The Horror Days

I loathe the holidays. I call them the horror-days. I try to stay out of the fray by doing my own thing and keeping TV and radio off. I even hate Mother's Day and Father's Day. I used to walk for miles every year on Christmas eve, to get through it, to tire out my sadness. I do have favorite foods and if I'm feeling inspired I'll bake them and give them away or eat them! Honking on my horn with my musical friends is the best solution I can think of for getting through my miseries and is much more fun than walking.

I prefer to let myself have impromptu holidays. Like when it finally cools off after a heat wave. Now that’s a holiday! When it snows for the first time in the winter and you have enough leftovers to stay inside and make a big soup. When a wind storm blows through and you just listen to it rattle your windows all night. When you just plain old feel content. To me those are the best kind of Holy-Days.

One of the things I did like about Christmas as a kid was when my step-father played records of Christmas music from around the world; Italy, France, Sweden, Spain, Germany, Norway, Holland. We’d have bagels and lox with my grandparents on Christmas morning.