The Minnesota Farm Woman

Some holidays are better than others. We have a small family, and our Christmases, past and present,  are a lot of fun but celebrated in a low-key and quiet way. Being the predictable family that we are, we can rest assured that our future holiday celebrations will probably be the same. It is nice to visit the Christmas traditions of others, though, if for no other reason than to celebrate the joyous holiday and gain a  new appreciation of your own family. One of our most memorable holidays comes to mind, from a Christmas of long ago:  Our only child had been invited to spend Christmas Eve with her boyfriend’s family, first at an elaborate Italian feast and then attending midnight mass. Since we had no family living close by and needed something to do,  we were invited to a friend’s house for dinner. HE really preferred a quiet evening at home and said as much, but I was feeling our empty nest and needed a little Christmas cheer.  I volunteered to make my special Minnesota wild rice hotdish that was a tradition in our family and promised HIM we wouldn’t stay long. We arrived right on time, and my friend answered the door with a panicked look on her face. She was not ready. The Christmas tree looked great, though. It had to be eight feet tall with so many twinkling lights that I’m sure the electric meter was spinning like a top. Her husband had perhaps sampled the Christmas punch a few too many times, because he had a lopsided silly grin on his face and had somehow forgotton to replace all the couch cushions that he had vacuumed under in a feeble attempt to get rid of the cat hair from their five indoor felines, who were (thankfully) nowhere to be seen. The table was set beautifully for a holiday feast. Since her hubby had also forgotton to peel the potatoes, I rolled up my sleeves  and started in, because that’s what friends are for. My own  beloved hubby gave me the first of many looks that I would receive that night. I know you married folks know THE LOOK well…the one that says, “time to go”, but since the fun was just beginning, I pretended not to see.  The guests were as varied as the ornanents on that lovely tree: Her daughter, son-in-law,  and their four children, three of whom had been eating sugary Christmas goodies all day and were bouncing off the walls…and the furniture. Mr. Punch Drinker started tossing presents to them right and left and there was a cacophony of  squeals, tearing paper, and flying couch cushions. At one point, the tree was close to toppling. They blamed the near-disaster on the kids, but I’m fairly certain it was a cat or two, trying to stay out of the way. As a side note, the mother of this crew was dressed in a fairy princess gown, complete with a jewel-encrusted  tiara. She dropped off the kids and came back with her friends, one of whom had been in an unfortunate accident and was wearing a halo brace to protect his head and neck. Despite wearing a halo, he was no Christmas angel.  He couldn’t stand, so they put him in the recliner in a supine position, which took up much of the living room.  He started in on the Christmas punch immediately, using a straw.  His wife, who appeared to be in better shape than he was,  had been smuggled out of the local hospital and arrived wearing her hospital gown and robe,  along with a functioning (and beeping) IV pump on a rolling pole. I wondered to myself how a person dressed like a Disney princess could possibly  sneak a patient and a beeping IV pump past hospital security on Christmas Eve, but maybe I tend to overthink things. Another friend,  who was supposed to supply the dessert, arrived with one pie for fifteen guests, a can of sprayable whipped cream, and a whole bunch of whipped cream stories not appropriate for mixed company.  Another relative arrived, this one dressed in a three-piece suit, gaudy gold jewelry, and topped off with a fedora hat, which was never removed. In this family-friendly story, I cannot tell you what I think he looked like, but I can say that I am almost certain  he was coming down with the flu, as he kept wiping his nose with his hand and reaching for the sliced turkey with his fingers. I did tell my friend, and when she didn’t remove it from the buffet line, I whispered to HIM to not take any turkey. HE whispered back that it was REALLY time to go. I pretended not to hear. The Pie Lady interrupted her bawdy stories, some of which she claimed to be true, to inform me that I should fix that @#%!$ beeping IV pump since I was a nurse and should know these things.  When I told her that I wasn’t comfortable taking care of the life-saving medicine that was being pumped through a  stolen IV pump and into the vein of a person who was SUPPOSED TO BE UNDER CONSTANT MEDICAL SUPERVISION from the same hospital that employed me, she took care of it herself.  Good Lord. I finally convinced Princess Tiara to drive her back to the hospital and to take Halo Guy along for the ride.  Out of both patience and Christmas cheer,  HE finally just put on his coat and waited for me by the door. As we said our goodbyes, my friend gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “You’re never coming over for another Christmas with us, are you?” I hugged her back and whispered, “Nope.”