So much to do ...

I've been absent. You'd think I'm mourning the Tigers loss.

Not so. It was disappointing, sure, but I'm over it. We didn't even buy Cotton Bowl tickets - I would, but the game is at 10.40 a.m. New Year's Day. Our options are: spend New Year's Eve in Dallas, with no one we know (my brother is not coming ... Barbara was not so keen on the idea), or get up at 3 a.m. and drive up. Neither sounds too appealing to me - though I think my husband is thinking hard ...

Tomorrow is Nikolaus Day, December 6, where Nikolaus puts kleine Geschenke in the kids' shoes. Sylvia is just beside herself - and thrilled that one of her classmates celebrates, too. They compared notes today; Sylvia had her shoes downstairs before suppertime.

I asked Alison if she were too old; she assured me that she is not. Wonder if I should leave my shoes out, too ...

The decorations are mostly out. Sylvia and I assembled the Evergleam tonight. Nothing says Merry Christmas to me like a shiny aluminum tree. I love it - just love it. It is so anti-tradition, so kitschy. This is what happens when one is a child of the 60s and 70s - those pieces of nostalgia haunt you for the rest of your life. I'll be forever enamored of fondue pots, avocado appliances, and lava lamps. (I managed to snag my parents' fondue set - in avocado, naturally - and we haul it out every Christmas.)

Nikolaus is calling for help - I'd best answer. After that, my bed beckons ...