Our celebration, which is often fairly quiet, is much muted by the death of Christine's brother's wife C today.
Christine had decided before that she would not go back for the funeral, but with the death on Christmas Eve, she's feeling more called to be with her brother. She's now resolved that if they schedule the funeral with enough time for her to attend, she'll go, but she's not leaving now for a funeral on an uncertain date.
Although there is some desire for internment on Saturday. I so don't think that's gonna happen with the holiday. At 5 pm today, Christine was still trying to make some contact with the cemetery management regarding transferring ownership of our crypts to her brother in order to meet C's request to be interred above Christine's mother. (The crypts were a gift; long story.) No voicemail was set up at the emergency number, the email she had bounced. The fax went through after 5.
I was working (with a few breaks to sit with Christine). There's a project that is in panic mode this week and they hadn't started discussions with my team until ... well, really, this week.
We were part of the crush at the grocery store with just an hour or so until closing. Plenty of folks wandering around looking for ingredients.
Christine had noticed pistachio salad at the grocery store earlier in the week and we'd agreed to buy some as part of our celebration. I don't think there's any pistachio in it. Green jello, pineapple, mayo, marshmallows, and a sprinkling of pecans: yes. Pistachio: no.
Now for a Downton Abbey Christmas episode.