Hello Darling Ones,

A voicemail from my Poor People’s insurance company just prompted me to burst into tears.

The message was about connecting me with Second Harvest Heartland in case I needed help securing food. The tears were a mix of gratitude that I don’t need that kind of help and sadness that so many do.

‘Tis the season, ya know.

After Minnesota Octobers and the Boys’ High School Hockey Tournament, Christmas is my favorite season. And the older I get, the more I love it.

In the past I did not have good Christmases. Poverty and an emotionally-volatile dad triggered by Christmas ruined many a holiday as a kid. It took me a long time to figure out I could make Christmas as magical or mundane as a I wanted. Even longer to realize the point is enjoying making the magic and not so much waiting for others to delight in the effort I put forth.

Since I have $0.00 to spend on Christmas this year, I’ve been working my fingers to the bone making all the gifts. Past, more financially-secure me was quite the yarn hoarder. Thanks, you money-wasting ding dong!

I’ve been diligently crocheting tiny owls, chickens, dinosaurs, and more as prizes for the A Very St. Martin Christmas races. This is a game I invented last year whereby my family each pick a wind-up toy to race across the coffee table. The winner of each heat gets to unwrap a prize or steal from someone else.

I told my cousin Billy this year will be even better than last year. I want tears, jealousy, and vows of revenge, I said. He pretended to be excited, because he loves me.

At some point after Christmas Jaycie & Max will get homemade sweaters. On Christmas they’ll get yarn and buttons and the choice of patterns.

I’ve been enjoying the hell out of my magic making time. I work listening to either The Cider House Rules or that new Snocaps record. At night I crochet while watching gameshows from the early 60s and laugh like a goon. Frankly, it’s delightful and seems to be enough to keep my mind off everything I could be anxious about (periodontist appointment (Fri), MRI (Wed), no income, and appointment with the neurologist(Jan).

ALSO, and most importantly, last night I learned that I’m the same age as The Grinch, which feels like vital information to know.

Banging the Gah-Ginker,
Jodi