James Taylor was a large part of the soundtrack of my young adult years. James Taylor, Carole King, Carly Simon, his sister Kate Taylor, the whole merry bunch. I love his voice, even though I am not excessively fond of tenors, nor of twang. There are only a handful of his songs that I do not love, that I have heard (and I have heard only a small portion of what he has recorded, over the years; we can blame that on my having been mired in the 17th century for the better part of 20 years). His version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas is right there at the top of the not-love list. Why, you ask? Because he “improved” the lyrics.
The song as written is about tradition, about getting together year after year with the people you love. It is gentle and thoughtful, and Karen Carpenter’s version is gloriously joyful. Sweet Baby James’ version is downright depressing. In a year we all will be together? No sirree! And precious friends who are dear to us, diminishes said friendships. We are talking about love and loyalty and FAITH, sir! That song was written in a time when most people were not shy about admitting faith in God.
Yes, my friends and family are precious to me, and for far more than the mere fact of their existence, wonderful as that is. They are precious because of who they are, or who they are in the process of becoming, as they honor the tenets they hold dear.
OK, I think I’m done now. But Sweet Baby James, kindly confine your pallid version of this Christmas classic to when you are singing in the shower. Thank you.
Yes, I am a little testy tonight. It has been quite the day, capping off quite a weekend. First, the memorial service for Mel’s dad was lovely. The open house to celebrate my young friend’s marriage was worth the drive to the hinterlands. I had hoped to get to the yarn store to pick up the Packers gold yarn for the fake waistcoat, but the store had already closed by the time I got back to town. I did find a wonderful stocking stuffer for Beloved’s stocking. And we had a nice, quiet evening at home. I am back at work on the ruana. Other friends, recently engaged, paid us a brief but happy visit.
We went to bed at a relatively early hour, and I woke up around 4:00 feeling marvelously rested. A little while later, Beloved awoke, realized that he needed to empty the colostomy bag, and found to his surprise when he got to the bathroom that it was full of blood, and that he had a tiny arteriole (connects an artery to a capillary) spurting. All over the bathroom. He could not get it stopped, so I called 911, and the paramedics took him to the ER, where everyone took wonderful care of him. We don’t know what caused it, but it stopped after applying sufficient pressure, and there has been no repeat. He figures he lost about a pint of blood in this adventure. His BP was 156/40 before they transported him.
Enough of our kids on both sides, showed up to support us. Firstborn and 1BDH left a little before we did and had the bathroom mostly cleaned up by the time I was able to bring Beloved home. We took turns dozing and napping, off and on all day. Watched the Cowboys lose in overtime.
Bishop and his wife came over with a goodie plate (with lots of yummy cheese and crackers, as well as chocolate), and our friends the V’s came over and caroled one verse before hugging us almost to bits and leaving a small bag of cake balls. I haven’t cooked all day, but we haven’t starved, either.
We did not go to church. I did not conduct Primary (and, in fact, the Primary president, who is a doctor’s wife, came and sat with me in the ER until our kids showed up), and we were not able to have our kids at church with us today, which is a little sad. I think I cried enough for good mental health, but mostly I ate and slept and puttered around the living room.
Beloved says the only way he is going to miss Christmas at Secondborn’s is if he is back in the hospital, and we are having Christmas breakfast at the home of one of the twins, and I will be working tomorrow.
I finally got enough time and sufficient marbles collected that I could reconcile the checkbooks. I plan to pay bills tomorrow before work. Just praying that I am doing as well as I think I am, so that I can be effective. Right now Beloved is having trouble getting comfortable enough to fall asleep, so I should probably log off the computer and head back out to the living room. I just wanted to check in.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!