Just when my bitching about the season was reaching its crescendo, Christmas came and went. And I’ve got to come out and be honest: it wasn’t so bad this year. The presents were purchased well in advance, my stress level was under reasonable control and I went into the day with as good an attitude as could be expected.
And a good day it was. My family does the big dinner on Christmas Eve, which I like because by the time 3:00 rolls around on the 25th, I’m about ready to pass out from exhaustion and dehydration caused by drink. What a dinner it was: we started out with an endive, avocado, cherry tomato and Dungeness crab salad – the vegetables fresh and clean, the crab impeccably sweet, pulled off the ocean floor only forty-eight hours earlier. We then enjoyed beef filet, scalloped potatoes and string beans with mushrooms. Delicious. For desert, we had a sweet fruit tart, pudding and ice cream. These delicacies, preceded by hors d’oeuvres and coupled with a boatload of beer, booze and wine, left me afterwards feeling weak and satisfied beyond expectation.
On Christmas day, there were no arguments and my inevitable depression was muted compared to years past. Looking back, it was a lovely thirty hours spent with the most important people in my life. It just goes to show: sometimes, mentally preparing for the worst sets the stage for a pleasant surprise.
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