Oh the burden of being an adult! So many important things to do. Important things I hate doing, that I feel I must do. Be a responsible adult stuff.
I am deep in the throes of such adult non-entertainment when my cat throws his favourite toy up into the air and starts a frantic play time.
Do I sit and scowl this time? Like so many other times?
Or do I take the invitation to play and join him? Hell yes!
So we run around the apartment in a merry chase until he tells me he’s had enough.
I know you’ve got that toy!
I am busy doing more adult crap when I see the sun is setting. Do I just take note of it this time? No. I make myself comfortable on the couch and watch the whole sun set episode, and when it is dark, I tune into the dark channel, the city lights and traffic and watch that for an hour.
Sometimes I just sit and watch joyous things until my face hurts from smiling so much.
I used to be so busy. So serious. I had my priorities all screwed up. I did tons of what I dislike and had a miniscule amount of joy. Never stopped to have joy for no reason. Joy is its own reason.
I wasted so much of my life making others happy and/or rich.
The kind you eat, not the massive amount of nut jobs that have come out from the cracks in 2020.
My friend reminded me that fruit cakes have been maligned without cause. I agree. I love fruit cake. It has so much bad stuff in it, you get your chemical fix and load for an entire year! Not to mention calories.
It is not surprising that the amount of bad in something is equal to the deliciousness of the item. The more yummy it is, the worse it is for you. But it is only once in the entire year. So if you like fruit cake, indulge!
I bought my bit of sinful eating yesterday; dark with marzipan icing. But I will eat just about any kind of fruit cake.
One year, when I was younger (seems like most things now have that qualifier!) a friend made fruit cake with rum in it, unbeknown to my young self. I ate the entire thing and felt pretty damn warm and good the whole Christmas evening. But I’ve never done it again. I am quite happy with non-alcoholic versions of fruit cake. There is already enough bad in there!
Even though we cannot be together this year to celebrate and spend too much and eat too much, the spirit of Christmas remains. It is not dependent on religion, commercialism, the date or even the cat. It comes from our hearts and it never fails. Well, maybe the cat too.
I started to get the Christmas spirit a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t because the stores are playing Christmas music and have special holiday themed gifts to buy. It isn’t because of lawn ornaments and decorations and lights. I am quite sure I could be in the middle of nowhere and still experience this wonderful feeling.
Thank God I have it, because the rest of the year wreaked havoc on us all.
A little bit of table top Christmas cheer.
The tree top star was appropriately absconded by cat. Perfect ending for 2020.
You can count on one thing when you get old; your farts will not be contained.
They will be heard, and heard loudly. They will smell, and smell badly. They love to have an audience, are sneaky, and can guarantee you will have plenty of space in Aisle 13 at Walmart.
I praise farts because they feel so good. Why some of our less desirable bodily functions feel so good I do not know, but they do. And why humans have to be so noisy and smelly is a mystery, but some animals can out do us on both counts. All animals react the same way to encountering a fart as humans; pleasure for the farter, disgust from the rest of us.
My cat Sam doesn’t fart. He fluffs. Cats are dignified about such matters.
Farts are like having a trumpet at your rear end. They are smelly music. They make us laugh and cry.
So I will end this shitty year with a signature fart, it is befitting for all the crap we’ve endured in 2020.