Christmassy things

 The other big chore of Christmas is the annual missive. I will die as a firm proponent of the annual family letter. I get so annoyed by folks who send just a photo with nothing more. I mean, yes, I'll take your photo and enjoy seeing your face, but I want to know what's going on! More than the FB soundbite here or there that I see.

It used to be that Christmas was the one time a year I could count on actual mail. Lately it's a barrage of picture postcards with no content.

But whatever. At least there are smiling faces.

Ours is written and printed (and wasn't printing just an exercise in hilarity? Our old printer had been giving up the ghost for probably the last 8 months -- the point of needing to print three, four, five copies in hopes of one being legible. We finally pulled the trigger on a new one. But it was a day too early, apparently, as it went on sale the next day. No worries, we thought, we'll just explain and get them to price match since we're clearly within their policy. Except oh no, the policy is changed during Christmas sales. So we boxed it back up to return and rebuy and only when they realized we were serious was the $200 difference refunded. But honestly.)

Printing the envelopes ended up being printing mailing labels because my ancient version of Word and the new fangled printer with a touch screen that thinks it's smarter than me couldn't agree that I was, in fact, putting envelopes in as the paper and that I had told it such. Whatever. I can make it work.

I could have even - gasp - hand written the addresses. But doing that many makes my hand hurt just thinking of it, so I'm grateful enough that it didn't come to that.

I put the labels on the envelopes today. But honestly, I'm so overwhelmed with life that it ate up all my oomph. So there's time and I'll get around to personal notes, stuffing, and stamps one of these days. But today is not that day. 

Spent the afternoon yesterday helping my sister at her place with things that she's too tired to do. We also trekked to her bank and got me added as a joint owner on her accounts so I have access when it comes that time. And I can't help thinking that I'm too young -- as is she -- to have to be planning for such things. But then, I tell my children fair isn't actually a thing, so it's not super reasonable to whine about it myself.

Anyway. One foot keeps going in front of the other, and I suppose that some days it's okay for that to be all there is.