With shopping done and holiday partying planned, I have to admit I’m a little bored at the moment.
So much so that I decided to wander across the street to see what the Zombies were up to.
If you recall, last year I unintentionally invited several of them over to our annual Winter Solstice/Christmas celebration.
Yeah…Zombies and Druids…in the same room.
And, while I would love to sit here and tell some wild story about the calamity that ensued as a result, I can’t.
The truth is the Zombies and Druids got along famously…as famously as one could hope when heathen barbarians and soulless ghouls mix.
Now, the Zombies and Morris Dancers were another story, but there’s no sense in rehashing that now.
So I was a little surprised when I hadn’t heard back from the Zombies, right away, after I sent out this year’s party invitations.
I mean, while the Zombies have their faults and can be a little disconcerting at times, they are, usually, very mindful of appearances—no, really they are—and will always, at least attempt to carry themselves with grace and gratitude, especially in social situations. Mostly because they don’t get invited to mingle a lot, so they’re really appreciative when they are.
Unlike the cloaked mystics who think everyone expects them to be mysterious and should be happy if they even decide to show up. Plus they tend to park themselves around the shrimp tray and never move.
So I decided maybe I should go over and see if the Zombies were okay.
Christmas can be a very awkward time of year for a lot of people, especially the undead. All the bell ringing and holly tend to stir up unpleasant memories…not sure why.
One of the witches next door tried to explain it to me once, but they totally lost me after we got past the 7th incantation and 4th parabola.
But that’s just me…I have a problem when it comes to numbers.
So now maybe you can see why it was such a big deal when the Zombies showed up at my door last year, Holiday Whitman Sampler in hand…well, sort of a hand.
Anyway, I knocked on the front door and since it can take a Zombie quite a while to shuffle over, I let myself in.
I know what you’re thinking…is it wise to just walk in and surprise a group of Zombies? You never know what you’re going to find.
But, I wasn’t the least bit concerned. These Zombies have gotten to know me a little over the years, and get that I don’t judge. But I have to tell you, this time even I was a little surprised at what I walked in on.
Oh…no…nothing like that. Actually, it was kind of a nice thing.
The Zombies were in full holiday mode, singing and prancing—as best they could—decorating the house with boughs of…something—I didn’t ask—and were even in the process of putting up a Christmas tree…an actual live Christmas tree. And don’t think for a minute I didn’t grasp the irony of the whole live tree vs undead damned, thing.
But of course I didn’t mention it.
You might recall Burt, from last time, one of the only Zombies I actually know by name, because it’s stitched on the remnants of his bowling shirt. Burt was up on a ladder hanging a set of bells in the corner, when he noticed me and waved a stump. I waved back and pointed towards the tree and gave a thumbs up sign…which, on latter refection, I regretted, as it may have been construed as showing off. But at the time, it didn’t seem to ruffle any…uh, let’s say feathers.
Burt just shrugged and shook his head, which to me indicated, while he appreciated the Zombie tree effort, he was skeptical the installers actually knew what they were doing.
None of them had thought to bring an actual stand to hold the tree upright, so they decided to make use of Uncle Leo, one of the oldest Zombies, who had the misfortune of choosing that moment for his afternoon dirt nap. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say, Uncle Leo won’t be going caroling this season. Not that he minded. Leo always found singing for cookies to be demeaning, anyway, and was happy enough to stay in this year and be the tree stand. After all…he wasn’t getting any younger…or older.
Burt, in way of acknowledgement, held up my party invitation and gave me his own version of a thumbs up…one he picked up off the floor.
He also indicated that he’s been looking forward to this shindig, all year, since he still had a bone to pick with one of the Morris Dancers…and while the image of that made me shudder, at least on the inside, I politely smiled and said, “Great! It just wouldn’t be a party without your rendition of Merry Christmas Baby.”
To which Burt, and Uncle Leo, impaled under the tree, both seemed to find particularly amusing. So much so that I thought the tree might topple over, right then and there, which I’m pretty sure is fated to happen anyway, sooner rather than later, since I can’t see Uncle Leo not going out in search of “eggnog” on the weekend, which is his custom.
So I’m glad I stopped by. Rather than be annoyed, the Zombies have just been busy, like the rest of us. So it looks like it’s shaping up to be another fun party.
And at least, now, I can give the Morris Dancers a heads up.
You know…before the Zombies do….
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