Ruffled Feathers and Spilled Milk

Farming with ducks and dairy goats, chickens and children.

Channeling Grandma

Posted on | December 23, 2025 | No Comments

So we survived the winter solstice–the darkest day of the year. (Besides the day that you step on the scale after the holidays. Although that day is beyond dark. That day is the complete absence of light.) Now we will have one more minute before sunset each day. Which means when you climb into bed at 6:00pm, thinking it is already 9:45pm, it will actually be 6:01pm. You still have 3 hours and 59 minutes that you should be using to get your Christmas shopping done. That’s right. After the solstice, those of us that celebrate Christmas begin the precipitous slide into the holiday of joy and peace. It’s all downhill from here.

Usually I find that particular saying to be very confusing. Is downhill good? Does that mean things are getting easier? Or are we descending into the depths of hell? Is the correct saying “It’s all uphill from here”? Meaning we are ascending to the peak of something amazing? Of course, anyone who’s walked uphill knows that it is not a source of joy. Not at all. So much contradiction. Which actually makes it perfect for Christmas. The sparkling lights and festive decorations. But the crowded parking lots and declining bank account. Finding the perfect gifts for your loved ones. But sitting through another White Elephant party at work. (To which someone brings a Diddy party pack with baby oil. At work.) So much extra time with family. But so much extra time with family. Who knows if we’re going uphill or down???

Of course, holidays aren’t the same as they used to be when I first started writing this blog. Back then I had a houseful of little people depending on me to provide the magic of the season. Which I did. Oh, I did. There was a window of 24 mini-stockings—each with a slip of paper listing the festive food, craft, or activity we would be doing that day. One every day until Christmas. Every day. There were nights of driving through Christmas lights, including ones that we paid to see. Paid. There were trips to live Nativity scenes with sheep, donkeys, and camels. Camels. There were homemade cookies with every type of candy sprinkles imaginable. Candy sprinkles everywhere. Christmas movie marathons with hot chocolate and candy canes as stirrers. Double the sugar before bedtime. Before bedtime. Every time I see a TradWife social media post, I have to chuckle to myself. Please, bit*h. We were doing that shit without Pinterest, Instagram, or TikTok to give us ideas. We had to crowd source that stuff with other moms at the library or the school holiday concert. Ah, the new generation of stay at home moms without 401Ks, social security, or health insurance when they get old has it so easy.

I know there are some parents and grandparents out there that miss those holiday times. And that’s ok. All feelings are valid. The best way to deal with those feelings is to stay so busy you don’t have to think about them. Oh wait. No. No, that’s not right. The best way is something about sitting with them or feeling them…which is weird because I already felt them. That’s why they’re feelings. Actually, I think the latest research is to use psychedelic mushrooms to release the feelings. But I digress.

The older I get the more I realize you don’t have to do things because “that’s the way it’s always been done.” There are no “Always Been Done That Way” police. I mean, there is public censure and subtle shaming and collective disapproval. But none of that works on women over 50. Those tactics only work on women with much higher levels of estrogen than us. I haven’t written on this blog in three years and I’ve learned a lot in that time. You can keep trying to shove your life into the way things used to be. But there is a lot of joy in doing something different. And there is a lot of peace in doing what works for you now.

There was a time when my Grandmother made dinner from scratch, including separate choices based on each child’s likes and dislikes. (She had 9 children and that capital G isn;t accidental. You can have your God, I can have mine.) But when my Grandmother was much older, she created the tradition of going to the local hotel for their holiday meal buffet. It was white tablecloths and tiered serving platters and classical Christmas music playing softly in the background. Family members came and went, ate what they wanted, visited among themselves, and always spent some time at her table, chatting and catching up. It wasn’t the family gathering that you see on the Hallmark Channel or on the front of Christmas cards. But it turns out that what worked for her, worked for everyone else too.

Over Thanksgiving I returned from a quick trip with a friend to San Diego, worked a 24 hour shift, and then served a turkey meal with sides from Cracker Barrel that I heated up by scratch in the oven. Everyone liked it so much that I’ll be heating up a hot prime rib meal with sides from Cracker Barrel for Christmas. Works for me. As a matter of fact, this year I switched out the lovely yet time-consuming white lights wrapped around the crepe myrtle trees and up the trunks of the magnolias for those plug-in light displays that projects red and green dots in patterns all over the trees and the house. I can’t tell if I like it so much because it’s gloriously tacky or just so gloriously easy. The presents are already under the tree because I wrap them up and put them there as I go along. No more hiding things in closets and wrapping frantically on Christmas Eve. And instead of festive activities with little kids, I now do activities with friends. I went to a marvelous show at the Performing Arts Center, had an afternoon cookie exchange, and spent a day hiking in the mountains, riding an Alpine roller coaster, and eating an elk burger.

I know my Grandma would approve. She could turn change into joy and peace for everybody. So when you’re not sure if you’re headed uphill or down this holiday season, try channeling my Grandma. As for me, it’s Christmas movie night. I intend to put together a ginger bread house while watching Dwayne Johnson in his new Christmas movie, Red One. Because The Rock is a Christmas present for all humankind.

Can you smell what the Cracker Barrel is cooking? Oh, I can. Prime rib with hash brown casserole, baby!

Category: Uncategorized

Comments

Leave a Reply





  • Archives

  • Tags

    barn beach bucks butcher cat chicken chickens chicks coop corn dog dogs duck ducklings ducks eggs fence flowers garden goat goats grass greenhouse guinea guineas keets kidding kids lettuce livestock guardian milking parade pig pony potatoes river rocks seedlings seeds snow straw bales tomatoes tractor transplants weeds
  • December 2025
    M T W T F S S
    1234567
    891011121314
    15161718192021
    22232425262728
    293031  

  • Meta

  • Humor & Funny Blogs - BlogCatalog Blog Directory
  • Best Green Blogs
  • Blogs Directory