Making More Memories

We opened presents at Jorge's mom's place Christmas morning. We enjoyed Uncle B's annual open house, complete with lox and bagels, visiting with his ever-expanding family and seeing old friends. We met my unaccompanied nieces at the airport and whisked them away to my parents' where they and my other brother and his family waited with a big dinner and loads more presents.

The car emptied quickly in all the excitement and I was left unloading bags: ours, theirs, presents... As I finished, Bee met me in the driveway and handed me the telephone. Her mom had called to wish us a merry Christmas and then Jorge, who had been dropped off after the airport run to pick up an extra vehicle, phoned to say he was going to be a few more minutes and not to delay dinner on his account.

I arrived back inside the house to find that was no trouble at all.

The five junior girls had been seated at a poolside table set for five, the three littlest cousins had a small table set for three, and the adult table, meant, presumably, to accommodate six of us, my mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, Jorge, and me, had been set for four. Everybody was already having seconds.

Next year: "Thanks, but no thanks."

Making Memories

On the phone with my mother this morning:

"What's the plan for Christmas Eve, Mom?"

"We're going to the 5:30 [Mass] and then we'll probably go out and get a bite. You and Jorge and the girls are welcome to come along."

"Like last year. We're not going to church but we might meet you for dinner. Where are you going? Outback [Steakhouse] again? Is [brother] coming too?"

"No, not Outback. We went to the Cheesecake Factory last year."

"No, it was the Outback right by your house."

"No, it was the Cheesecake Factory up in Boca."

"No, it was definitely the Outback by your house. There's no way we'd drive all the way up to Boca for that. We did go up to the Cheesecake Factory with [brother] and [sister-in-law] and the kids, but it wasn't Christmas Eve."

"Oh, yes, it was. I distinctly remember the baby up and down the stairs, he was just learning to walk and I was a nervous wreck..."

"Yeah, I remember that too, we did have dinner with them all up there, but it was just a dinner. Not Christmas Eve. I distinctly remember being completely embarrassed because you were all concerned that we were not dressed up fancy enough in proper requisite red and green Christmas attire and kept taking pictures and made us open presents at the table and had to tell every single employee that your daughter and her family actually live in Australia and [niece] was busy running around the table and almost tripped a waiter carrying a giant tray of food..."

"You always dwell on the negatives. I'm sorry your memory is so poor..."

On the phone with my sister-in-law, later:

"Are you guys coming down Christmas Eve?"

"No. [Brother] doesn't want to be driving all over the place. Your mom and dad are still coming up to spend the night with us, though."

"Yeah, same as last year. Hey! Do you remember going out to eat last year after you guys all went to church together?"

"Yeah..."

"Was it Outback or The Cheesecake Factory? 'Cause my mom swears it was the Cheescake Factory and told me my memory must be going."

"We all went to the Cheescake Factory one night, but it wasn't for Christmas Eve. After church we went to the Outback down the street from your parents' house. But I don't remember you guys being there..."

She passes the phone to my brother and the conversation resumes:

"Okay. Do you remember last year, after you and Mom and Dad went to church? Before they drove up to spend the night at your house? We met you for dinner at the Outback?"

"Uh, not really, maybe..."

One more phone call, to Jorge this time, for a sanity check and to rant about why we bother traveling halfway around the world for the holidays when no one even seems to recall we were here.

From The Stacks -- Update

A little more forethought back when I signed up would have eliminated this need to alter my reading plan:

God's War: A New History of the Crusades, as much as I want to read it, particularly before we begin our tour of the Middle Ages, at 1040 pages and 3.4 lbs. is simply not going into my carry-on.

A Child's History of the World, technically one of our school books, doesn't make the grade seeing as we will be officially on vacation.

Meanwhile, I plug away at and thoroughly enjoy Middlemarch, a book a British acquaintance took note of as we sat waiting for our kids' tennis lessons to finish. In response to her question how it was going, I replied that I didn't think I would ever get through it. "Oh, too hard?" "Uh, no, just the constant interruptions", I answered as tactfully as possible.

The Subtle Knife is finished and we are halfway through The Amber Spyglass. I hope to finish the last book in the trilogy before we leave, though the going is much slower due to holiday shopping, packing, and house-moving packing going on simultaneously.

I've lost interest in reading Utopia, once again, and besides, it's already been packed into one of the ten or so boxes of books creating a navigation hazard on my living room floor.

But, in the spirit of the challenge, I've begun re-reading Morris Berman's The Twilight of American Culture.

And I'll surely find something worth reading on my Florida shelves.