When the river meets the almighty sea

I wanted to write yesterday about seeing The Slutcracker at the Somerville Theatre, but I spent the latter half of the day with a migraine-level headache, so nothing got written at all. It goes on the list of posts I really don't want to lose track of. The thumbnail version: the perfect balance between goofy sex-positive fun and genuinely sexy burlesque and classical ballet and a totally functional retelling of The Nutcracker to boot. Also, the pole dancer. I was impressed.

I can't compare any of this year's Christmas to last: this time last year, my grandfather had just died. I don't remember much of what we did for Christmas Eve. Planned a funeral. rushthatspeaks and gaudior were visiting from Texas. I was trying to see if I could organize a minyan. derspatchel had just e-mailed me for the first time about buying a supply of Byfar Coffee Syrup from vanguardcdk because it was the present I wanted most to give my brother and I didn't want to lose it in the shock and grieving and I was listening to a lot of Schmekel. We didn't hold our open house on Christmas Day and we canceled the Hanukkah party, too.

So we lit a candle for my grandfather, because the yahrzeit will shift with the Hebrew calendar, but this is the date that will always come first to mind. And we had a Christmas Eve: my brother and his wife came over in the afternoon, stayed for dinner and built a fire out of pine branches and clementine boxes (and hardwood we bought at the last minute from Wilson Farms, because we discovered we'd run out completely from last winter) and we gave my father a sculpture of four red clay figures holding/dancing with one another because he'd seen it in a local arts and crafts show and it reminded him of art created by the WPA. Rob is here, watching Auntie Mame (1958) on TCM and almost convincing me I should stay up for The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942). We made cocoa with amaretto and crème de cassis and watched Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas (1977) and our ancient taped-off-the-television poorly-served-by-Sony-Motionflow videocassette of A Claymation Christmas Celebration (1987) while my mother rolled fudge. I am afraid she took a picture of everyone in Santa hats before my brother and his wife went home. I'll have to see if Rob would forgive me if I posted it. People are coming for eggnog tomorrow. I still have to wrap things.

Without any comparisons, play or Mrs. Lincoln, I am happy.