Humbug

The moon slides down into dizzy vision, a bright dime in deepening blue.
Along the street of home
, straggling snow in sleepy silence.
Rising chimney smoke is breezeless, straight and true. 

I return from the shopping mall, having invented unneeded things to buy.
The right things seem to elude me, always.  Ahhh, no matter, I think.
After all, it is the thought that counts, eh?  Finding the opportune moment to sneak away, braving the Christmas traffic, the idiotic parking contests, the miles between washrooms.  And then, overpaying for some unique item you couldn’t find anywhere else.  After all, the rents in these places are sky high.  You gotta expect that.

Gaining entry to my empty house,  and laden with parcels, I nearly fall down fourteen stairs as the stupid cat tries to trip me in a bid for attention.  Apparently I forgot his food this morning.  As I set everything down haphazardly, it strikes me that I am bringing coals to Newcastle.  All around me are boxes from our recent move, as yet unpacked, accumulated during 42 years of marriage.  Some, I am sure, contain items that were unique at one time, but have never seen the light of day.  Discouraging, to say the least.

These are the things we become inured to in the life domestic.  Laugh if you like, at this
“First world problem”,  but there does come a breaking point.  I suspect it will be after I carry it all back up the fourteen stairs, in the spring, put it out for a “garage sale”, and then bring it back in again when no one wants it.

Merry Christmas!

7 Comments

  1. carol hopkins

    I have been begging our adult children not to buy us anything, to no avail. They feel we “must” have something for Christmas. I wish I could help them see that what they are giving us is nothing more than burdens. Find somewhere to display the “unique” item; pack it carefully if and when we move again (and moving again is a certainty). I figure Christmas will produce at least one more carton of stuff to pack and haul. I really just want to simplify so we have less and less to haul around. I love Christmas, but the greatest gifts my kids could give us is more time, more family gatherings, more “[presence” and less presents. This is my “humbug” moment. Great post, Lee. And I sincerely glad you did not fall down the stairs.

    Merry Christmas!

    Liked by 1 person

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