Is Rusty still in the Navy?

It's raining and I'm sitting in the waiting room at the dentist's office, waiting to have my six-month checkup, which is six months overdue, making it an annual checkup. And I no sooner wrote that sentence than they called me in and commenced with the checking.

I don’t know anything about the history of dentistry, so I don’t know who decided that barbarity was the proper approach to tooth care. Why the scraping? Whence the blowing of the puffs of air? What in the actual hell? I have a cavity, so I have to return to get it filled. All flesh is grass.

Are teeth technically flesh? I don’t know. I don’t know.

*****
Because it’s Advent, our church is offering Confession tonight, even though it’s Tuesday and not Saturday. So I’m going to go because I need to attend to the state of my soul. There might be a little decay there, too. My son and I just made fun of a commercial in which a guy learns that he has cancer, so we’re assholes. We should be first in line at the confessional.

*****
It’s coming on Christmas and they’re cutting down trees. Every year, there’s a day when I finally start to feel the Christmas spirit, just a little bit. Today was that day. It was cold and still and the sky was clear but pale gray rather than blue. The afternoon had a Christmas-like silence. Smoke rose from the chimneys in my neighborhood, and the roofs were frosted with the remains of the tiny bit of snow that fell last night; too little to force the longed-for two-hour delay. It would have been a nice morning to stay in bed, but I didn’t mind being up before the sun.

I worked later than normal, not because I had to but because I was so absorbed in a project that I didn’t want to stop. And now I’m sitting and writing rather than menu-planning or shopping or wrapping or any of the other myriad holiday chores that remain on my list. And I know that I’ll pay for this later. But for now, I will rest in the Advent peace and silence and the evening darkness, with only the Christmas tree for light.

*****
It’s December 12, so there are just 19 days left of 2019, and I don’t think many people will miss it. Good riddance and don’t let the door hit you on the way out, nahmsayin?

I can really tell that it’s almost Christmas because my kids are watching “Christmas Vacation.” I sang along to “Mele Kalikimaka” as I cleaned up the kitchen, and my son whistled the accompaniment. We’ve been doing this number for years, so we’re good at it.

It’s a weekend of holiday parties and more shopping and planning and eating. Sadly, a friend died this week, too. His memorial service is on Saturday. He wasn’t a close friend, but his daughters swim with my sons, and his wife went to school with my husband, and they’re a lovely and wonderful family. He was a kind and funny person and a true gentleman. I hope that his family will find some comfort in their grief. I pray that he’ll rest in peace.

Fast away the old year is passing. The days are very short now, fading from bright daylight to dusk and then dark in no time, no time at all. It’s clear and cold and it smells like snow. There are 19 more days, and not one of them is promised to any of us.