No Place Like Home

Karen Wight

Are you crazed yet? I am. And from where I’m sitting, there’s no light

at the end of this tunnel. In fact, there may be some serious

simplification in our program this year.

Now, I’ve read all of the make-your-life-easier books: “Simple

Abundance,” “The Art of Doing Nothing” and “Confessions of a Happily

Organized Household.” I have a subscription to Real Simple magazine. But

none of that seems to apply to the holidays.

I am my own worst enemy when it comes to Christmas. I like it all. But

liking it all means doing it all.

This year, I was going to forego the annual family photo card and

yearly update, but guilt got the better part of me. I love receiving

Christmas cards; it’s one of my favorite parts of the season. But somehow

getting the picture taken, the cards made, the envelopes hand addressed

(it’s that Southern guilt again: No labels for personal correspondence),

and making sure I’ve added this year’s set of teachers, all the changed

addresses and new acquaintances is a big job.

Oh, yes. And to make myself even crazier, I usually send a Christmas

letter. I used to write a note on every card, but as the kids got older,

there was just too much to say. So I did acquiesce on that point of

propriety and now send a copied letter along with the cards.

Let it be known that I did rally on this issue. Letter written. Cards

in the mail. Whew.

After the cards are out, I usually start on the house. So far, I’m in

analysis paralysis.

After 43 years, I have discovered that if you get something out,

sooner or later you’ll have to put it away. I hate that part. In other

words, the house is not looking too festive yet. I did run to the nursery

to buy a few amaryllis and orchids, but those die eventually and I get to

throw them away not put them away. This year, that’s my kind of

decorating.

I think my mood has transferred to the husband. He announced last

weekend that he isn’t putting up the Christmas lights. This is very

unusual for Ben.

He is great with the lights, and basically, besides dragging the tree

into and out of the house, it’s his only holiday responsibility.

Maybe it was the huge electric bill we got last month. Maybe it’s all

the other demands on his time, but the Wight House may be dark this year.

The semi-grotesque monetary consumption for gifts is basically done,

but I haven’t wrapped a single present so far. There are a few packages

that need to be mailed to out-of-state family members. I’d better get

busy with those, but somehow wrapping, boxing and standing in line to

send them out leaves me feeling lethargic.

I could move on to the food portion of the holiday, namely cookies. My

recipe box is overflowing with great cookie and goodie recipes. When I

was a little girl, my grandmother would send us a care package of sweets

every December.

She and my great-grandmother spent days in the kitchen making dozens

of varieties of cookies and candy. Maybe that’s where I got my wicked

sweet tooth. Chocolate crinkles, peanut butter balls, oatmeal raisin

bars, chocolate-chip cookies, divinity, fudge, peanut brittle, bourbon

balls and fruitcake. It was an instant five-pound weight gain, but it was

worth every bite.

Cookie-making may go on the endangered list this year.

Entertaining. Love it, but when you have a party during the holidays,

those darn guests expect holiday decorations. Some of those activities

might go on the “optional” list as well.

Christmas Day with the extended family is mandatory. Since I have the

only kids on my side of the family, I have convinced everyone that coming

to my house is the only option. But this means cooking. Our traditional

family meal on Christmas is curry and all the condiments. My grandparents

lived in Egypt and South Africa for many years, and they adopted an

exotic curry recipe as their “new” family tradition. We have carried it

on as ours, because too much turkey is just too much turkey.

OK, I can’t beg off on that one. Let there be curry on Dec. 25.

So this year I’m going to pick and choose where my energy is going to

go. Christmas at the Wight House may look abundantly simple. Less may be

more this year. This December, instead of looking like Santa’s Workshop,

we’ll be looking more like the Zen Den. Ohm.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs Sundays.