I think I’m too busy writing mammoth checks to men who promise to build and fix and use tools for me and my house to feel like writing. All those zeros kind of feel like writing enough.

Now, I’m baking. For the last couple of years, since Pat died, I have been a slacker on the holiday baking scene. I didn’t care, and I’m not sure anyone in the old family cares if I bake or not. Although, it had been my ritual, and I don’t suck at it, so the output is usually quality.

This year, though, what with no job to otherwise occupy my time, and by the way working sucks and free time is better, I figured I should dig out some mixing bowls and spoons and whatnot. Last year, one of my bro’s gave me a Kitchenaid mixer. I tell you what, if you are all up into the baking, the Kitchenaid fucking rock’s the motherfucking house. You slap that kneading hook on, throw in some flour and yeast and a mess of other stuff and step back. Boom, you got the bread dough all itching to rise in minutes.

Really, it is much easier to make bread than I think people realize. Or maybe it’s just slightly more brain-cell needing than slipping by your grocer’s bakery aisle. It’s a dying art, but right now my house smells civilized with yeasty wholesome goodness. If you closed your eyes to the clutter and destruction, you could almost believe a sane being wanders about the rooms.

I guess I’m a little wistfully bummed that M. ain’t here to reenact the lie of Pilgrim history. But, it looks like we’ll be spending Christmas together, so I think it’s a better trade off than last year’s Thanksgiving together but no Christmas. Maybe I’ll bake for him when he’s here. Nice to create the illusion for a guy every now and again that you are not completely feral.

Another thought about the holidays without Pat — I think she would be proud that we all more or less still hang together for the major calendar days. It would in many ways be just as easy to say screw it and toss the whole family togetherness thing. But, hey, these are the people who knew/know you alpha to omega, and you never know when you might need a big loan or some bail posted.

Compared to a lot of other people I know, the fact that my evening tomorrow will probably involve drinking and playing pool and maybe even a hot tub isn’t really a big jump point for complaining.