On Day 21, we go up, up and away!

Day 21: Do you travel on the holidays?

ON the holidays? No. A few days before and immediately after. Tomorrow (gulp!) I'll be landing in Key West and I'm returning on Saturday.

Key West International Airport really does require you take stairs off the plane and walk outdoors to the terminal. Those figures surrounding the Southernmost marker are called "New Friends" by sculptor John Seward Johnson, whose work appears on the island. Key West is a quirky place, and the airport is part of its charm.

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Day 20 is yummy

Day 20: Favorite holiday meal

Last year we dined on Christmas Eve at Duffy's, one of my favorite Key West restaurants. I counted this as a victory because while I love this casual and affordable place, it leaves one of my friends totally cold. But here's the thing, the menu features two of my favorite food groups -- steak and seafood -- and the ambiance is bright and airy and the bill won't bust your budget. It offers a nice, family vibe, since my friends know so many of the wait staff. Therefore, I hope we make a tradition of it and dine there for Christmas Eve 2016.

BTW, last year I had the shrimp scampi.

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Day 19 is something I didn't know I remembered

Day 19: Favorite stocking stuffer

My mom hung our stockings on our doorknobs. That way, the stockings would keep us occupied a little longer so she and my dad could sleep until 7:00 AM. When I read this question, I recalled Christmas morning, 1966,when I could see this bright red book cover and the word "BEATLES" (the most beautiful word in my vocabulary) peering out of my stocking. I haven't thought about this in years.

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Day 18: I'm greedy

December 18: When do you open gifts?

The moment I receive them. Because it isn't physically possible to do it any sooner.

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December 17: Post a picture of an old Christmas card

 

This one represents the style that was popular during the Civil War. Old enough fer ya?

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Day 16 is hard

December 16: The hardest person to buy for

My friend Kathleen. She makes a good deal of money and can buy herself anything she wants, so finding the right present takes thought and imagination.

This past summer, at our local bookfair, I found an autographed copy of Jimmy Carter's memoir, Turning Point, for just $1. Jimmy Carter is one of the people she admires most on God's green earth, so I'm excited about it.

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Day 15 is frosty cold

December 15: Best Gift You've Ever Given

Every year I used to give my mother a snow removal service. Some years it was a great deal, some years it turned out to be quite expensive. The important thing was it saved her from going out with her bad knees and COPD and shoveling the white stuff herself.

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Day 14: I fake it

 December 14: Real or Artificial Tree

Artificial tree. And here it is, the last time it made an appearance, Christmas 2011. The picture reminds me I enjoyed. Maybe next year I'll put it up.

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Day 13 Is Tasty

December 13: Favorite Christmas Book

The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman. I've read it twice, and if my TBR pile wasn't so tall I'd be reading it again now. It's a lovely, well-crafted story of friendship and traditions. And it's filled with cookie recipes, some of which I've actually been tempted to try.

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Day 12: I'm a wrapper

December 12: Wrapping paper or gift bags

Depends on the gift, but for the most part, I'm paper.

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Day 11: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Click here to see the American Humane holiday collection

December 11: Favorite holiday tradition

I kick off Christmas over Thanksgiving weekend, when I write out my cards. I always send cards that promote a charity. Most people were sent a critter card that supports American Humane Association. Those who do not celebration Christmas or aren't that into puppies and kittens received a card from the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. (Those were harder to write out, because I miss Williamsburg more than I realized.)

I like starting the holidays by reminding myself what matters -- the people in my life and causes I care about.

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Day 10: Lemme in

December 10: Favorite Christmas scent

Cinnamon. And now I've got this wretched piece of pop running through my head. On a continuous loop. "One potato, two potato, three potato, four. Open up cinnamon, I want more ..."

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Day 9: Beatle Bonding

December 9: Easiest person to buy for

Either my oldest friend of my nephew. For they are massive Beatle fans. And I am uniquely qualified to select the perfect gift for the Beatle fan on your list.

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Day 8: A little blurry

December 8: Post a picture of Christmas decor

These are three of the four cardboard cutouts we gaze at in my office. (The fourth is Santa, and he decorates our little office frig.) They are decades old, purchased at Woolworth's back in the 1980s. I adore them.


Sorry the photo is so blurry. I took it with my phone.

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Day 7: You had to go there

I always wanted to spend Christmas with Andy Williams

December 7: Your Most Memorable Christmas

Unfortunately, my most memorable Christmases were the bad ones. The tense ones. The worst one was when I was in high school.

My icky grandmother was an alcoholic. It would be easy to attribute all of her bad behavior to booze, but that's not accurate. She was a brittle, angry woman before she drank, and a brittle, angry woman after she got sober. But this story happened to take place while she was drinking.

She had to host a sit-down Christmas Eve dinner at her home every year. My mother offered to have a buffett at our house, but Grandma refused. "Tradition is important." OK. As far as I saw, the tradition was that every year she resent how hard she worked to prepare food for us ingrates. Also, when I tried to help, she scolded me for my ineptitude and shamed my mother for neglecting to teach me domestic skills.

The previous Thanksgiving, just weeks before, I tried to help with the dishes after dinner. My older sister scalded me with the sink spray hose. I screamed (in pain) and my dear, sweet Grandma said, "For Christ's sake, Gal, aren't you EVER quiet?"

So now it's Christmas Eve. I remember the dress I was wearing (green, boatneck). I was sitting on the floor admiring the gift she'd given me: a big, potted jade plant. I was very into plants at that time.

"Thank you, Grandma," I said to her blissed out form. Really, she was loaded. Not present at all. "Thank you, Grandma," I repeated. She never looked at me. I gave up.

Then, when the dinner dishes were cleared, I went into the living room to sit with my dad and uncle. None of the menfolk ever helped in the kitchen ... Grandma had just told me barely a month ago that I was noisy and inept ... and she didn't seem to notice I existed anyway, so why bother?

The next day -- CHRISTMAS, mind you -- she called and tore into my mother. Who turned around and tore into me. I was rude. I never thanked Grandma for the plant (which she "paid good money for"). I didn't help in the kitchen. I'm ungrateful. I don't care about anyone or anything but myself.

Thank God we didn't all have to gather together again until Easter.

This was not an isolated incident. As the old comedians liked to say, "I got a million of 'em." So now you know why I am very happy to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with friends, not family. Being with my friends in the Keys is like wrapping myself up in an eiderdown quilt, whereas being with family feels like being scraped with sandpaper.

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Day 6: Isn't He Lovely?

December 6: Your Favorite Ornament

I'm not putting a tree up this year, so it doesn't matter that my favorite ornament won't be displayed anywhere. In fact, alas, it no longer exists.

I created this styrofoam snowman with my own two hands at my classic film club's first-ever Christmas party back in 2013. He was top of mind because we had our 2015 gettogether last night. Instead of crafts, we had cookies and juice. I'm always touched by how much work and care our moderator puts into our meet ups.

This ornament met an unfortunate end. When I looked at him, I saw a charming snowman. My diva girlcat, Charlotte, looked at him, and saw three of her favorite targets of prey: pom-poms, pipecleaners and elastic bands. She dispatched him with brutal efficiency.

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Day 5: Nothing has ever been able to touch him

December 5: Best gift you've ever received

We're setting the Wayback to the autumn when I just turned four. Mattel was the one brand name I knew. Mattel made Barbie. Mattle made Chatty Cathy, the doll that talked. Mattel knew what I wanted.

So when the commercials said, "NEW from Mattel!" naturally they had my attention. When I saw him, they had my heart.

Blaze. The most beautiful thing ever. A pinto rocking horse who didn't just rock. He bounced up and down, too! And, when you pulled the string, he neighed and whinnied. He was my ideal. I didn't just want him. I loved him.

Then the Sears catalog came. I gazed at the black-and-white photo of him for what felt like hours on end (but, considering I was a fidgety four-year-old, it was probably five consecutive minutes). When we went shopping for something boring at Sears, I broke away from my family and my parents found me in the toy department, talking to Blaze. He was set at the top of the shelf where I couldn't touch him. But at least he wasn't in a box, so I could see him. He was dazzling.

My mom told me later that was when the deal was sealed. After catching me talk aloud to my horse in the toy aisle of Sears, they knew what Santa was getting me.

I will always, ALWAYS remember coming into the living room on Christmas morning and seeing Blaze under the tree. To me it meant Santa and magic and love were real.

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Day 4: It's Gotta Be Andy

December 4: Favorite Christmas Song

It changes. This year it's "Christmas Holiday." There's an urgency, an eager anticipation that really appeals to me this year.

"Yuletide! Good cheer! Christmas is here!"

While the song may change year-to-year, my favorite holiday artist never does. Andy Williams. Between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, I want to hear Andy Williams every day.

When I was a kid, I fantasized like mad about spending Christmas with Andy as his family. I knew them from his annual holiday show: they were a big clan, they sang, they never fought. Of course, in 1976 the ex-Mrs. Williams shot her lover, so I guess no one is as they seem.

But let's not allow that pesky reality to harsh our holiday buzz!

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Day 3: The Truth Is Out There

December 3: How/when did you find out Santa isn't real

Throughout the Christmas break from Kindergarten, I started questioning.

•  Why does Santa use the same wrapping paper and gift tags as my mom?

•  Why did the kids down the block get so much less? Does Santa give less to kids in big families?

My mother remembered it as me "challenging" her, but at this point I still believed. I wanted answers, that's all. For the following Christmas, my mom purchased separate "Santa paper" and the gift tag became just squares of paper that she wrote with her left hand. In retrospect, I'm touched by how much work she put into maintaining the illusion.

Alas, by then (first grade) the jig was up. Too many kids at school were starting to question at well. I don't remember their specific queries, but they were different than mine. That meant there were a lot of unresolved issues! For me, the last straw was the adhesive where price stickers had obviously been. If elves made this toy, why does the package have a price sticker?

So, just before Christmas in second grade, my parents sat my sister and I down in my room and told us the truth. My dad -- in a move remarkably thoughtful for a man who was so uncomfortable parenting -- read us a condensced version of the New York newspaper's "Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus" editorial. 

"Yeah, yeah," I was thinking. "Now get out of my room. This is weird."

My older sister, however, was a different case. A third grader, remember. She was shattered. She cried, really cried. Red face and snots. 

It was not the first time I thought she was an idiot.

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December 2: My 2012 Wish List

What I wanted then, I still want now: Homemade gingerbread! Men would be optimal, but I'll happily accept a gingerbread loaf or plain old round cookies.

My niece is an exceptional cook and simply refuses to make it for me. She says the kind I'll "settle" for are not the type she wants to make and she simply doesn't have time to make them the way she wants to. It also amuses her that I want them so badly. Last year she gave me ginger beer. The year before that it was a box of a gazillion little store-bought gingerbread stars. I don't recall what she did in 2013, but I'm sure this year she'll come up with yet another way to taunt me.