Turkey Coma, Christmas Clean-out

I speak to you from a happy place. I’m high on turkey and homemade cranberry sauce, and I haven’t had an original thought for at least a week. This is a state much to be desired.
I don’t think I realized how tired I was. Tired of being dog-bitten, tired of cleaning up the mess the tenant left in the rental, and tired of catching diseases from delightful young children who incubate viruses as sport, I think.
Now I am not tired. I am relaxed. I am almost too relaxed to type. I am certainly too relaxed to make profound observations on the season, but I will say this:
Clearing out boat of debris and putting it all into storage is cleansing. Attending church and meaning it is wonderful. Ringing bells for the Salvation Army is fun. And spending all year knitting socks so you can gift every family member is an organizational feat of which I am very proud. Yessss – another Christmas pulled off by November 15.
So on Christmas day John Darling and I ate turkey sandwiches and watched BBC detective shows on TV and fielded telephone calls from all the children. It was wonderful. I’d attended church they day before, and cooked the turkey the week before, so we were coasting on Christmas Carol afterglow and leftovers on the actual day. We opened presents and congratulated eachother on still being in love and d still having all our own teeth. (the two are not connected)
So. . . . there’s another book coming out in a week, and another one a month or so after that. We’ve booked our favourite two-star hotel for the Vancouver International Boat Show, and I’ve dusted off my prompt cards so I can make a couple of coherent speeches. I don’t actually speechify – I wave my arms and dance around and crack jokes. It’s the same technique I use for substitute teaching. Last year I had one audience BEG me to read them the article that got me fired from BoatJournal’s cooking column. Luckily, they (the audience) thought it was funny. I’m sorry to say Boatjournal lacked the same sense of humour.
My next book is called, “Darling, the Gulf Islands have Moved ! (or our anchor has)” The book after that will be a departure from the rut I’ve written myself into – it’s the start of a series of children’s chapter books about growing up in the Arctic which coincidentally I did. I sent the manuscripts to my parents, and GOOD NEWS! They don’t intend to sue me. Publication is imminent.
Happy New Year, and many blessings.
Catherine