Flying out of LAX on the red-eye, I was still that good, post-9/11 American who showed up at the airport two-hours early. There was NO ONE in the security line and I breezed right through, shoes -off, belt off... was at the gate, bored, sitting for two hours before a 5 hour plane ride. I was asleep before we reached cruising altitude.
PHL had long security lines for the first flight out of their day before Christmas Eve, I stood on the moving floor and watched the miserable faces as I glided by. I was shivering. It was 27 degrees and there was two feet of snow on the ground all the way back into New Jersey.
Christmas Eve was cold and the snow hadn't budged. We traveled back into Philadelphia to visit some ancient relatives who still live in the 'old neighborhood'. The old neighborhood looks kind of like Baghdad. The driving was rough because Philadelphia can't afford to plow the streets anymore, but there was plenty of Italian food waiting: a pot of sausage, a pot of pepperoni, a pot of
Aunt Rose's meatballs and plenty of lasagna and ravioli.
The Christmas Eve drive back into New Jersey was a little dicey with all the snow and ice that late at night, but it was Christmas Eve and the heat was set on maximum and Christmas songs were on the radio.
Christmas Day was nice. Everyone was coming over and I didn't have to move. It was my Mother's turn to present the pot of sausage, pot of pepperoni, pot of
Aunt Kitty's meatballs with lasagna and ravioli. (Mom can't cook anymore, so the sisters did all the work to perfection).
Presents for the kids. Paper ripping, Wii games. Food coma.
Next day: Rain, 50 degrees, no more snow, but flooding.
A tradition that started with the release of The Godfather Part 3 is to go to the movies as a group on the day after Christmas. This year it was Avatar. I some how managed to skip it with the promise to mind Mom while everyone was away. We watched cooking shows. She likes Chef Ming.
Chinese Food take out feast that night. (egg rolls!!!!!! with duck sauce and hot mustard).
Final day: Cheesesteaks for lunch and the night flight back to LAX. Security, even after Amsterdam declared war on us, was minimal and easy. Sat and watched a Terrorism Special on CNN with my fellow travelers. The flight was six hours of which I slept five.
Got home midnight. Watered the Christmas tree. Opened a bottle of wine. Drank it and passed out.
I post this as I am about to go pick up the preciouses from
The Holiday Hotel For Cats.
My Christmas presents consisted of a flannel shirt, bedroom slippers, a map of the Allied Invasion fleet into Normandy, June 6, 1944 (love it), an art print from an
Etsy artist and two lovely books: my history major nephew gave me
In The President's Secret Service by Ronald Kessler and my younger sister gave me
Genoa and the Sea 1559-1684 (Lo amo).
The Somerset Maugham novels didn't seem to cause the hysteria among the family as did the Wii. Maybe as they read them, they will appreciate them more than the Wii games that they all distributed among themselves.
I need a salad.