12.29.2009

Me, I want a hula-hoop!

Bebop: slang; to move, go, to proceed, (often followed by on down); Americanism: probably from the nonsense syllables typical of scat singing

I'll tell you one thing. Bebopin' on down from one place to another like the ping pong ball in a pin-ball machine has left me uttering nonsense syllables and puttering around the house in my bathrobe and stocking feet. Well, maybe not quite such a drastic picture, but we have been veritable road runners over the last week or so, from Durham to Hendersonville, Hendo to Charleston, Charleston to Sumter and back again, and in a handful of days, back up to the triangle. Stella sure is gettin' her exercise, and that's a lot more than I can say!

We arrived in Charleston from Hendersonville on Christmas Eve at around five o'clock, allowing time for hugs, hellos, hmm-ing and haw-ing, and then zipped to Saint Andrew's for a birthday party, celebrating a tiny, mewling, squidgy baby boy that changed the world and mankind's destiny as we know it. After church, we painstakingly worked on the last third of a jigsaw puzzle while simultaneously watching the all-time classic National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Christmas morning was spent leisurely opening gifts by the tree, listening to Christmas music and then a quick clean up to facilitate the preparations for the oh-so-delectable Christmas dinner. We all pitched in to get everything on the table--I won't tell you how many sticks of butter I put in the mashed potatoes--and sat down to a spread rivaling Good King Wenceslas' St. Stephen's Day feast. YUM. The rest of the afternoon was spent, firstly recovering from the aforementioned glut, and then reluctantly to enthusiastically singing Christmas carols around the table. We played games and finished the puzzle, save for one missing, gosh-darned piece.

Around 9-ish (because some of us run on more of a Brazilian concept of time), Jennigray (+ Arm Candy), Kelly, Lauren, and Meghan stopped by for a much needed, if short-lived, reunion. Stories of holiday travel woes, Grinch-like happenings, and home-visit hilarity were exchanged, garnering laughter, incredulity, and other colorful responses all around. It was good to squeeze the necks of my lovelies, even if I would have liked it to be a longer visit. Lauren even gave gifts all around, baggies and boxes filled with Christmas delights! Lauren is a Clemson grad now, leaving behind forever the hurry-scurry and sleepless nights of collegiate life. See ya later, 8am classes! Watch for that girl in the headlines--you'll be seeing her name, for sure.

Saturday, Andrew and I went up to Sumter, SC for Jordan and Michael's wedding. It was a pinky-out affair, complete with coat tails and floor length bridesmaids dresses--just lovely. Jordan was stunning, as always, and a perfect match to her handsome groom. We danced the night away with friends we hadn't seen in a coon's age, loving every minute of it. We met some new Alabama folks and kissed the cheeks of dear old friends. Andrew and I drove back to Charleston in the wee hours of the morning, reminiscing on our own wedding and the weddings of our friends. When all of these weddings taper off, we're all going to have to find some other excuse to get together. And if we're talking babies, I call "not it". I'm thinking beach house, Memorial Day weekend, everyone pitch in for food, drinks, sand, sun, and FUN! Yeah. Have your people call my people and we'll work it out.

So, we're back in the Chuck, leaning towards New Year's Eve and popping the cork on that bottle of bubbly. 2010 seems like it will be good to us. I'm resolving to resolve this year, not sure what about, though. There just always seems to be much room for amelioration--I could pick anything to improve upon, methinks. Either way, I stand resolute. So let it be written, so let it be done.

I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, soak up the last days of 2009 like a biscuit soppin' up red eye gravy. Mmm-mm. See y'all on the other side!

1 comment:

  1. Sweet MG. Good way to remember a GREAT Christmas!

    ReplyDelete