As we near the end of this year – the incredibly strange year of 2020 – it’s time for it to go away. Plumbers, locksmiths, checking out the stove – things go awry everywhere. And when an amaryllis with giant blossoms needs to be propped up by a stand mixer so it does not plummet to the kitchen floor, it’s time for 2021.
Watching the news increases anxiety as cases and deaths from the virus present a spike or a surge. An election that is still being contentious because the president will not give up. People losing their jobs, their homes, their livelihoods. Missing restaurants. But, we will get through this, somehow, now that various vaccines are coming to our state – the best holiday present in a long time.
But yesterday, I read a piece by Diane Carman in The Colorado Sun. It was an incredibly funny and sad column about the traditional holiday letters. It was a mix, and it was delicious.
Like this:
“The traditional travelogue is out of the question, of course. Much as I’d love to regale you with stories about a trek across Patagonia or a culinary tour of southern Europe, the best I can do is mention a two-day jaunt to a fishing cabin so infested with mice that one woke me in the middle of the night when it ran across my face.”
When have you ever read that kind of memory in a holiday letter?
Only one link, and that’s all we need as we barrel into the holiday:
Chandler in Denver 