Imagine listening to your favorite Christmas song on the radio. Next, play your second most favorite tune in your head. Nice huh?
Now, imagine playing both songs at the same time. Suddenly, your favorite music has been relegated to little more than noise and confusion. Too much of a good thing can make us crazy.
That’s how the Holidays can become if we’re not careful. We get all caught up in the cacophony of sights and sounds, and the magic moments get buried underneath a stack of “to do” lists and shoved aside by frantic trips to the store.
You cool our heels in long lines and get home to find the asparagus got left on the conveyer belt. So you rush back to store and pick up a lot of things you don’t really need “just in case.” How many pans of Sister Shubert’s and cream cheese do we really need?
On Saturday I had 10 of my best chums in for a little Holiday brunch. I ran around like a chicken that just lost it’s head to a meat cleaver. I was filling the water goblets, searching for the butter knife, and balancing two casseroles on one arm like a waiter in a fancy restaurant.
While the guests were coming in the front door, I shoved Rebel out the back door just before he threw up. Uh oh, this wasn’t a good sign since I’d been slipping him little bits of this and that I was about the feed my guests.
The daughter of one of my pals observed the frenetic activity until she could stand it no longer. She sneaked over and whispered conspiratorially. “We have a bit of attention deficit disorder, perhaps? How did she know!?
In the meantime, I burned the garlic grits slap up. Did you know you could burn grits? I didn’t. They came out the color of asphalt which would have been fine if they had not also tasted like asphalt.
My breakfast casserole – so lovingly assembled and beautifully crafted had the taste of bubble wrap. We used an entire bottle of Tabasco trying to give them some flavor.
The person who gave me the recipe assured me it was “to die for” and I’m sure her guests probably told her that. I mean, who’s going to tell you your casserole is tasteless as three-day old mud.
Do not ever believe your guests. Mine politely said “Emily, this isn’t so bad.” Not so BAD! Oh yeah. Like that was going to make me feel better! I wanted to dump my entire plate down the garbage disposal and go to the Little Dooey for some take-out.
The meal was rescued by some delectable desserts, none of which were products of my kitchen. My girl friends bought dessert.
Next year, I’m going to invite them all back again, but separately. One at a time. And I’ll serve something I’ve actually made before – something tried and true. That means scrambled eggs and bacon.
Today I went to the book store and picked up a paperback on ADD. It offered some useful tips such as running a constant dialog to yourself as you do your chores. “Now I’m chopping onions. Now, tears are running down my face” – stuff like that to keep you focused. If you see me wandering around Kroger, mumbling to myself, I’m working on my attention deficit.
While it’s good to pursue the perfect Merry little Christmas, keep in mind that the magic is there somewhere. You blink and you miss moments to treasure for a lifetime. It’s a precious commodity best enjoyed in small helpings.
Here’s a magic moment from Saturday – Marie and her little bag and shoe. She only got one shoe though!