This year, it was a potluck. And, to my surprise, I realized that I could trust the food of most of the people who brought food. About the only one I couldn't brought flan, and I don't eat flan anyway. On the other hand, they seemed to like my lasagna. So, that was good.
Watched the kids open presents. Family custom is to give presents to all the kids precollege age - anyone else is up to you. At the moment, therefore, we're giving presents to three little boys - 8, 5 and 4. The eight year old got the best present ever - a home depot tool box with real tools, safety glasses, a toolbelt/apron and a painter's cap. He pretty much forgot about the others after he opened that.
I did spend a lot of time reading. It helped. I also listened a lot.
And. Well. At one point, I wondered what would be if things had happened the way they *should* have. We started trying to have kids when I was about thirty. Nine years ago. If life had been kind, we'd have had an eight year old. And maybe a five year old and a one year old named after my father, or I'd be pregnant now or something. But that's not a productive way of thinking. Except that there are so few kids in that generation...those three and two more in Israel.
And when I came home, I found that my friend, the one I talked about last night...her funeral is tomorrow. :(