On NAMG's blog post for today, she talks about how this exhausting tradition is what gives the holidays meaning. Without all the candy making there'd be an element missing. She inquires as to what traditions we hold dear around the holidays. I had to really think hard and I still came up with only one reply:
I show up for dinner and drinks when invited.
Pretty stellar stuff, huh?
My childhood memories always involve traditions or expectations put forth by my mother. Every Thanksgiving our family alternated being host with our aunt and uncle. I preferred going to their house because 1) it seemed like we were really going somewhere even though they only lived across town 2) my cousin had vintage Barbies with oodles of ensembles. 3) their basement was finished so we could separate ourselves from the adults. 4) new neighborhood kids to run around with when the adults grew tired of us making so much noise that the football game was interrupted and we were threatened within an inch of our lives.
Our present and not so distant past holidays have always (usually) been spent in the ease and comfort of someone else's home. While we lived in Georgia I would make a small feast for the Man cub and myself. I invited those who were singles, but they usually had previous invites. We would manage a return trip to the hometown of Kankakee to be with family, but finances prevented that from happening often. Currently, there is never a doubt where we'll go for Thanksgiving: Grandma's in Plainfield. We pig out; we veg out. Typically games are played after dinner has cemented itself to our colons. Grandma is prone to corrupting the youth by teaching them how to play poker. She even doles out the dough to make the game more interesting. I, on the other hand, am completely and uttering incapable of learning any card game beyond Old Maid. No, wait. I am an old maid. I can play Go Fish. While the kids and some adults play Texas Hold 'Em, I'm in the living room searching for a musical or old movie to enjoy while I sip on wine. I don't think my tradition is so awful or nearly as superficial as it might have initially seemed. It's well spent with those I love. Please don't forget about the fabulous contest being sponsored by the incredible bloggers of plurk. I should mention, and I hope I'm not speaking out of turn when I say that this inspirational and selfless contest is the brain child of the beautiful woman I mention in my post today: Not a Mean Girl. ::applause::