Another Christmas Song

The little live tree in the foyer that makes up for the bigger fake tree that will eventually be in the family room.

I did a stupid thing yesterday. I was sitting in my office chair when Big Mike the Cat walked in. He hates being held, but you can pick him up and set him in your lap, and he'll tolerate you for about 30 seconds. So, I bent forward and picked him up, and that's when my back went out. Sciatica or something like that. I dropped the cat half-way through the lifting and fell to the floor, saying "no, no, no, no" over and over again. I did the stretching exercises I learned from a chiropractor, but that didn't help. I was sunk. Or stuck, more like it.

I managed to hobble my way up the stairs to the kitchen and then into the carpeted family room. I tried the stretching again, but still nothing. The pain radiated through my legs, and it was something else, let me tell you. I winced and I moaned and I yelled to no one but myself, "not now!!" It's Christmas, for Pete's sake. There were Christmas cards to make (I literally make them from scratch), there was a tree to decorate, there was vacuuming to do, there was a newspaper column to write. And I have a concert this weekend.

I finally gave in and found a less-than-excruciating position to sit/lie in, and I watched "We're No Angels" with Humphrey Bogart, Peter Ustinov and Aldo Ray. I made a BLT sandwich while leaning to the right because my spine was incensed with having to support me upright. I managed to write the column.

Husband picked up some takeout for dinner, and I ate it with three glasses of wine. That did the trick—the perfect muscle relaxer. I never did get the Christmas stuff done, but in honor of the season, here is yet another recording I presented to blogworld last year around this time of year (from the Charlie Brown Christmas/Vince Guaraldi book):