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November 28, 2005

if only in my dreams

November has not ended yet and the houses on my street have their Christmas trees and outside decorations up. The music, lights and decorations have the opposite effect on me than they are meant to: they make Christmas seem very far away, a tiny speck of a holiday, far off in the twinkling distance. My neighbors on the corner were busy tonight putting up lights in the glow of the blue spotlight on their lawn. Perhaps they think this makes their house look like it is lit by the Star of Bethlehem, but I think it makes their house look haunted and I'm glad it is not my house.

I'm sleepy, which is probably because when I got home tonight I ate the last pieces of apple pie and pecan pie for dinner. When I go upstairs to fold clothes I can hear that the radio in Herself's room is tuned to Wash FM--all Christmas music, all the time, right up to December 25. Alvin and the Chipmunks singing "Christmas Don't Be Late." Karen Carpenter singing "I'll Be Home for Christmas." Mannheim Steamroller mangling some hapless tune--everything they play sounds less like a Christmas song and more like a demented march.

"Spike!" says Herself sternly from her bedroom. "You bit my hair!" She carries him out to the hall and boots him down the stairs. He immediately sits down and starts to groom his ruffled fur, then stops to stare intently down at the front door, which is opening to admit Moo and Jack, home from their walk. It is nine o'clock at night and it is 60 degrees out and Moo has shorts on. But then, Moo usually has shorts on no matter what the weather. He sighs when he hears the radio. "Why does she like Christmas music so much?" Moo hates Christmas music. "It's just the same old songs all the time. Nobody writes any new songs so they just play the same ones over and over." Comfort and joy, I guess not.

Posted by JudyLa at 11:30 PM | Comments (0)