the bathroom and jumps up on the vanity counter. She likes to drink from the faucet, so I set a trickle of cold water running in one sink while I brush my teeth over the other. The dogs, meanwhile, sit on the floor beside the bed and bat at the covers until Donna gets up and puts on her bathrobe. They herd her toward the family room, wait by her chair while she ducks into the kitchen to get the coffee going, then jump onto her lap and burrow into her bathrobe when she sits down to wait for the coffee. When I finish my morning ablutions I serve Donna her first cup, being careful not to disturb the dogs.
Clearly my morning routine, and Donna’s, is as set in stone as the critters’. Mostly the things we like are the things we’re used to … and what indeed is wrong with that?
Meanwhile I’m at the second or third stage of my own morning routine, checking email and daily-read websites at my desk, writing an entry for my blog.
——————–
I try not to hate. Life’s too short. But lordy lordy I do hate Powerpoint presentations. Why Powerpoint? Because Powerpoint reminds me of meetings, which I hate even more. When I retired I thought I’d seen the last of those two things. Then I started volunteering at the air museum. Last September I gave a Powerpoint briefing. This Friday I host my first meeting.
It crossed my mind, as I was typing up a list of topics for the meeting this morning, to bulletize them on a Powerpoint slide. I don’t know where the thought came from, but there it was. Someone stop me before I Powerpoint again!