"Every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."

Merry Christmas Eve, unless you’re a pre‑ghost Scrooge like me and pretending the holiday doesn’t exist.
Cowboy is at work, Peacock is home with his little family, Raven is with his kids at his former partner’s place, and Heron is at his girlfriend’s.
Trust me, this is no holiday.

The weather isn’t even cooperating.
 It was seventy degrees today. 
Not our warmest Christmas Eve, though. 
That came in 1964 at seventy‑three degrees. 
We were close to tying or beating a record.

I have nothing to write.
We went to town, I picked up the money I forgot, and grabbed some pies for dinner tomorrow. 
Why the heck not? 
Life is short. 
That padding around my waist will still be there when I’m six feet under. 
I went on a great eggnog hunt. 
The dummies start stocking it in stores around September, and here it is Christmas Eve and I couldn’t find any
I finally ended up at Weigel’s, a gas station convenience store.
 I wasn’t the only one desperate, either. 
When I checked out, the cashier hollered to the other cashier, “That’s another eggnog for me.” 
As I was getting it out of the cooler, a man nearly bowled me over grabbing for a jug. 
His pregnant wife was craving it, and he couldn’t find any anywhere.

We came home and Badger reheated the casserole, so we actually had a good dinner instead of fast food.
 I finished the money cards and tossed Heron’s gifts into a bag. 
He handed me presents for Raven’s kids in a store bag and told me to hand them out, but I thought it would be more fun to put everything in gift bags.
 I put together a tiny bag for Gealach and the kids. 
I didn’t go all out for Raven’s kids. 
They got a box of M&M’s because I wanted something physical to go with the money. 
After the Easter bag incident, I refuse to spend much on Raven’s kids. 
As Cowboy says, it wasn’t the kids’ fault, it was entirely Raven and the other parent, but I’m not throwing money in the trash anymore. 
Gealach’s mom isn’t difficult, flat truth, so she got more than Raven’s. 
Fair or unfair, that’s how it is. 
I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like chocolate, unless I’m confusing her with another child. 
So I skipped the chocolate and got her a ring pop from the movie “Wicked” because she’s a theater geek now, plus a very cheap charm bracelet and some lip gloss.

I chased Cowboy down at the chicken coop and had him go in the RV and turn off Heron’s pilot light on his heater. 
As it is supposed to be a very warm night, I propped the door open and I'm letting his cats have access to the catio. 
There is no reason to lock them up in the RV, and now watch one of them dig their way out tonight. 
Or worse, something dig its way in and eat them. 
Hey, I’m responsible for those cats when Heron is gone.

Time for Cowboy to head to work came fast today. 
Since school is on break, Badger and I walked down to the cemetery and then decided to head toward the creek, but we had to come back to put the cats in the laundry room. 
We don’t leave them out when Raven is home, and he didn’t go to the other parent’s place until late, around six. 
Once the cats were safe, we went back to the creek to sit for a bit, but we forgot it was Wednesday and the Methodists were having church. 
So we sat over at the Presbyterian church instead and watched the horse munch his dinner.

We came home, made a pizza, had cookies and eggnog, and watched Christmas movies all night. 
It’s just not Christmas until we watch “The Muppets Christmas Carol.”

It’s getting late, so I guess we should head to bed, even though there’s nothing to do tomorrow and no real reason to go to bed at all.