Doright Manor was too quiet this Christmas. Studly Doright and I had gotten together with our kids and grandchildren in Texas at Thanksgiving, so we had to suck it up and spend Christmas without them. I’m going to be honest and tell you, Christmas for just us two isn’t much fun.
We tried to be as festive as possible. We took in a movie on Christmas Eve and then drove around Tallahassee to view the holiday lights, returning home to open gifts from each other. We’d agreed neither of us needed any big gifts this year, so I bought Studly books (he really isn’t a reader, but I always hold out hope), and T-shirts featuring vintage motorcycle brands.
He bought me Star Wars stuff: a Resistance leader’s jacket, a BB-8 handbag, and several pieces of jewelry in the shapes of light sabers and droids. So if anyone in Tallahassee sees a late middle aged woman sporting any of the aforementioned gear, you can be fairly certain it’s me. Say hello and we’ll go find some First Order thugs to put in their place before heading for coffee.
Our dinner on Christmas Day was outstanding, even if I do say so myself. I ran Studly out of the house to work in his shop, opened a bottle of Chardonnay, and made a meal for the ages. I’m a much better cook when fueled by wine, and that’s a fact. Studly went back for seconds and thirds which I took as the highest compliment. And the pecan pie, oh my word! It was one of the best ever. Studly said I was going to have to stop telling people what an awful cook I am.
We went to another movie after dinner, getting home much later than is our norm (10 p.m! Absolutely decadent!) and then spent a quiet post-Christmas Tuesday. I had planned and executed the perfect turkey and cheddar sandwich on soft white bread for dinner, while Studly warmed up the leftover turkey and dressing for a repeat of Christmas Day’s meal.
So, while nothing exciting happened, and we missed being with our children, we had a pleasant holiday. I’m writing this on Tuesday evening and thinking I might have to have one more piece of pecan pie. Wednesday’s post most likely will deal with how none of my pants will button. Exciting stuff. Stay tuned.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 
It sounds like the same paradise we had. We saw the family clan the week before so had nought to do but nought. My choice of Christmas dinner? Bread and cheese, yet I stress not just any ‘bread and cheese’ – French on both counts, plus we tucked into some fine reds.
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Now your dinner sounds just right! And a lot less stressful!
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It was OK, although yours sounded much more professional. Shirl, I recall went for venison and when Lord Z showed his face it was for his mother’s home made macaroni cheese. People think us odd.
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As we say here, “whatever floats your boat!”
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We say that also.
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And that’s most likely where we got it….
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It’s seems it’s origin is likely American. There are a few ridiculous claims on ghe net regarding the meaning and origin of the saying (some quite rude, and I presume that is because it is a phrase of multi-purpose) yet America looks to be its source for certain.
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Aha! You know, I’m glad we can claim something that originated here!
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Sounds like a great Christmas! While my human ran all around south Texas visiting brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, and a BUNCH of beautiful great nieces and nephews, I was home snuggled up in my bed, just relaxing. Merry Christmas!
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Sounds purrfect!
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Spending Christmas on our own took some adjusting, as well. Mostly, adjusting of expectations, I suppose. We don’t have kids, but we’ve shared loud, boisterous holidays with my siblings, parents, nieces and nephews in years past. Just the two of us is quiet!
We’ve made our own traditions (rather pared down), and it gets easier each year.
Cooking with wine is such a great suggestion, but I’m not sure about the directions: does this count for making breakfast, as well?
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Ah, for breakfast try a little Irish creme with your coffee….
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