I’ve really never had any holiday traditions. What we did, when I was growing up, to celebrate any particular holiday really depended on how much extra cash and time my parents had—which were both, usually, pretty scarce. We always had a tree (fake, silver) and gifts (wrapped in aluminum foil, I assume to match the tree). Aside from that, comme ci comme ça.

This year, we’re ignoring the holidays. I’ve never done that before. No cards, no gifts, no tree (not even the 6 inch fake silver one I have in homage to the one in my childhood).

I think I’ll make some gingerbread tonight, and if I’m still awake, try and beg Chris into a midnight mass at the Catholic church up the street—not because I am feeling particularly Catholic or go-Jesus-go, but some ritual and incense are always nice.  I’ll also make some truffles* to bring to the in-laws tomorrow—we are not being allowed to squirm out of coming for dinner (unless we get a storm that dumps another giant snow turd across Puget Sound).

Otherwise, my eve looks like work, work, and maybe some writing.

So, to all of you not ignoring the holidays—I hope your Chanukah (pronounced Cha-noo-kah, if you are privy to that story from my college years), Christmas, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, etc etc etc etc, are appropriately warm and full of love, gingerbread and truffles of your own.

*Gingerbread and truffles? Yep. Somewhere in my late 20s, I developed some Martha Stewarty tendencies that are both creepy and delicious.