Once again I'm up while everyone else is abed, which suits me fine. Waiting for coffee to make, considering the day, which I'll largely expend in cooking. In fact, I have a big sheet pan of cornbread cooking now, because that's what I could think of to feed 8-10 people for breakfast, as a change from baked oatmeal. Molasses, butter, jam, honey . . . bingo. I've really got to think about lunches --- grilled cheese is my main idea, because I have bread and cheese. Yesterday I sent everybody out on their own recognizance, but today I really should make lunch for at least my mother and brother . . .
Otherwise, we have been to Mass for Advent Four and will go again late tonight for Christmas. There is something especially nice and a little decadent about hanging around drinking coffee on Sunday morning, knowing that there's nowhere you have to be, because you've already been there. Presents are wrapped and under the tree. I presume that people have amassed their stocking stuffers --- my plan is to get up early tomorrow to finish them off with sweets, oranges, and whatever tiny things I manage to scrape together out of what's lying around the house. Girls are easy: I have little stuff lying around that I can readily poke into stockings. Men are harder, but I'll discover something before the day is out (read: I've found a couple of Euro coins hanging around, and where two or three are gathered, there's bound to be more of the same).
The sun is shining, and it's bound to warm up to a pleasant day. I think tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, but that's all right. Nobody is going anywhere on Christmas Day. Meanwhile, I hope to get in a reasonably substantial walk while the sun does shine.
As soon as this cornbread comes out of the oven, I think I'll pop myself in the bath before other people get up and want hot water, and give my hair a quick wash and my form a quick scrub. Then I'll be ready for whatever comes next.
A LITTLE LATER:
Wearing:
Once again trying not to tie up the bathroom, so here's a rather cluttered kitchen selfie instead.
*Not Perfect Linen Leila dress (M/L, modified to raise the shoulders) in chocolate brown
*Very old thrifted Eddie Bauer cotton cardigan
*Snag merino tights in Crocodile
*Xero Tari boots
Wet hair, because see above about not tying up the bathroom.
I could finish this outfit with a scarf, but as I'm going to be cooking a lot, that didn't seem really practical. It's going to be a warmish day, so linen felt like a good choice. I can switch out this purple cardigan later for a red one, or for my green blazer, whichever I decide I prefer, and add a scarf for more polish. I'll probably put on either tall boots or my Birk Papillios as well for dinner and Mass.
But for the day, this will do.
A merry Christmas Eve to all!
MID-AFTERNOON UPDATE:
In a lull.
*Breakfast casserole for tomorrow is made.
*Bread pudding for tomorrow night's dessert is in the oven now.
*My mother has gone back to take a rest.
*My brother and all the progeny have gone hiking.
*The husband has gone to the grocery store for me (one last time, I HOPE).
So I'm sitting down.
Here's a better picture of what I'm wearing today, too.
I switched out my Tari boots for Birk Madeiras, and my hair is dry, but otherwise this is what I put on when I arose from my bath this morning. I haven't added any layers to go outside --- it's about 63F, lovely and sunny, and I was comfortable walking the dog in just this light cardigan and my linen dress.
Feeling all pinked up from the fresh air outside, but also from standing over the stove.
Hoping you're all surviving the cooking and other bustle of this day!
PS: While I'm sitting here quietly, scrolling through Instagram since I don't have to be present to any other person at this moment, I'm thinking about this set of wardrobe goals I stumbled across in my scrolling. Like the original poster, I too had a no-buy year in 2022 --- which was moderately successful, though not on any kind of literal level. Still . . . I can relate to using 2023 as a binge year. Binge is exactly what I did, which I think is a pretty natural reaction to an extreme fast (even with little breaks). This is what happens in dieting, after all. You restrict yourself sternly: calories, carbs, food groups, whatever. But you can't keep it up. At some point you simply are going to blow it, and the more you've restricted yourself, the more spectacularly you're going to blow it. (Caveat: IF YOU'RE ME, this is how it's going to play out)
So I have mixed feelings about this restriction business. Even when you pose something like a no-buy as a challenge (and I do like a good challenge), at some point it just starts to feel like a diet --- and that's precisely the point when the cravings kick in. And you have a choice: either white-knuckle it through the cravings, or give in to them and then feel guilty and beat yourself up because your white knuckles were weaker than the cravings.
On the other hand . . . it is true that self-regulation absent some rule is difficult. It's maybe especially true for those of us with dopamine-seeking ADHD brains, but really it's difficult for anybody, mostly because --- unlike food --- clothes don't send an automatic "full" signal. Unlike calorie counts, there's no hard and fast clothing number that says, This is enough for your body. And unlike, say, Turkish delight, clothes don't satiate you to the point of sickness. There's really no such thing as "too much," until you start to run out of space. There's no good objective answer to the eternal question: Why should I not buy this thing? I mean, there's ONE good objective answer, which is Because you don't have any money, that's why. But if you do have money (and if it's also not Lent and you have not given up clothes-buying specifically for Lent), you really don't have a reason to say no. All that makes self-regulation that much harder.
For this I have no good solution. I'm still figuring it out. And the only resolution I'm making is not to make resolutions.
Aha, the husband is home with the next ground of groceries. Saved from my own clothing thoughts!