Do You Hear What I Hear?
Over the I-5 and through the 'hood, to Aunt Bucky's house we go! We are heading north for family fun and a turkelicious dinner. This will be nice. We haven't been to Becky and Dan's in too long, and we'll be seeing Grandma and the cousins. I have very fond memories of long holiday weekends in Los Angeles.
Our poor Odyssey has been recruited as a moving van, so today I should apply some loving elbow grease, so our ride will be comfortable. Time to clean the windows and sweep the accumulated footprints from the carpet. We have removed the things we were moving west, but there are other odds and ends lurking under the seats and in the cargo area. Road trips are a much happier affair when commenced in a refreshened vehicle, with a full tank of fuel, oil checked, and fresh tunes in the glove compartment.
Last night, speaking of tunes, I broke with tradition and played Christmas music. I have completely strayed from my firm policy of starting holiday tunes with the Thanksgiving post dinner clean-up. We were having dinner with a little Beethoven in the boombox, but his strenuous, demanding and urgent tunes were making dinner as relaxing as driving through Orange County on a Friday afternoon. Switch to Christmas at The Pops; bliss and merriment, joyful jubilation. Maybe by Christmas I will have played all my Christmas music, maybe not. But I can't imagine getting tired of any of it, so deck my halls and hitch up the sleigh: The Holidays are here!
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