The Holidays will be over tomorrow. A tribute to Uncle Bubbas and Aunt Gertrudes everywhere.
When Aunt Gertrude and Uncle Bubba came to visit, the women went to the kitchen and talked about families, childbirth, and homemaking. Uncle Bubba went to the parlor with Dad. My sister, Grace and I, wandered between both settings.
Our parlor was Uncle Bubba’s debate forum. There, surrounded by lace curtains, furnishings frozen in time from the Victorian era, Uncle Bubba held forth–starting with an inquiry as to the availability of home-baked delicacies.
Uncle Bubba was a big, guffawing, hulk of a man. Aunt Gertrude was a prim and proper wisp of a woman–quiet and reserved. Her salt-and-pepper hair was usually fixed in a bun. Unlike her husband, Aunt Gertrude always saw the good in everything.
“It was on Merv Griffin yesterday–people depressed at Christmas, after Christmas, during winter, spring, and every other time of year. Christmas blues, Post-Holiday blues, the “Boo-Hoo” blues, the “You and Me” blues–who believes that crap? It’s just another excuse for people to…
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