Look, I never really knew what Boxing Day was until I googled it. It wasn't a thing for us. I always went with the joke meaning, that it was a holiday for cats, playing in all the empty boxes and bags from gift-giving. This year, I'm convoluting the meaning even worse. We spent the day decluttering the kitchen, which will lead to filling the donation box. It has not yet, because all the junk that had piled up is actually on the table. Do I believe it will be sorted quickly? I don't want to admit it, but no. I know us better than that. Still, we attacked it with gusto, and we are well and truly on the road to an improved space. (And the Mr didn't like it when I said I'm sick of the paint color and want to change it, but he also didn't argue, especially when the conversation included ripping out that tile we both hate.)
It never really felt enough like Christmas this year, no matter how many houses were decorated, gifts exchanged, or fancy foods we ate. It was just too warm and dry, and that ruined it for me. It feels more like late October still. There was supposedly a chance for a few stray snowflakes earlier this evening, but we never saw them. There is a slight chance of snow for New Years Eve. I'll believe that when I see it. The drought maps look awful, and the two-week forecast is grim. I'm not going to feel better about it until there is a foot of heavy, wet snow on my yard.
If a snowflake did fall, we missed it because we were finally watching Ted Lasso together. I've been trying to convince him to watch it from the start with me for months. We made it through five episodes before he called knock it off. I think it was enough to get him hooked. Who could resist a show glorifying such generosity of spirit and unrelenting hope? Not I. I certainly heard a fair number of chuckles from beside me during the viewing. The real test will be tomorrow or the next day, if he suggests watching more on his own, or will I have to coax him again.
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