Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s Eve are three strange days for me.
Imagine yourself at a party. You’re having a reasonably good time, moving from conversation to conversation, nothing much unusual going on. Then, all of a sudden and all at once, the party splits up into small groups that move from the main area into various rooms around the house, closing the doors behind them. You continue to munch crackers and cheeseball while reading a magazine. A few minutes later, everybody comes back out of their rooms and the party resumes as if nothing unusual has happened. Except everybody looks tired and they smell like turkey.
Maybe later today I’ll go for a walk downtown to enjoy the eerie silence. Christmas morning is great for that, too.