Not so traditional Christmas

I got a gong for Christmas. An exotic dinner bell which disturbs the felines and seems out of place in my very un-exotic home. My brother’s choice in gifts seems to reflect an even stranger sense of humor as he gets older. Especially considering my latest birthday present: a lucky cat bank.

At least it seems to fit with the rest of the un-traditional theme we had this holiday. It was my first Christmas vacation. No visiting relatives. No cooking dinner. Instead my hubby and I spent a long weekend sitting in hot tubs and sliding down water slides, defying the cold temperature outside the hotel.

Since we’ve returned, it seems like I keep trying to shake off some type of sickness or other. About every couple weeks I’ve been ill. I’m just recovering now from the third and latest struggle with a horrible cold that has been gripping on for a week now. Six weeks to go until Spring. Hopefully the cough doesn’t wait around for warm weather.

Each day I catch a slightly longer glimpse of daylight on my way home from work. A hint of a promise of spring. Soon. The last leg of winter is always the hardest. I need distractions from the monotony of cabin fever and too much television. I need Brunch.

There’s a nice restaurant not far from my house which occasionally offers Sunday Brunch. I like to go early when the tables are filled with the other heathens worshiping at the Church of Brunch. Sipping mimosas and singing praises to the glory of made to order omelets. Hallelujah for french toast! It’s about all the religion I can handle at this moment.

In some sort of strange hiccup of Fate, one of my relatives is now converting to the Catholic Church. I now receive regular invitations to attend mass, visit with a priest, and a whole assortment of other church functions. My explanations of my mostly secular life falling on the enthusiastic convert’s willfully deaf ears.