[at-l] How to deal with Hiker Crankiness during winter season?

[bluetrail at aol.com]

Since I was divorced 15 years ago, I dreaded Christmas afternoon.  Usually my son spent Christmas Eve (most of it) and Christmas morning with me, and then he went to his Dad's about noon.  It was such a big let down.  I defintely wanted him to have Christmas time with his Dad, but the afternoon was an painful reminder of a divided family and a failure.  Tried different things:  an overnight backpack that was fun despite the pouring rain, a hike in Christmas (Florida) on Christmas, etc.  But none of it completely dulled the ache.

Then one year I asked a friend whose father had passed away in the early fall how Thanksgiving went.  He said it was awful, with that empty place at the end of the table.  Since his mother lived down the street from me, I decided to ask them to come down for dinner on Christmas.  Well, it grew from there.  I invited everyone I could think of who didn't have family or might be alone.  We're now a fluctuating group of 20 or so and we get together every year for Christmas dinner, most of the time at my house.  I don't have time for an empty ache any more.  I'm too busy cooking a turkey and mashed potatoes and some sides, setting up folding tables, putting out the flatware, and preparing the back porch.
Most everyone brings some special dish--squash casserole, pie, cake, sweet potatoes, a relish tray, a honey-baked ham, etc.

The porch becomes the beverage station---soda, wine, water, and lots of cheap champagne.  I put out recipes and ingredients for various champagne cocktails and everyone fixes his own.  Gary brings English crackers (those things that look like wrapped toilet paper tubes and contain a joke, a toy, and a paper crown).  I insist that everyone wear their paper crown at dinner.  Jon sets up a fire bowl in the backyard for an after dinner campfire experience.  

We're as motley a crew as Clyde described.  Jack, who gives a wonderful grace before dinner but lives in a reality all his own.  Often a stray hiker who's come in off the FT (yes, there will be one this Christmas), Steve my friend of 30 years and his partner.  John and Marcia who met when they were rodeoing; he was a trick roper and she was a trick rider.  Rollin, who's an artist.  My thru-hiker sweetie, Jon.  Diane, who's my hiking partner in crime.  Mrs. M, mother of Steve and a Georgia southern belle to the core.  Steve's brother David, whom I once dated briefly.  David's girlfriend, whom Steve says bears a striking resemblence to Morticia Adams.  And more...

Steve calls our gathering the Island of Misfit Toys.  I call it fun, and I'm way too busy to feel any heartache.

Joan
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