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Holiday dessert: eat it first
There are many days I wish I could trade places with Bob Marley, A #1 farm dog. I think of him as the Jodi Foster to my mother figure role (Mother Of All Anarchy), though on my Freaky Friday I’d find myself chasing and eating rabbits rather than playing field hockey. Bob Marley would take advantage of his new thumbs to go through all the ice cream in the joint. We would both get a fine holiday dessert, his a stupefying calorie count, mine a chance to shed all my responsibilities and my clothes, and spend the day doing exactly what I want, namely, lolling in the sun.
To hell with striving to be clever, struggling to produce the best farm-to-mouth holiday desserts, or coming up with new ways to present and enjoy vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream, coffee ice cream, and on and on and on. Let the Sisters sort it out. Let them worry about customer options for Thanksgiving dessert, Christmas dessert, or what pie goes best with Chaste Anne. Yes, that is exactly the kind of holiday dessert I deserve.
We are approaching the most comfortable, most cozy, most introspective holidays of the year. A time at which I typically thrill to wrap myself up in family and friends, eat far too much of the very holiday desserts – chocolate ice cream, coffee ice cream, vanilla ice cream, etc. – that I’m whining about above, and drink coffee while watching Farmer Bob out my office window, slogging about the windswept barns and fields. Like the previous seven years, he’s racing the winter to put the farm to sleep. I usually get great pleasure from watching him suffer in the cold, because I know he secretly loves this stuff (it connects him with his family mythology, sprinkled with not a few “man’s man” types, and the thought of his ancestors giving him an attaboy keeps his motor running). Knowing this about him keeps my motor running too. And I most definitely need this kind of boost in the year of COVID.
Seriously, how do we enjoy Thanksgiving when we can’t visit aunts, uncles, cousins? What do we do with Christmas break when we largely can’t go anywhere? Can’t visit grandparents, can’t host a Christmas party with friends? Sure, we can send mail order ice cream, providing them their own vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream, coffee ice cream, and pints of another 20 flavors, but it’s not the same when you share pints over a zoom call. I’m going to miss fighting over the spoon. But I’m not going to miss this year, or miss the suffering and destruction, both down the street and around the world. No, not one little bit.
So here’s to long life and better days. Eat your dessert first, ‘cause you never know what might happen.