It’s December 1st and it’s snowing. Perfect. The month is here when we all spend more than we really have, yet we all keep spending and spending, throwing our cares to the wind. We have three houseguests and the upstairs is packed full, all three bedrooms occupied by my three sisters.
A little speed-bump came up when my younger sister objected to the mattress on the floor. Gotta inflate that air mattress and hope it’s a little more comfortable. Maybe it’s because I was so vexcd by the star wrench and gave up trying to put the bed frame together.
This is a tradition that goes back a long time. I can remember my three sisters coming to visit when I lived on Conway Street in the early ’90s. Each time they would come for the weekend, many of the same friends would come over for our Saturday night party. Some times it takes guest stars from out of town to bring people all together at our house. It’s a great excuse for a party!
The conversations are long and detailed, the intimacies of all of our lives get taken out and examined. It’s a phenomenon that is pretty much unique–this doesn’t happen with my regular set of friends. Late into the night, the conversations continue, even after we’ve gone to bed we can hear processing going on, punctuated by laughter.
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