Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Day After Santa

Ron on ice earlier this morning
Another Christmas has come and gone.  Doesn't it seem like Christmas rolls around faster and faster every year?  Maybe it's because I'm older but the years seem to fly by like those calendar pages flipping ahead in those old 40's movies.  

Our Christmas here in Lower Slower was very quiet.  We only had one family in the hotel, a Jewish family.  Of course I made a faux pas when they exited the elevator yesterday morning and I greeted them with a big, cheery "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"    Count on Ron to put his size 12's in his mouth.  

They were nice about it though.  A young couple with their 3 year old daughter about to turn 4 years old next month.  Obviously they rented a room at the hotel to get away from all the Christmas hub-bub in Washington D. C. where they lived.  Way to go Ron.

Today we have a MAJOR WINTER SNOWSTORM forecast.  Oh joy.  And I have to work again today.  Yes, if you have been following my blog postings this is my FIFTH consecutive day of working at the hotel.  I'm filing in for my co-worker who took vacation to spend the Christmas holidays with her two little girls.  I'll survive.

Since we have a major winter snowstorm forecast today I thought we would take a quick run up to the local Food Lion in Milton to get some bananas.  It was early this morning so I didn't expect too many folks at the store.  WRONG!  

The parking lot was almost full.  It wasn't even 8 a.m. yet!  All I needed was bananas (for my breakfast of Corn Chex cereal).  I joked to Significant Other that the "shelves will probably be cleared."  Guess what?  A lot of them were cleared.  Empty.  Wow.  

Never, never, never underestimate the panic level of the Great Unwashed when they hear a forecast for a major winter snowstorm.  Usually when there is one of these snowstorms we only get a dusting of snow here on the east coast of Delaware.  Now last year was the exception.  We got two back to back blizzards and we were actually snowed in for several days.  For real deal.  We were snowed in!

As I type this posting I see the snow accumulating on the road outside my office window.  My wind chimes at the front door are chiming (which drives my neighbor Bob crazy) so I know the wind is picking up.  Occasionally I hear the plaintive wail of the wind as it slides down the font of my house into the corner where my porch meets my home office, a converted small bedroom.  My gas heat just kicked in.  I'm snug and cozy.  

When Significant Other and I left out of here this morning for the store I slid on our ice coated driveway.  The road in our development is covered in ice.  However, the main road (Route 1) is clear and cars and trucks are whizzing up and down that artery in spite of the snow flurries swirling around their vehicles.

To be quite frank with you, I'm glad Christmas is over.  I like the all the colors and the good feelings but I prefer to have life go back to normal.  Now we're entering into that gray phase of life known as January and February, the dead of winter.  But before we enter those monochrome days this next week we will have to endure "The Best of the Past Year." 

I hate those retrospectives. HATE THEM.  I know what happened last year, don't need to be reminded.  The news organizations go through this lame exercise that absolutely no one cares about because most of their staff is on vacation the week after Christmas.  They make up these retrospectives ahead of time so it is a cheap way to fill air time.  I'm not fooled.

One thing I am looking forward to again this year is watching to see if Dick Clark makes another appearance on "Rocking New Year's Eve."  Hey Dick.  Pack it up and turn your New Year's welcoming duties to Ryan Seacreast finally.  You're no longer America's Oldest Teenager. 

 It's over Dick. 


  1. Being a midwesterner, news of pending snow storms did not phase me. My roommate from NC would freak out at the mention of 1/2 inch of snow. pishposh said my other roommate from MN who was not fazed by 2 feet of snow.

  2. Here in Lower Slower we fall into the category of freaking out over any mention of snow 1/2 inch or 10 inches. When I lived in Pennsylvania we also freaked out. I plead guilty to being a Snow Pussy.


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