Party the Seventh took place at what I refer to as the Legislative Party House, because it's so often a site for festive functions. And meetings.
The Majority Party sponsored the event, so the Speaker of the House was present, the Majority Leader, the Assistant M.L.'s, other members of leadership and staff, out-of-town representatives who'd had business at the Capitol that day, and those of us who live an easy driving distance from the city. There was a good crowd and lots of chatter. I drank cider and eggnogg and managed to nibble a brownie-type thing and piece of cheese on a cracker.
Oh, and the Governor stopped in. He approached me in his friendly way at the very moment my committee chairman was desperately trying to convince me to accept an appointment he has in mind for me. He actually enlisted the Governor's support--an unfair tactic? I think so.
Party the Eighth was also political but because it was a potluck there was more sustaining food. The Governor wasn't able to attend, so our "political celebrity guest" was the State Party Chairman, with whom I had a somewhat lengthy chin-wag before he departed into that chilly night.
Everybody is obsessed with our looming Primary. We eat, sleep, and breathe polls, pundits, and politicos.
I personally was polled three times in a 12-hour period. Two of them were automated push-polls. The other included an invitation to chat on Fox News with Hannity and Colmes on the eve of our NH Primary.
One of the screening questions: Am I "Extremely Talkative" or "Very Talkative" or "Somewhat" or "Not at All"? I was tempted to say my answer depended on whether I was first given a glass of wine.
Back to last night...I beat the Chap back to the Lodge--he'd had a nonprofit Board meeting. After watching the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol,, we caught an episode of Twister Sisters. Watching people chase twisters was a bit too repetitive for me, so I messed about on my laptop and read newspapers. Having spent some of my formative years not very far from a Tornado Alley, I was experienced that familiar queasy feeling at the sight of those tumultuous skies and dangling funnels.
Until yesterday afternoon I hadn't left the Lodge since Saturday, and I was amazed by the size and height of the plowed snow mounds along the roadsides--at the roundabout in my town--at city intersections. I don't understand why they haven't been sliced down during the two days of bright dry weather, in preparation for the inevitable next round.
Yes, there's more snow in our future: another blast is headed our way this evening. We're in the "4 to 8 inches" band. And it's supposed to snow tomorrow, too.
No more parties on the horizon. I tried to work out whether I/we had more invitations this year as a result of my "official" status, and reckon that only yesterday's two were additions. All the others were ones we've always attended.
It's my assumption that for everyone else I know, in my real life and my cyber life, the seasonal intensity is increasing, while we've wound down towards a very quiet and peaceful (and white!) Christmas holiday. Our social calendar appears to be closed for 2007. It's possible that we might get together quietly and peacefully (and whitely) with friends this weekend. And I hope to see the new Sweeney Todd film with a pal. But no partying will occur.
Tonight for supper, we return to healthful, substantial fare. Green chile chicken burritos. With side salad.
But because someone has given me the recipe for these, my new favourite treats...
...and the Chap promised to pick up necessary ingredients (rice chex, chocolate chips, peanut butter) tonight when he stops at the market to do our big Holiday Shop...
...I am swirling around in a twister of foreboding. I've got no willpower when it comes to sweet stuff. We hardly ever have any in the house, except at this time of year.
That reminds me. I left a box of sugar cookies with Christmas-y white and green icing on our kitchen counter.
Isn't it about lunchtime?
And don't Christmas cookies = lunch?
Today, I think, they definitely do.
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