Now that Christmas is over (and it truly was one of the best, happiest Christmases I can recall in a long time), I spent the afternoon focusing on everyone's favorite post-Yule ritual: the spending of the gift cards. I don't always look like a clothes horse, but I do absolutely adore shopping for clothing, so my first visit was to the mall. I know, they're somewhat pedestrian, but I really like Van Heusen shirts, and so I bought myself one that's a light shade of military green, as well as a soft tan Geoffrey Beene. Then, after a walk around the mall and supper (Chinese), we went to Borders, and I bought the latest issue of The New Yorker , a copy of Avenue Q , and The Origin of Satan , by Elaine Pagels.
Speaking of The New Yorker , probably the best article I've read this year appeared in the December 13 edition--"Mysterious Circumstances," by David Grann, which deals the mysterious death of the world's leading Sherlock Holmes scholar. The story was also picked up on NPR, but the skillful way in which the writer tells the story of this scholar, and interweaves the life story of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, left me shaking my head in wonder. It left me with a HUGE longing to pick up a copy of the collected Sherlock Holmes. Anyone know where to pick up such a beast? I couldn't find a complete collection at Borders.
I'll say it again: I couldn't have asked for a better Christmas. It did start with a small meltdown Christmas eve, when Ashley learned I wouldn't be eating dinner at Josie's parents', but after that, it was marvelous. Josie and I brought the kids to my parents' condo in Plymouth, had dinner, exchanged presents, and then drove back home to get the kids to bed. Corb arrived around 11:30, and had wrapped a bunch of presents for me at work. We didn't finish Santafying the house until two. The next day, I spent the morning with the kids, then drove to the house of Corb's brother. Corb's Mom has superb taste in gifts, and I received two beautiful martini glasses and a martini shaker, something for which I've been longing.
Corb and I didn't exchange gifts until five in the afternoon. He gave me Buffy Season Six , and I gave him Wonder Woman . Yes, I'm perfectly aware of what that sort of screams. But the cards we gave each other don't even begin to tell the story of how much I love my guy.
That night, the kids came over, and we watched TV and all snuggled on the couch, watching Buffy get resurrected. Tonight I've been able to work on The Artist's Way , and that's tipped the balances, somewhat.