I spent the past two days putting together the Barbie Dreamhouse for my five-year-old granddaughter. I was glad I had plenty of time, unlike years ago when you stayed up all night trying to get things organized under the tree. I ate my own cookies rather than save them for Santa Claus. I’m worn out from having to get up early since my industrious wife is substitute teaching this week. She does all the work, but I feel guilty enough just sitting at home watching TV, and certainly don’t want to lay in bed while she gets ready. It was too dark to let the dog out or run, so I checked all my news and sports sites and finished the daily Wordle puzzle. School is closed for the next week so there will be no early morning calls or scrambling to get ready. Our dog Tally will be back in her normal routine, and no longer depressed without “Mom’s” presence.
Gifts are wrapped, just a few gift cards to buy. We had a Winter Solstice party last night and have a cookie exchange on Friday night. She’s taking a neighbor’s family on a Christmas light tour of the edition on our golf cart tonight, while I have a Blue Breaks card shop Holiday party and Trade Night on Saturday. Date Night will follow. Christmas Monday will include a brunch and the Johnston family get together in the late afternoon. I still have several days to get the Dreamhouse finished and complete some last-minute shopping. Tis The Season.
Tuesday night I joined the Rinella Street gang for a Holiday toast at the Oak and Stone in downtown Wellen Park. These are guys that I see and wave at on my daily morning run, so I’d been invited as a welcome outsider. Even though I don’t officially live on the street and am identified as part of the next-street-over Borrego Boyz, I’m as visible as any of their neighbors. After a few drinks and appetizers, I stopped at a house just down the street from us for a “Stooge-A-Thon.” We watched several “Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk” short films together while our wives conducted their monthly Book Club meeting nearby. Curly, Larry, and Moe were a great diversion from the traditional Holiday songs and movies.
I’m pretty sure that everyone within a mile radius, if not world wide, is now aware of my upcoming heart surgery. It’s exhausting answering questions or discussing rehab. There are two last neighborhood get-togethers before they “crack me open like Humpty Dumpty.” A New Year’s Eve progressive dinner and a Clubhouse Meet-And-Greet will certainly mean additional good-spirited curiosity about my looming hospital stay. Fortunately, we have guests from Portland, Indianapolis, and Decatur arriving next week, so they will make the time pass quickly, as I count down the days until January 15th. My running streak will end early that morning at 15-years and 17-days. (5,496 consecutive daily runs). It’s been long, strange trip!
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