Gloriosky, was I sick on Christmas Day! I woke up feeling rather queasy and got through the gift opening and getting the turkey into the oven (and walked my good girl, Daisy, who gets a walk out of me, even if I'm on death's door) and then I felt really awful and got into bed. I was sick to my stomach and all achy and shaky (not a poem, but a rhyme) and was out of commission for the remainder of the day. Mike had to finish things off Christmas dinner-wise, and he said it felt just like a regular week day, trying to get the meal on, whereas usually on Christmas, or one of these special days, we work the kitchen together, each of us taking care of what the other person has assigned us as our specialities. I was so sick, I couldn't even read in bed. I took my book, optimistically, but just slept and groaned and was sick as a dog the entire day. Lying there, I thought when I was a little girl I wanted to be famous so people would recognize me and be impressed by me, and then I wanted to be rich, because I always think a lot of money makes you safer (some studies suggest that it does, to a certain extent, but not completely. Of course, you can live in better neighbourhoods and have access to personal trainers and excellent food and a good education which makes you less likely to indulge in dangerous things like smoking, but we all have anecdotes about rich people who became drug addicts and lost their money in all sorts of foolish ways.) Then, I just wanted to find work that I found important and fulfilling (surprisingly, in this, I have been successful! Thanks to all of my lovely students!) But after that horrible day of feeling so awful, I realize there is nothing more important than our health. Without that, all the other things mean very little.
Everyone in the family has been sick -- Mike and Anthony were laid up yesterday, so William and I represented the family at Boxing Day dinner at my sister-in law's. Everyone is still really sad about losing Greg earlier this month, so it was good for us to get together but there was a big place empty where Greg should have been standing with a big plate of turkey and a few choice quips thrown in when people said something absurd. Time does heal sadness like this and next year, we will be able to talk about him and remember funny stories about things he did and what a good guy he was, but now it is just terrible that he's not here.
William wants me to write that we exchanged his French horn for an alto saxophone. He joined the band at middle school in September and was assigned the French horn, which was very difficult and which he didn't like. He has been nagging his teacher ever since to let him switch, and finally, Mr. H. gave in and said he could change over the holidays, so we went to Long and McQuade and got a saxophone today. William was very excited in the car on the way home and took out the instrument the second we got in the door and started playing and has played it all evening. It isn't easy to learn any instrument and he has a lot of catching up to do, but if he plays as much over the next week as he did today, he'll be fine. I wish he'd invest this much energy in the piano.
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