Home From The Holidays

When I returned home this evening, I took a bath, and attempted to soak away some of the sickness I gathered last week just prior to the holiday weekend. I wasn’t the only one, both of my parents also had nasty colds. It will be a miracle if my brother is able to stay healthy.

This evening is also the first time in a few days in which I have time to myself. This last weekend, I didn’t even have a bedroom in my parents’ house to disappear to at night, since I was sleeping in the den and my dad’s cold required him to spend the nights in his recliner, wheezing and hacking and making all sorts of other sickly noises as he tried to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep either. The quiet now is nice.

This, of course, makes the weekend sound miserable, which it was not. We shared good meals. Christmas morning was a lot of fun. The Packers beat the Vikings in a Christmas Eve game. And we lay low, for the most part, trying to recover from our illnesses. I sent out Christmas greetings yesterday and was only disappointed from lack of response once. And, of course, we found out that we lost George Michael on Sunday as well. While he was never an artist that I especially sought out, he was often in the background or on the radio, and I usually appreciated what I was hearing. Faith and Freedom 90 were the songs that I was most familiar with, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the video in which he addressed/ confronted/ and owned the bathroom sting that tried to persecute him for his homosexuality, and Last Christmas is one of my favorite Christmas songs–maybe even more now that I’m two Christmases single. He was incredibly talented and fantastically generous. I was just reminded of him (as were a lot of people) when the film Keanu featured him to such wonderful effect. I hear that he was nearing completion on a new album. I hope that it ends up being his Blackstar, a memorable conclusion to a fantastic artist’s career.

The drive back today was a little treacherous, storms on Christmas Day left the roads wind swept and icy throughout much of Minnesota. We traveled back to the Twin Cities on Highway 65, hedging our bets that taking 210 to 35 South would be a worse route. I think we gambled correctly, because, while initially icy, 65 wasn’t too bad and by the time we got to Mora the road was clear for the most part. We stopped for a late lunch at a Subway in Cambridge and got coffees from Caribou before completing the trip, safe and sound. I took my bath this evening, watched a mediocre movie (The Visit) and now I’m in bed, writing out this entry.

I’m back to the day job tomorrow. We’re in our end run to the closing of this year.

More later …


Published by: Thomas Rohde

Artist // Writer // Theatre Professional // Nerd // Night Owl Inspired by a steady and lifelong infusion of pop culture, comic books, and a vast assortment of films and books, our friendly neighborhood blogger has doomed himself to a life of creative pursuits. There's not enough time for everything, but we all do what we can. Artist: of watercolor, ink, comic illustration, horror/ sci-fi/ fantasy art. Writer: of fictions, tweets, captions & blogs. Lover: coffee, whiskey, wine & beer. Instagram and Twitter as @demipho

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