Wrapping up.

So, we leave 2011 behind in just a few hours. I don't tend to be nostalgic for the passing year, so I will not post about what I liked in 2011 and what I didn't like, or what resolutions I had and didn't keep or that I had and did keep, etc., etc. Let's just catch up on how 2011 ended, which was with a nice holiday bang.

The Christmas holiday for me and Doug now goes like this:

We wake up somewhat early on Christmas Eve morning and get ready for our Connecticut Christmas. Once everything is packed up and the cats are fed and watered, we spend some time around our tree and exchange the gifts we got each other. This is one of my favorite parts of the holiday, because it's the one I'm most awake for. I haven't yet stuffed myself silly with any of the holiday goodies that await down I-84. Plus, I like watching Doug open the gifts that I get him. I try to put thought into what he gets, for at least one of his gifts. He has stand-bys, like socks, t-shirts, underwear, and also sweaters, but I like to throw in at least one "surprise." This year it was Slowhand on vinyl.

With the new furniture arrangement (couch downstairs in basement along with TV, and record player set up in living room where TV was), we have been listening to our record player like we never have before. As a matter of fact, before we moved the couch and TV downstairs to the basement we were trying to sell the record player. We didn't think that we liked it (too much like a DJ turntable), not to mention the fact that we never listened to it. But now we listen to it quite regularly and are amassing quite the collection of classic rock albums, which sound fantastic on vinyl. Slowhand is the poster-child for this. We heard my father's copy of this album at my uncle's house in New Hampshire this past Labor Day weekend and it had such a great sound on vinyl. Doug is normally not an Eric Clapton fan, but the vinyl won him over. He talked often of the quality of that album since we heard it in New Hampshire, so I tracked down a copy. Slowly but surely we are creating for ourselves a nice library of Eric Clapton albums and are really enjoying what we are hearing.

Okay, so I surprise Doug with at least one gift that requires a little thought and creativity on my part, and Doug does the same for me. This year it was a necklace. Good job, Doug!

Once we open our gifts and give the cats one last pat good-bye, we pile in the car with all of our Christmas CDs and make the drive down to CT. This awaits us chez Sisko:

As does this:

And this:

We never forget to sing "Happy Birthday" to Doug. This year his birthday cake was a carrot cake. Whatever bakery the Siskos go to down there in Fairfield County certainly does cakes well. This cake was so moist and not sweet at all. Which reminds me - we still have some in our refrigerator. Yay! Cake tonight after Doug's homemade meatballs.

Anyway, once we celebrate well with the Siskos we head an hour north and visit with the Sheridans. This year my father, my aunt Mary, her husband Fred, and Doug jammed on their acoustics. I think that this was the first year that Doug played with them. I'm glad he did - they sounded good, and I think that the older folk are excited to play with Doug. He's in a band, after all. He's Doug Sisko, Guitar Guy. Rocker. Cool City Dude. All very impressive.

Once the family jam was over, which just may become a new Sheridan Christmas tradition, we headed over to my parents' house to spend the rest of the evening around their Christmas tree exchanging gifts with my mother, father and brother. My brother is notoriously difficult to buy for, so much so that it is a topic of conversation between me and just about every member of my immediate family in the weeks leading up to Christmas. What to get for Brian? We never have any idea. He already has his New Yorker subscription. He really doesn't need or want anything else. Really. So for the past few years I've been getting him artsy-type gifts. One year was a set of ceramic owls. One year was a Monet doll standing at an easel. This year I decided to make him a stupid sock creature (see previous post), and I think he liked it.

Then, once we all start to fall asleep on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper bits, we call it a night. Doug and I make our way back to Massachusetts the day after Christmas and get back to our regular routines. The holidays are essentially over. We tend not to do anything too thrilling for New Year's, mostly because we are tired from all the birthday and Christmas activities in December. This year is no exception. We got a bottle of champagne for Christmas so we decided to stay in and have some of it. Doug's making some meatballs, we'll cook up some cocktail weenies, we'll sit on our couch and reflect on the year that's ending and talk about things to look forward to in the new year, and, if we are lucky enough to be awake, will clink our (champagne) glasses at midnight. Sounds truly wonderful to me. I smell the meatballs cooking now. It just may be time to go out and pop that cork early!