A Christmas Story

It's the most wonderful day of the year: Boxing Day.

Nothing needs doing on Boxing Day except a trip to the store for cat food.

I can't seem to move out of the once desirable vintage leather club chair by the Christmas tree.

( No longer desirable because the you know whos have managed to claw through and pull out hunks of innards and leaves scratch marks on every remaining inch of leather.)  ( But still very comfortable, so screw it).

(And the tree smells divinely of fir still).

So I'm reading Delancey and inhaling deeply and thoroughly enjoying this day of rest.

Christmas dinner at my friends Ann's was just right.

She and her husband decorate as if it were a second White House.

And cook as if royalty were coming to dinner, we had Oysters Biltmore for starters, prime rib with a horseradish cream sauce, a cheesy potato thingy from Ina Garten's latest, green beans with masses of shallots and I made a salad with romaine, pears, pomegranate seeds served with a nutty vinaigrette dressing via "How To Cook Everything". Ann told me her husband didn't like nuts in his salad, I ground them up for the dressing. #baddinnerguest

I came with a friend. Ann's sister Grace who lives in Richmond and knows little about my day to day affairs (apparently) insisted on addressing the two of us both together and separately as if we were a long standing couple.

He was on antibiotics for some kind of virus and I was running on fumes from a month of hard labor so neither of us could muster up the energy to dissuade her of this notion.

Right around the time we were making coffee and trying to open the wedged closed drawer that held the pie servers I lost my voice and turned into a frog.

Over a table of pumpkin and apple pie, chocolate brownies and cookies I tried to stop her as she was telling "us" about the new Wegman's market soon to open in Alexandria and how easy it would be for us to shop there. And how fabulous the produce was....I croaked up that I didn't expect J and I to be doing any grocery shopping together, but I was ignored.

Did I want to take some prime rib home for his lab, did he feed it table scraps? Had we been here, had we gone there there? What Senator had he worked for?

I don't know, I barely know him. I just knew he had no plans for Christmas day, is 6 months into an awful divorce, is extremely civilized and would be able to play nice with strangers. Plus he drives, I don't, Ann and her husband live about 30 minutes away. Longer if you follow Google maps.

So, festive house, perfect meal and just the right amount of awkwardness to call it Christmas.

It was a quiet ride home. I'm sure I'll be able to laugh about this once I get my voice back.

Poor guy.

Wonder if he has a blog.

I'll ask Grace.

 

Or Lucy, she looks like she's got the 411.