Holiday Wrap-up

Oh, tiny fiber-optic tree, you are about to come down.

This was the holiday that didn't seem like much of a holiday to me.  That is why I forgot to call people on Christmas.  I worked that day and things weren't quite as I'd imagined.

Being Christmas, none of my three very challenging men at the group home had work that day.  They were all three home for the entire day.  I repeat, the entire day.  Being Christmas, the one woman who lives in the group home, in the other half of the duplex, didn't go to employment either.  But her parents wanted her to come visit and that meant that my co-worker had to drive her to Sheridan and stay during the visit and then drive back home.  Home, where I was alone with my three guys.  For the entire day.  OK.  An exaggeration.  I was alone with them until 11:40 when another co-worker came on shift, but her five-month-old daughter was with her so she was not able to hang out in the one half of the duplex for long.

Everyone opened their presents soon after I arrived at work.  Everyone needed help opening.  Most were excited except the man that I work with the most, and nothing but sunshine can excite him.  And coffee.  He got lots of coffee for Christmas, but unless it's steaming in a cup, it doesn't look like coffee to him.  So he never realized how happy and excited he should have been, though he will enjoy that coffee when I make it up for him.  After presents, and pictures, and candy for breakfast (dessert, really), the guys trooped back over to their side of the duplex and the woman and my co-worker left for Sheridan.  One of my guys, who resembles nothing more than a big, hibernating bear, went into hibernation in his recliner for the duration of the day, briefly waking for meals and to use the bathroom.  My guy who loves the sun, stood in his room in front of the heater and began to wait that long wait for sunny days to return.  And the youngest, most challenging man, the one given to yelling and outbursts and teasing and tormenting and wanting you to repeat EVERYTHING he says, was very much himself.  He'd started out the day trying to throw the lid to the toilet tank into the bathtub, which happened to have my grumpy sun-starved guy in it at the time.  Luckily, he missed, though the lid did, in fact, shatter.  And I was grateful that it didn't happen on my shift because we all would rather not have to write the incident reports, though we all get blessed with them on a regular basis.

So it was Christmas, though an odd Christmas for me.  I'd wanted to take the guys caroling.  Since you don't know these gentlemen, you can't possibly realize just how funny that is.  Trust me,  it's hysterical.  As would be any household we'd show up at to carol.  Or grunt, howl, run, pinch, and publicly disrobe.  Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

Kept the guys as happy and content as circumstances would allow.  Usually that means food.  Enjoyed visiting and working with my co-workers.  And I was really ready when 4:00 rolled around and I clocked out and went home.

I walked in the door to be greeted with, "Look at Louise's back.  Are those black things fleas?"  Then I heard, "And when I brushed Hedwig today it was like she was covered in pepper."  This is Christmas Day, folks.  Is this what you want to hear when you get home from work on Friday?  Is this what you want to hear on Christmas Day?  On the other hand, how do you feel about having fleas in your house?  By the way, bad head cold for Sam, and my nose plugged up and throat threatening me with soreness.  Christmas Day.  And right now, too, for that matter.  So I said, "Well, get on your shoes.  We're going to the store."

We drove to Wal-mart and the empty parking lot was the first clue.  Drove to Safeway and praise be!  Cars!  Clerks!  They were open!  Over-priced pet products!  But who cares?  We drove home to administer treatment/punishment.

The dogs didn't need anything.  They'd had flea crap applied to their backs about two or three days before and those black flecks Mick had asked me about were probably dead fleas.  He can bathe them in a day or two.  But the cats, our poor, strictly indoor cats had been fraternizing with the enemy, Hedwig much more than Hecate, and they had to be bathed.

I'd rather bathe all three pets in a row than have to bathe Hedwig at all.  The family victim, the one who always gets beat up on, pounced and trounced by all the others, suddenly becomes consumed with demonic energy at bath time.  Fueled by terror and claws.  So I told Mick he'd have to help me and, by God, definitely easier and definitely a two-person job. Why had I been doing this on my own?  And I have discovered that I use the word definitely far too often because now my only verbal guy at work, the one who wants you to repeat everything, is going around saying "definitely" and he's saying it all the time.

We had decided to have Christmas dinner on Saturday, the 26th, when I could be home all day and help.  I didn't help, but we did wait.  This, too, made Christmas not seem like Christmas.  That and work and flea baths.  Exhaustion, colds, the norm.

Christmas Eve is the night that we open gifts, so I guess I'm writing this in reverse chronological order.  Christmas Day sort of slid by and escaped me.  The cold, that keeps threatening me, is threatening me at present and the need to wrap this post up is pressing on me.

Also pressing, is my need to de-Christmasize the house and get all decorations put away.  I'm not a Scrooge by any means, but decorations left out too long quickly becoming a depressing reminder of sloth and procrastination.  Hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas and takes down their decorations before they become an eyesore.  More on the festivities later.