Perhaps it’s because I have no family nearby and in particular I’m not around any children. Or perhaps it’s because Christmas has become so commercialized and divorced from the event it celebrates. It may be the fact that in my profession Christmas is the busiest time of year. Even the soggy weather we’re having outside may have something to do with it. In any case I’m feeling in a distinctly Grinchly mood this morning. Even MS Word is in a disagreeable mood, it claims that Grinchly isn’t a word.
Since my Mother died I’ve given up on flying back East for Christmas. It seems a dreadful expense particularly when I have only two days off and I’m too played out to enjoy it. To fly these days is to be treated like a criminal and flying at Christmas time has its own pitfalls. I’ve had my share of landing on icy runways and wind-shear. Given our mobile society most of the friends I would visit with this time of year are also far away and when one reaches nearly sixty one shares with Dickens’s Scrooge the ghosts of so many one formerly knew who are no longer with us.
It is with interest that I read that sales are actually down this year because people are truly becoming tired of the sales hype associated with the season and switching to charitable donations and handmade gifts in lieu of lavish giving.
After nearly 40 years at Canada Post I’m looking forward to the opportunity to enjoy next year without hearing about all those parcels that didn’t make it in time and looking at the addresses people use when they spend up to $50.00 to mail something—if they spent even a fraction of the time it took to earn that money to get it right our job would be so much easier. Who taught those people to write anyway?
Outside this morning daylight has barely scratched the nimbus of night as we are deluged with steady rain and the promise of gale-force winds. Never fear, today’s warm temperatures will give way to frigid, wind-driven flurries tomorrow. There is a chance that we’ll get sunny weather by Boxing Day.
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The blizzard I wrote about last weekend blew in from the South-East and therefore from my vantage-point looking North-West the south side of our building took the brunt of the gale-force gusts that blew the snow into huge drifts. By the time I left for work Monday morning the main roads had all been ploughed even if they were still sloppy; those unlucky enough to live on non-priority streets got to take another day off as even four-wheel drive vehicles found them impossible to navigate. Unfortunately when people are held captive by the weather they find time to complain and our phones rang off the hook all day.
On a positive note on Tuesday our boss took the office staff out for a Chinese Buffet and on Wednesday a continental breakfast for which I made coffee was laid in for Santa’s Helpers. Dropped into East Side Marios on Wednesday after work for Caesar Salad and Chicken Cacciatore managing to find parking at Oakville Place—they owe me a mug as they’d run out. Wednesday evening, after my late afternoon nap settled in and wrote 4 letters. Thursday I made a house-call to do first aide on a friend’s computer. By the time Friday rolls around I’m ready to kick back and relax in front of the TV or this laptop. I’ve been listening to Pipedreams episodes from November—I need to catch up—and am presently auditing Music and the Spoken Word from
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