|
|
A Christmas spirit to-do list
I live and die by lists. Sticky notes line my cubicle, my computer, my telephone, and even the steering wheel in my car. It's an obssession. Christmas is no different from the rest of the year. In fact, if anything, the list gets more elaborate in my quest for holiday cheer. For example, this year's list started out looking something like this: --Buy presents for five family members; --Complete Christmas baking projects; --Compose, edit and mail out Christmas cards to each close friend and distant relative; --Deep-clean and decorate the apartment in a style rivaling glossy magazine articles; --Buy materials and make my own Christmas ornaments, gingerbread house, and crafty gifts for co-workers; --Drive around town and see the light displays of homes and take in local holiday events; --Pack and fly to Montana to spend 10 blissful vacation days. Frankly, by Dec. 25, the reality of my over-blown list has set in. I fought holiday traffic, parking meters and weather to stand in line after line in stores and get into an argument over last roll of Christmas giftwrap with a 60-year-old grandmother. Then, I wrapped and boxed the presents for shipment and repeated the traffic hassle to drive to the U.S. Post Office and mail them so they would arrive at my parents' home in time for Valentine's Day in February--because no matter what promises the postal service makes, I know they won't ever arrive in time for Christmas Eve. I researched and gathered recipes for Christmas cookies from every glossy magazine available that showed the perfect holiday spread. I gathered ingredients at local grocery store and navigated holiday traffic to and from home. In the attempt of making simple sugar cookies I got so frustrated I threw my rolling pin across the kitchen. I then chunked the expensive ingredients in the trash, drove back to store one more time, bought pre-made cookies and declared it good. I composed and edited my annual Christmas letter to friends and family. I bought pretty Christmas cards, and then procrastinated long enough to give up on the idea of mailing them and instead sent out a much less spirited holiday e-mail. Ho, ho, ho. In the attempt to deep-clean and decorate my little apartment I got thwarted by a knot in strand after strand of Christmas lights, which shouldn't have been there because I put them away neatly (following the advice of the all-knowing Heloise) after taking them down last season. Then, I tripped over Shiloh the Wonder Dog who's constantly under my feet, thus falling down and breaking the head off of the Mary figurine of my nativity. This caused a return trip to the store for glue. Following the promises of the traitorous and deceitful glossy magazines, I trekked to the craft store for yards of fabric and trimmings to make my own ornaments, stocking and crafty gifts for co-workers. While revving up the hot glue gun, I suffered third degree burns and fought traffic again to get to the store for bandages and burn medicine. I came home to find the dog ate the material for the gingerbread house and she was just then in the process of digesting part of the tinsel from the tree. This should make for colorful yard ornaments in March once the snow melts. At this point I decided that observing lights on other people's perfect homes or taking in a local music exhibition of carols might push me over the edge of sanity. I had one more chance, though at holiday bliss. I still needed to pack for my trip to Montana to see the family for Christmas. Surely, in the process, I could get back on track toward the festive spirit. So, I packed enough clothing to outfit me on a trip to Siberia, loaded the car with suitcases and carry-on luggage, fought holiday traffic AGAIN, stood in line at the airport, dealt with touchy-feely airport security and crammed myself into a little airplane with 50 other tired and stressed out holiday travelers for a two-hour plane ride to Missoula, Mont. Only to find, at the end of the flight, my luggage is taking its own vacation to San Diego, Calif., while I'm stuck in Missoula with a toothbrush and a grim smile. Then, for the next 10 days I realized that while I may be 26 years old, in my family's eyes I'll always be 9 years old--a side affect of being the youngest child. Meanwhile, my luggage made its way to Missoula in time to be loaded on the plane for the return trip to Kansas. Or, in airline lingo, Idaho. In the end, after all the hassles, the disappointments, the dreams unfulfilled for yet another year--and the traffic--I figured out again that no Christmas season will ever be perfect no matter what my list says. More important than perfect presents, pretty cookies, colorful decorations and simple flight plans is that I spent one more season surrounded by the love and warmth of my family, celebrating the true meaning of the holiday. And, that's one thing that will be on the top of my list from now on. Jennifer Latzke can be reached by phone at 620-227-1807, or by e-mail at jlatzke@hpj.com. She wishes everyone a safe and joyous holiday season. Date: 12/14/04
Copyright/Privacy
Copyright 1995-2012. High Plains Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Any republishing of these pages, including electronic reproduction of the editorial archives or classified advertising, is strictly prohibited. If you have questions or comments you can reach us at High Plains Journal 1500 E. Wyatt Earp Blvd., P.O. Box 760, Dodge City, KS 67801 or call 1-800-452-7171. Email: webmaster@hpj.com |
|
