This is a post about the joy and shenanigans that keeps my life and writing going. Part 1: Wolf Daaaaaaay! For the record, every time I say that, I'm saying it like the camel in that hump day commercial.
If you haven't seen it, I recommend finding a clip on the youtubes. I can't tell you what it was for, but I can always yell 'Hump DAAY' in the proper inflection.
Aaaaaanyway, this is about Wolf Day, which in its inaugural outing in this our year 2022, happened on a Saturday.
Jeremy and I finished up our first workamping experience (awesome, more on that another time), and so it was time to head out of New England and go south for winter.
The sad part of that meant missing out on some celebrations with my family, including my baby brother's birthday. Bright side - we had one last Saturday, and my family is skilled at rearranging actual holidays/birthdays/etc for all kinds of reasons (illness, weather, where the wind takes us, etc.). So: easy peasy - we do his birthday a little early, Jeremy and I hit the road the next day, bittersweet but cake and happy birthday-ing accomplished. Right?
No. My dad and stepmom went big. Way big. Bigger than Texas big.
When we walked in Saturday morning, we were greeted with "Happy Wolf DAAAAAY!!!" There was some confusion on our part, but it was cleared up when I saw a plastic egg hiding in a plant.
And a Christmas tree in the living room.
Wolf Day is ALL THE THINGS. A mishmash. A beautiful, wonderful, I-laughed-so-hard-my-face-is-still-sore, wonderful series of awesomeness.
First: you should know that as far as we do 'traditions' they are silly and delightful. For instance, for a good decade or so, our easter egg searches were scavenger hunts, which included clues from an easter bunny who grew progressively crankier, sassier, and swear-ier as we got older. So Wolf Day kicked off with the following letter -
(WARNING: Do not proceed if you are offended by profanity, the corruption of poor innocent easter bunnies, holidays moving out of their rightful places, or the fraternization of imaginary childhood ideals in a decidedly disrespectful - though hilarious - manner. Everything isn't for everyone. It's ok!)
I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing at some point.
After we found all the eggs, there were the traditional egg shots (where you knock back the edible contents of the plastic eggs - this year it was m&ms and cheerios, a surprisingly delicious mix), and more laughing.
Throughout the rest of the day we had thanksgiving dinner on Christmas plates surrounded by delightfully mixed decor, ate birthday cake, and then...
No, wait. So another thing you need to know is that my dad set a rule many years ago - no christmas decorations before his birthday (which is mid December). And yet...
This happened. It was amazing. We did a fantastic job decorating the tree first time, no mistakes made, no comments, thank you. ;)
There was traditional family Uno (the Official Grudge Making/Holding/Expressing and BloodBath of Cards), stealing of leftovers, and more joy than I can properly explain.
It was an amaaaazing send off, I'm still giggling about it, and now I need to work in delightful and offbeat holiday celebrations into my next book. What are your silliest/funniest/most ridiculous holiday traditions? Or a new one you're inspired to make happen?
And as for part 2 of shenanigans and joy: the rest of the week will be spent at Factory Con, surrounded by more of my favorite people, probably equally profane and ridiculous and wonderful and very, very needed.
I hope you have this measure of wonderfulness in your near future. See you on the flip side.
Comments