Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way.
The water from the tap gushed out. There were vessels to be washed, cakes to be baked, tinsel to be hung. One thing at a time, too many things at one time.
O what fun it is to ride on a one horse open sleigh.
Outside the weather was sweltering. The neighbours had gone off on a holiday and the street seemed empty without the laughing kids. Yesterday, carollers had stopped by, but there had been hardly anyone to greet them. Just she and her husband.
Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh
She busied herself with the christmas tree. It was old and tattered, missing many of the green needles. But she hung the tinsel, put up the ornaments and perched the little blue angel on top. Finally, she unravelled the cotton and started patting it on to the branches.
Over the fields we go, laughing all the way.
Her mother had called last evening. She had wanted to spend Christmas with the family. It wasn’t to be though. She heard the laughter, the warmth transmitting itself through the phone lines. Her mother chatted about inane things, christmas recipies, presents, that sort of thing.
Bells and Bobtails ring, making spirits bright.
The doorbell rang. There was still much to be done. She wondered who it was. The next in the long line for baksheesh, probably. The postman, milkman, security guard, lift operator, driver, maid servant…She got her purse out, it was the season of giving after all.
What fun it is to laugh and sing, a sleighing song tonight.
The sun set. People had gone by, presents had been bought, the tree was done, the dishes ready. It was the night before christmas. She sat with her husband and a bottle of wine. Nobody would come by anymore, nobody would call anymore. Gifts would be exchanged, people would kiss under the mistletoe, children would be waiting excitedly for santa claus. And she, in her enclosed castle of silence would be reaching for the bottle of wine, even as she pretended that her life was, indeed, perfect, that her husband did, indeed, love her and that the holidays were, indeed, happy.
(Jingle bells folks. The new year is coming up and I’m being unnecessarily maudlin. I blame it on PostSecret and this picture which I found there:
Holidays that are unbearably commercialized, holidays which bring about unreasonable expectations and the impending threat of the new year.
Hppy Holidys ya’ll)