Spilling the Gravy

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Time to settle down and celebrate the happy memories. Listen to old time holiday classics, watch special Christmas episodes of old shows on free television. The kids will be getting into bed early, right about now, eager to wake up for presents under the tree in the morning. I remember those days. I always knew that mom had hid the presents in her room but I liked to go along with the thought that a man somehow got into our house (no chimney, or chimbley as I said at three years old) and put a bunch of gifts under the tree, somehow knowing all of our names. The gifts under the tree this year have already been unwrapped because of two out-of-staters coming in to celebrate the holidays with us before they leave again. Another “Christmas” will be held on January 13th with more gifts.

Tonight, I went to a midnight nativity mass. First time going to church in years and I felt a spiritual uplifting, a re-connection with my faith. The last time I went to the church where this special mass was held, the priest fainted and had to be taken away in an ambulance. A replacement, intern priest if you will, took over for the rest of mass.

My holiday took a funny twist this past evening.

It all started with the making of fresh home made egg nog (from an Alton Brown recipe online). I could have made it myself without the recipe’s help but then I’d risk messing up or forgetting something.

It’s a really simple recipe: 4 egg whites and egg yolks separated, heavy cream, nutmeg, milk, and sugar. Mix that all into a bowl and there you go. A shot of brandy or bourbon gives it an extra kick.

When I went to put the milk carton of egg nog in the tiny fridge to chill, I accidentally knocked over the can of gravy from Thanksgiving sitting in there. It spilt all over the right leg of my pants and my reaction was obviously one of disgust. When the rest of the family saw it, they cracked up. I was walking stiff legged though the kitchen to my room and had to change my pants. The whole floor was a slippery mess of gravy and knocked over cat food.

Three years later…

Just got home from that new job I’ve acquired as a computer specialist or something technology related. My new apartment looks and smells wonderful. I go over to my comfortable looking couch (the only piece of furniture) in front of the large screen television and pick up my brand new Apple Macbook, because it was now or never to make the switch. Time to write another blog post for Macbofisbil on a Macbook, how fitting.

What am I writing about? That largely depends on what has transpired during those three years from now. 2018 will be the third year of whatever president is currently in office. If it’s Donald Trump, there might be a post about how healthcare for the poor has been stripped away and how everything favors the rich now. If it’s Hillary Clinton, then advancements in getting every child an education and helping students get into college will be discussed.

This blog will still likely be rooted to the Daily Prompts because they are an excellent base for ideas and connecting with bloggers I’m following and haven’t checked out yet. I’ll be more experienced in writing poetry, an absolute favorite writing style of mine, and I hope to continue making it a consistent component of my blog.

Into the future 

The lights and sounds may have changed

But I am still me

The song “Black Water” by Doobie Brothers (obviously referencing marijuana) came to my head last night as I was scrolling through past posts of mine and catching up on a load of comments left by a blogger who seems to be a big fan of mine. While responding, I was thinking about the future of this blog and what I want to do to keep it fresh and active. I decided to post the song here because it is so fitting for a song about moving on with life and keeping hope alive.

Daily Prompt: Ebb and Flow 

Our blogs morph over time, as interests shift and life happens. Write a post for your blog — but three years in the future.