“I already had my Christmas up to Maryland with the fambly coupla weeks ago,” my neighbor Henk told me. “Today’s just another day.”

Even the most traditional family has trouble getting everyone together at holiday time. My daughter and her husband have just one set of in-laws and one set of out-laws but her mom is in North Puffin, I’m in South Puffin, her brother lives an hour away, his brothers are scattered across a couple of states and his folks live down in Vermont’s Banana Belt…

I missed Thanksgiving at my daughter’s house because I was in South Puffin where Nancy and I had our first-ever holiday together (it was grand). We did have the traditional Thanksgiving dinner (a small turkey with stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, smashed potatoes and gravy, and pumpkin pie for dessert). And we were together. We also had a visit to the Fakahatchee Strand, a search for the herd wranglers on Auto Ranch Road, and we lolled and beached and ‘puted and played with toys.

And today is Christmas.

“Save me, because they’re caroling in the meeting room next to my office,” Nancy texted to me on Friday.

It’s not just another day.

Oh, sure, there are carolers belting out Porky Pig tunes and Grandma is cowering under her bed if she knows what’s good for her. There’s nothing on television and I have no shopping to do. Cows are out of season, so I can’t fish. And the plumber’s going to charge you quadruple time and a half if you decide to install that new bathroom faucet today.

It’s not just another day because we build expectations of spending the holidays and holy days with our loved ones.

I’m dreaming of a Yuletide Nancy
Just like the one who had to go
When the earrings glisten,
and the red dress slips on,
Wearing her red hair in a bow…

I’m dreaming of a poly Christmas
With every Christmas card I write
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white.

Knight Key ChannelI am, by choice, in the warmest, most comfortable spot in the lower 48. It is about 80° right now, with puffy cumulus clouds overhead, and a gentle breeze riffling the palm fronds. I shall swim in the Atlantic this afternoon.

Truth be told, I’d rather be with my sweetheart. Even if I had to shovel snow or climb mountains.

“I would like to be with you. I would also like to be with D#2,” Nancy said. “I would love it if I could be with both of you and there would be warmth and comfort and friendliness but, practically speaking, I reasonably presume there would be a tension born between the men, competitive and not being accustomed to one another.”

Drama. The polydays nightmare.

Yeah, there would be tension but a different dissidence than one might expect.

Remember Paul and Polly Dent, Evelyn and Owen McGregor, and Nicole Norris? I thought so. Heck, I have the score card and even I can’t tell who is doing what to whom in that household. Plenty of drama there, but theirs grows from the secrets they keep, not from their desire to be with each other.

I believe the competitiveness when A, B, C, D, E, F, N, and I try to coordinate our schedules comes because we must meter our time with one another rather than because we two mens might happen be in the same room with the wimmens.

In other words, people like the Dents, McGregors, and Nicole who are always in and out of each other’s houses (or house) have maybe more need for apartness than togetherness. People who see each other only part time yearn for togetherness. That means that some combination of Anne and Nancy, or D#2 and my son, or her daughter and I, we each wish for the time the other gets.

[It is worth noting some artistic license in the alphabet soup, above. I think we just included everyone who ever appeared in the blog as well as our families, friends, and lovers.]

“But, barring being with me, I wish Anne could have come down. Or the kids. Or your Aunt Dot. Or Rufus,” Nancy said.

Anne spent yesterday with the “Bs,” her other family (and a 25-pound rib roast, a turkey breast, and a Smithfield ham); she’s traveling to both ends of Vermont today for two more Christmases with the kids. Nancy is off to California to spend the day with her daughter. I’m holding down the palm trees with Henk who isn’t on anyone’s list. And we will all share the best we can.

Merry Christmas, Darling.

Sculpture by Ania Modzelewski

[Editor’s Note: gekko and I shared the four-part polylocution that lead up to these afterposts. Please visit The Poly Posts for the entire series and for other resources.]

5 thoughts on “Poly-Days

  1. I’ll be with Sharon and my father. Gatsby stays home alone. Dad finally admitted he has trouble climbing the stairs to my apt, so now we’ll have to do our festive dinners over there. Diane is traveling back from Israel/NY and will be too tired to drive up here from San Diego today. Miss her. Miss my mom; I decided to sleep in and had a dream about my mom, so I woke up in tears. There’s no S.O. I’m missing, except an imaginary one that may or may not exist in the future.

    Sometimes the expectation of tension never comes to pass … like the stress is all dissipated in the imagining of it, so the actual encounter turns out smoothly, even enjoyably. I’ve found this true for myself anyway.

  2. > television…

    Before George or Anne jumps all over me I must, in the interest of full disclosure, note that da Bears are playing the Packers at Lambeau Field tonight.

  3. I wish I could afford to drink what Herr Blogmeister is pouring down his gullet. I probably can afford it, but just not in such quantity.

    Merry Christmas; and may the Great Fairy Godcamel leave you a nice hump.

    — George

  4. I sent Merry Xmas texts to six women today — well, two of those was in response to theirs. And I wasn’t being flip or a cad. I missed my A (aka N), and Γ and Δ, and texted them; and texted B too; and two more sweet ladies were maybe deep into the Xmas sherry and sending love everywhere, I dunno. Interesting times, and a good day completely dedicated to my offspring and their mother.

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