Holiday Overload: The Food, the Music, and Why I Still Love It

The holiday season is winding down, and part of me is glad. It’s a season of holiday overload. Not only do we have extra chores, decorating, and shopping, but there’s also a kind of sensory overload. Parties abound, and while the decorations are lovely, at some point they tip from festive into overwhelming.

Talk about excess - even the car is decorated! Wonder whar all that tape is doing to his car's paint.

Then there’s the music. It’s everywhere. Everywhere! And I’m convinced they turn up the volume; perhaps to get you in a shopping or eating mood? Sometimes, though, even the best intentions go awry.

Our group was having an afternoon meeting in the Café. I arrived ten minutes early and noticed White Christmas, the instrumental version, playing on repeat. I mentioned it to the server. He tried, but he didn’t know how to change it. It just kept repeating. We eventually held our meeting outside (thank heavens we live in Florida). Out of curiosity, I peeked back in the café after dinner. White Christmas was still looping. Same thing the next night. Even Irving Berlin would agree that was excessive.

And then there are the emails. I get several a day from Amazon alone: Something you might like, Your savings just landed. Two a day from Bed Bath & Beyond. On the email address I use strictly for subscriptions, I received two cookie recipes from Natasha’s Kitchen. Who needs that many cookie recipes in one day? By the end of the season, the paint on my delete key will be worn off.

Speaking of cookies, there’s an excess of food. Delicious food. Food laden with fats and sugars. Yum, who can resist? Your vegetable isn’t just green beans anymore; it’s green bean casserole with cream of mushroom soup and fried onion rings, adding at least 11 grams of fat and 470 milligrams of sodium. We make cranberry relish, but my favorite recipe is “surprise:”* cranberry relish, Jell-O, marshmallows, and pecans. The only healthy thing in there is the pecans. The rest of the holiday dishes follow the same pattern, and of course, you must have decadent desserts.

"Surprise!!"

And charcuterie boards. First of all, why has everyone adopted the fancy name? We used to call them meat and cheese trays. Is it because now the meats and cheeses are exotic delicacies rather than simple salami and cheddar? You practically need a loan to buy some of them. Boarderie offers a beautiful one for $170. That’s more than I spend on an entire meal. But I admit, it is pretty. And it’s a limited edition. Perhaps that’s how they can charge so much.

Then there are the gifts. Mostly food gifts. Cookies. Special, expensive chocolates (and you can’t let those go to waste). Last night I was genuinely delighted when a friend brought us a jar of pickled green beans. He knows we like that kind of thing. Low sodium. No fat. Now that is a friend who has heart and takes care of ours. But don’t get me wrong: please don’t stop bringing the Ferrero Rocher chocolates. They’re an indulgence I’d never buy for myself.

Even with all the excess, there are some things I can’t get enough of. I’m sitting here looking at my tree. It holds so many memories, and it may sound aggrandizing, but it’s beautiful. I also fill our home, normally decorated in neutral tones, with bright red pillows, red towels, and holiday artwork. That splash of color gives me extra energy and cheer. Up north, I’d leave some of the red décor up through winter, but in Florida I switch it out right after the holidays. Let’s face it: red is not exactly a Florida décor color.

I haven’t weighed myself yet. As you’ll see in my Moving at 80 post, I can’t fit the scale in the bathroom, so I have to pull it out of the closet, and I’ve been too lazy. But I’d better face it. Last week at the doctor’s office, I hit an all-time high. I may need to adopt my friend’s habit of ordering a double salad before the meal, so I’ll eat less of what comes after.

So yes, while I’m glad to see some of the holiday excess disappear, I’ll miss the spirit, the fellowship, and—yes—the decadent food.

And while I grumble about my overflowing inbox, mixed in among all the ads are updates from friends we usually only hear from once or twice a year.

Truth be told, while I complain about the excess, I love it. It’s our chance to be kids again—to delight in sights we rarely see, to enjoy special cookies and fancy cheese, to share laughter and joy with friends and family. So I’ll soak in that spirit for one more week… and then move on to normal life.

Happy New Year!

Surprise*

We’ve called this dish Surprise since the mid-1970s. The first time I made it, the Jell-O hadn’t fully set when I added the pecans and marshmallows, so they floated to the top. When the dish was unmolded, that meant they ended up on the bottom. When my ten-year-old sister reached the last spoonful and discovered the marshmallows and pecans, she happily announced, “Surprise!” The name stuck.