Marge called and has a bad cold, so wasn't able to go to the Seaport "Christkindtl," but we had a nice talk. I drove past the Seaport and it was just as well: It was set up in the parking lot and attendees had to park a block or more away. With her problem knees, Marge never could have done it. I'm a little sorry to have missed it myself, but there'll be others, if not this year, then next.
Got a call from Betty, who's also battling a very bad cold--who knew they had colds in California?--and hoping she'll be okay for her trip to Florida on Tuesday.
Puttered around the rest of the day, until it was time for the "tree-lighting ceremony." Neighbors Judy and Roman throw the most spectacular parties, and last night's was no exception. It started at 5:30, when I went over to join about 35 neighbors. In the backyard, there were thousands of tiny white lights covering a richly decorated fir tree (not yet lit), a trellis, bushes, and other trees. Tables were set up with eggnog, rum, wine, soda, cookies, cheese and crackers, and other appetizers while Judy and a hired helper walked around with trays of hot nibbles. (All these were just preliminaries to the full spread inside.)
A blazing fire was set in a big metal tub, partly in the ground, and we sang Christmas carols and songs around it. Roman gave everybody a raffle ticket and three people were selected to throw the switch to light the tree. They did and there were cheers all around.
Soon, Santa showed up, sounding a lot like Walter, Susan's husband, with his slight Canadian accent. He told us we were good boys and girls, but was immediately shouted down as we insisted we were not good, but bad kids, we liked it that way, and he'd better get used to it.
We moved inside to a house that truly looked like a Christmas store, or a toy store, or your worst nightmare of over-decoration. There was a four-foot Santa who moved his head and arms as he boomed out a variety of welcoming phrases; snowmen and other figures of every size and shape, all of which moved, sang, or lit up, as well as bells, trees, garlands, candles, wreaths, and every other accoutrement (of XMAS, not "Christ-mas") you can imagine.
Judy is nothing if not an over-reacher, and the food was enough for an army. There were spreads on both the dining room and kitchen tables, as well as on every end table and other flat surface in the house. It included sandwich trays, shrimp, vegetables and crackers with dip, salads, big platters of meats and cheeses, a variety of breads and rolls--not to mention the cookies, candy, and other desserts. Of course, every possible drink, alcoholic and soft, was set out for people to enjoy. I indulged as I haven't in months, stuffing my face at the same time I listened to the compliments and exclamations about my weight loss from people I hadn't see lately.
I enjoyed chatting with everybody, then filled a platter with desserts for Pat and brought them over to him. I had told Judy I'd go back and I did, just in time to have her and the helper come into the dining room with two big cakes, blazing with candles. It was my friend, Iris' and another person's birthdays, and we all sang you-know-what to them. Then Art M. pouted, "Well, how about me--I have a birthday, too." "When's your birthday?" he was asked, and he said, "April 25." Of course, we all laughed and sang "Happy Birthday" to Art. I selected some cake for Pat and left about 8:00.
I really sugared myself, but good, when I got home. Pat liked some of the goodies I had brought, but not all, so I was forced to eat them. While we watched a bio of Mario Lanza, I washed down several large cookies with a glass of milk, adding to the six billion calories I had eaten at the party.
Of course, I'm not at all concerned about over-indulging. I'll go right back to my heavily-vegetable regime and continue to lose weight.
Today, I want to finally complete my list of errands to run and things to do, as I'll be gone all day tomorrow at attend Jen's grandmother's funeral in Bristol, Pa.