Time to drag out the Christmas season coffee mugs

 

Some of my coffee mugs are truly seasonal, and I only bring them out for the month of December (OK, I might sneak them a little early, as in after Thanksgiving, USA).  I did my first Holiday mug cup yesterday morning.

I have three of this sort.  Two of them were gifts from sisters (this one, and the reindeer one, which will show up sometime in a blog this season), and the third was a race "swag" mug (swag = "stuff we all get").

One of the challenges of being old-er is that this kind of thing accumulates over the decades, and so it may not all come out every year.  Eventually, I shall have to down-size, and the other challenge is that things with memories attached are hard to let go!  How does one choose among the mugs if one only has room for one of them?

And what if a new shiny one shows up under your tree?  You've only just compounded the "stuff" problem.

My social appropriateness antennae went on high alert this year, as I've been invited to a Christmas eve gathering with my son's girlfriend's family.  Of course I immediately accepted, but then later, "Yikes!"  I needed to find out what their gift exchange traditions are, as we gave that up on my side of the family years ago.  

One reason for giving up gift exchanges in the broader group is, we are a mixed family, some Christian, some Jewish, some claiming to be atheists.  Another is that our generation's children were no longer children, and we'd already gone to "kids only" for gifts.  However, this is new family, and a new generation hosting, so social expectations may be different.

OK, time for a conversation with the mythical son... data mining for appropriate behavior!  Turns out smallish gifts of the consumable variety are appropriate... sounding a lot like shared cultural heritage!  Social appropriateness antennae are all comfy again.

Meanwhile, Rubia has reclaimed center stage on the dining room table.  When I first changed the table cloths, she retreated to the kitchen, beside the microwave, ears back.

But within less than 24 hours, she's back on the table with a glare that says "I dare you to move me!"  In other cat news, on Tuesday I spotted a gray tabby back snugged up against my door, so I slid it open, expecting the Prisoner to come inside, but it wasn't the Prisoner... it was Ferrel, the visitor, who of course skittered off at once, turning to stare back at me.  

This morning (Wednesday), Rubia was particularly insistent on getting my attention.  She's a little helper anyway, but vocal, head-bumps, etc.  I'm slow before my coffee... checked the pet dishes... sure enough, the bottom of the dish is showing.  Refilled, she ate three bites, then asked to go outside.

"Are you going to tell the Prisoner breakfast is served?" I queried.  No answer... just prancing across the deck.

Well, that's about enough to post for now.  Here's hoping you are having a good start to your December, remembering to take care of YOU in the midst of taking care of others.  Because you are worth it, and the world needs you at your best!

Life is Good.  Spark on!