Festivus

The festival for the rest of us. One of the few really great ideas to come out of a show I almost never watched. Actually, I watched one episode about three times, as so often happened with broadcast tv, nothing on, you watch a show with minimal appeal, and it's the same episode as the last time you were in that situation. But that phrase, oh, I do love and use.

I suspect I'll be using another one this week at work, from the same source. "Not that there's anything wrong with that!" They did have a touch for the catchphrase.

Saturday was lovely. Outside to clear a bit of snow, but not a lot. We met D's parents for a really good lunch, and together wandered the winter market. Opportunity to congratulate our first gay married couple in the state, and buy nice tea from them. Came home and ate cranberry potato bread and lounged. Shared rotisserie chicken with the cats, which they very much appreciated.

Sure felt like christmas. Festivus, at any rate.

The Cafe Rio Grande (in the old train station) is our idea of comfort food, southwest style. D's parents as well, who are from Texas and California originally. Me, just from the Mexican enclave of Detroit, now formally called Mexicantown. Went to school with kids whose parents came from Mexico generations before mine came from Ireland or Belgium - then through Canada, emigrating to the US only in my parents'. So, by some strange osmosis, I consider burritos and chiles rellenos to be comfort food. I certainly never ate them as a kid.

We made pizza for lunch today, D with yellow peppers and olives, green onions, tomatoes, me with the fried mushrooms. Enjoying getting the dough from TJs, spicy marinara, smoked mozzarella, and making it ourselves. Restoreth the soul.

So, whatever Wednesday is, I feel I've had my solstice celebration with the people I love. The rest is the Yuletide, ebbing out.

That simple.


Watching, again, The Vanishing of Pato. So funny, and I know I'm missing a lot of subtext, but the charm works on me.