There aren't a lot of days of winter as the year runs out, less than two weeks before the next year starts. The more lengthy period of winter of course starts a long time before, in January lasting into March as we fled, happily, from 2020. It gradually but steadily became apparent that the promise of 2021--a sane president, a competent vaccination rollout, more social intermingling, a strong sane stock market, everybody getting vaccinated so we reach herd immunity, an end of the pandemic?--was a chimera and 2021 turned out to be worse, lots worse than 2020, if that was possible. (Walking to pickle ball on the footpaths I discovered between houses mid block as I found convenient street parking spaces a few blocks from the crowded courts, which used up nearby parking.)
But the last few days of 2021 had certain pleasures in and of themselves. I enjoyed the physicality of playing pickle ball four times a week, a couple of hours each time, if not the result because I'm not on the level with my fellow seniors who have been playing for a couple of years or more and these players are not shy about crushing anyone. Pickle ball is a four-player game, at least at my age, and I am death, due to my inexperience, to any partner who has to cycle through playing with me as I am on the losing end 90% of the time and it is very frustrating. But December was an extraordinarily temperate month, right up to the end, so I "enjoyed" my punishment right to the end of the year. (The Christmas season is a time for giving as well as receiving so I donated double red blood cells on Christmas Eve, my fifth blood donation last year.)
Christmas was a pleasure this year as I didn't spend it frozen on my porch exchanging presents as in 2020, instead I spent it luxuriously and quietly with a friend as we trimmed the tree I brought over, had bloody marys, enjoyed omelets for brunch, and gave special presents to each other (she gave me a real pickle ball paddle to replace my starter plywood $10 introductory model and I gave her a zip-up fleece jacket which she seemed to like). Will we be able to stroll down a crowded aisle in a crowded store next Christmas season albeit with masks? We'll see. Get vaccinated and boosted you selfish, unpatriotic unvaccinated ignoramuses out there and maybe we'll get there. (A pleasurable day.)
On the first day of winter in December I went on an enjoyable holiday lights perambulation around the District. It's always a pleasure to see the festive decorations and gayly trimmed and lit trees even though this year certain outstanding venues were closed to tourists like the Library of Congress, the Botanical Gardens and the Trump International Hotel. It is still holiday season with the MLK holiday coming up on Monday so Happy Holidays to all and maybe I'll see some or all of my children at the Lost Dog at noon on that day for lunch. Wink wink, boys. (The beautiful tree at the Willard Hotel. I was getting the stink eye from the concierge behind me as the way I was dressed, I obviously wasn't a guest.)
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