To Regift

On the 12th Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to me, Twelve Drummers Drumming - the 12 doctrines of the Apostles Creed.

 re·gift

/rēˈɡift/

verb - to

 

give (a gift one has received) to someone else.

1.  

My definition is a bit different: the art and science of finding a new home for an unwanted, useless, hideous gift one received 

Not that I would ever do such a thing. But, I have heard that this is a practice of some people.

From what I have read, the ideal scenario is a scarf you received from Mary that you found atrocious. When you opened it, Mary commented, "When I saw it, I just knew it was you." You politely thank her. 

At the next gift giving occasion, when you need to find a gift for someone (a) you really don't care about or (b) you think would enjoy the gift, or (c) you know has no taste, you present the scarf. The problem arises when you show up for the party for Jennifer with your (re)gift and find Mary is there also. When Jennifer opens the gift, looks at it, and genuinely thanks you. You quickly look at Mary and say,"I loved the one you gave me so much, I thought Jennifer would love one also." All along you are hoping the scarf was not some "one of kind" Mary found on Etsy.

Over the years I have found myself with several such gifts. The question is - is this something that is useful for someone else (and useless for you), for an odd gift giving occasion when you do not want to make a financial investment in a gift, or (my favorite) for someone you despise. Not that that would ever occur.

By the way, I love the pink plastic Ronco battery operated onion peeler, lemon juicer, and Julianne french fry combination appliance I received this year. It is just what I wanted!

Three French Hens

I await my French Hens (it being the third day of Christmas).  Research says that the "Three" represents Faith, Hope, and Love".  But I digress.

However, no one ever stated in the song whether they were dressed and ready to be frozen or baked. Or, whether they were alive and kicking. Please, God, let they be the former. I do not need any more livestock. There was a reason I never got around to taking a class in slaughtering and dressing out a live bird.

In the song they never commented whether the hens were moving about or in a dish. Funny, references to some of the other fowl was more explicit. The Geese were laying. Those very expensive Swans were swimming. And that Partridge was always in the Pear Tree. Come to think of it, out of the 74 gifts, 23 are fowl (well actually 28 if you count the Five Golden Rings as Ring-neck Gold Finches which was the original intent.)

I guess I best not hold my breath since neither the Partridge, the Pear, nor the Turtle Doves have showed up yet. Perhaps I should not count my French Hens before they arrive - alive, baked, broiled, or fried.

Two Turtles Doves and All the Mess Left Over

Well, it's all over, Christmas Day that is. The Elf on the shelf has returned to the North Pole for 11 months. (Lots of help is.)  The 'fridge is full of leftovers - which is an issue, given most of us have sworn to start a serious diet immediately. Well, at least starting January 1. All the exquisite dark chocolate candy that calls to you like a siren saying "Enjoy it ALL now because the reality of calories is coming quickly".

The den is littered with discarded ribbons and paper, unless you were anal and collected paper as it was torn from packages in the excitement of Christmas morning. There is the stack of boxes on the side table of gifts that did not make the cut:  the pants that are too tight (thank you Aunt Mary for thinking I wore a smaller size), the sweater in that God Awful green (that your cousin Jan explained was going to be "the" green for the spring), and that "As Seen on TV" gadget that supposedly organizes the dashboard of your car. And, of course, there is that bottle of perfume someone, you cannot remember who, gave you. 

There is also the piece of the puzzle that was lost in the excitement of Christmas morning, that you hope did not get thrown out with the paper. Under the tree are the 2 sad looking presents you have yet get to their recipients. 

All in all another one is in the books. Now there are 5 days or so of Christmas purgatory. You wonder what possessed you to put up all these damn decorations. Note to self: next year remember minimalism is much better. And the ever present decision: when does the tree come down? You are torn between "immediately" and "How long can I wait before tackling that project". The thought crosses your mind, "What would happen if I just threw the whole thing out, lights, tinsel, glass balls, and all?" It is very tempting.

A belated Joyeux Noël to all.