A Holiday Poem with Apologies to William Carlos Willams

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the Christmas cookies
that I baked
for you

and that
I intended to put
in your
mailbox

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so crunchy

Seasonal Joys

Mia's starry eyes fixed on the Goodman stage. Her whispering to me, "He said that!" when the Ghost of Christmas Present uses Scrooge's own words, "Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?" And Larry Yando whom Randy and I have enjoyed as Jafar in the CST's Aladdin and as Dr. Pangloss on this same stage in a Mary Zimmerman Candide, Larry Yando who was a delight in the lead, especially after Scrooge's conversion when he tries to fool Bob Cratchit by acting a cartoony version of his old grumpy self. He pounds the table and growls like an exaggerated bear, the glee bubbling up behind his pretense. I laughed, and cried, of course, at my favorite lines: "Father is so much kinder than he used to be!" and "God bless us, everyone!

Christmas cookies for the neighbors (sugar cookies with the girls wielding the cookie cutters; chocolate mudslide and Martha's fruit and nut cookies with pecans, macadamias, chopped apricots, dried cherries and coconut, yum!)

Teaching myself to play "Christmas Time is Here" on Mia's piano. And then later, sitting next to Mia at the computer, both of us staring at origami photos on the net and figuring out together how to fold a tiny paper piano to give to her piano teacher. I used the same site to find a pattern for a five-pointed star and taught Mia's classmates at the Christmas party on Friday. And they all did it! I love third graders.

The fresh perfume of paperwhites, a surreal touch of springtime in the gloom of short days. (Sometimes, around four in the afternoon, I'll look outside and wonder for a second, "Is this an eclipse?!" then remember, no, it's just winter.)

Nora showing us her new game, "Fwoggy DJ," by squatting like the world's cutest blond amphibian, then hopping in a spirited way that makes my middle-aged thighs and knees wince while she holds an invisible earphone to her ear with one hand and scratches an invisible turntable with the other.

Wearing mile-high hair to Randy's Christmas party, playing three games of pool and winning twice, even if they were sloppy wins (Ian the new assistant called a different pocket for the eight ball and Ian is an honorable man; Matt from marketing scratched on the eight), dancing like mad to Rhianna's new mournful-joyous song and many, many others.

I hope your happy season is also full of fun, friends and family!

Robyn's "Call Your Girlfriend"

Call me a teensy bit obsessed. Can't tell you what I love more, the forward moonwalk, the gawky pirouettes, the minor key, the giant shoes, the somersaults, the single take. There's even a little bit that reminds me of the Super Bowl Shuffle.

But I'm not alone. Here's a beautiful cover and here's a hilarious homage.

Such heartbreak in a synthy club song. Why not consider it a companion piece to Adele's "Someone Like You" (since I like to work Adele into almost everything) and imagine Robyn as the Other Woman?