It’s Christmastime in the city

 

Lovely evening tonight. Jean picked me up and we went to Trinity Terrace, the high-rise retirement community where she lives. In the formal dining room, we met longtime special friend, Jeannie Chaffee, and the three of us gabbed and gossiped hrough dinner, covering everything from TCU’s football record to Harry and Meghan’s documentary. Nice that we are all pretty much on the same page on these subjects—TCU priorities are out of whack for a university and higher echelons salaries are an embarrassment compared to faculty and staff salaries at all levels. Meghan and Harry should be ashamed of themselves for dishing on the monarchy—they seem to want the privileges without the obligations, and they need to be told firmly they can’t have it both ways. Telling dirty secrets is really low life.

I had Caesar salad with salmon for supper—we haven’t had salads lately at home, for whatever reason. Perhaps we are all busy, perhaps there’s always a catastrophe, like the leaning Christmas tree, but I was all set for a huge salad tonight—and that’s what I had. Enough in the fridge for my lunch tomorrow.

After supper, Jean drove me on a tour of Christmas lights. We went through my neighborhood where displays were spotty—there were some over-the-top displays, some totally dark houses, and some sort of halfway efforts. I pointed out to Jean that we have some elderly residents who have lived here for decades and are now probably without the energy to string lights. I remember past years when the lights were more uniform and much more imaginative—or am I just getting old and letting nostalgia distort my memory? Proud to say that Christian’s efforts on our house are the best and stand out on a mostly dark street. (Plus tonight when I came home, I saw that he had covered some of the plants, including my herb garden).

But the prize for spectacular light displays goes to Cook Children’s Hospital with the most lavish lighting I’ve seen—trees are bathed in rotating red, green, and gold, teddy bears and rabbits and hobby horses sparkle with lights, and Santa himself is there with a pair of the oddest spectacles. The display covers the roundabout in front of the hospital and one block to the west of the main building. There is seating (if you’re brave enough in these chilly temperatures) and stations that offer photo ops. It’s extravagant, gorgeous, beyond imagining, and it really brings out the Christmas spirit, almost making me, still coughing and never able to carry a tune, want to break out in a Christmas carol

Thanks to Jean for a lovely evening, and a chance to get out of the cottage before the arctic blast hits.

Even Christmas displays bring out the worst. There’s a camera shot of the scum who stole the Baby Jesus from a nativity scene in Sundance Square downtown. The camera even caught him handing the baby off to a cohort, and then they disappeared in a vehicle, also caught on camera. They apparently haven’t been caught, but what in heaven’s name do they intend to do with the (probably plastic) Baby Jesus? I doubt ransom is a possibility. And then there was an ad for over-size all-white nativity scene figures made of interlocking pieces, so you just snap them together. Somehow that strikes me as crassly commercial.

Meanwhile, our resident big coyote must be feeling the Berkeley spirit. He was back today, boldly napping in the same yard where he was caught on camera a couple of days ago. I applaud the homeowner who said she doesn’t want to cause his demise but does wish Fort Worth Animal Control would trap him and take him for a good long ride. I lamented in a small online group that I didn’t know what I’d do if a coyote attacked Sophie in the night, and a friend suggested an airhorn but said she guessed I couldn’t do that in the city. Of course I can if necessary to save my dog’s life—I just need the air horn. Her second suggestion was a wooden spoon and a pot—when I tried that tonight, Sophie came running as though offered a treat.

The weather forecast is grim, starting at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Temperatures may get as low as 10^o F. Even though it was in the fifties tonight, the forecasts had us all thinking cold and bundling up. When we came out of Trinity Terrace tonight, we did note that the wind had picked up—it’s supposed to be strong for the next three days, driving the chill factor even lower. Texans remember shivering through the power outages of 2021 amid the horrifically cold temps, and we are on alert to see if the grid will hold.

I for one plan to stay in the cottage, as safe and warm as I can be. And it’s not just Texas—the cold is to hit all over the country except, as one friend pointed out, southern California where she expects temperatures in the seventies. The rest of you stay warm and safe.