From the looks of things around this website and blog, you’d think I was still in India.   No, we’re home. And we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming here on the blog. A little snarky, a little inspirational, a little naughty.

We missed nearly all of November, so we really got to enjoy the holiday the way it used to be–shorter than three months.  Once home, the season was in full swing and I kind of liked it. We put our tree up a few days after Thanksgiving, which was plenty of time to get in the spirit. And much more enjoyable than how retailers beat the holiday to death every year.

Since the tree was up, we had our neighbors over for some food and drink. I had a little too much champagne. Literally a “little” –I drink about once a month so I’m a cheap drunk. But it was pink champagne and so delicious I had to buy a half dozen more bottles. (Is champagne “delicious?”) In fact, I’ve been drinking like a fish this season. (Do fish drink?)

We were happy to get our organic produce delivery, especially since we were produce-deprived in India.  This interesting pair of carrots appeared in the first box upon our return. I think they were competing with the Kama Sutra.

It’s been quite cold since our return, and at least four homeless people froze to death in this land of wealth we live in called Silicon Valley.  We’ve collected warm clothes and blankets from our closets and those of our friends, and I bought additional warm hats and gloves and we dropped them off at organizations that serve the homeless in our area. We do for the homeless all year around, it’s our focus area for giving, but the need was critical this month. It’s easy to find warm gloves, scarves, sweatshirts and hats on sale, especially after Christmas, so if it’s in your heart to help the homeless, hope to see you at Old Navy, Target and even Walgreen’s, pawing through the sale bins on their behalf.

We also heard of a neighboring teen who needed warm clothes and wanted a used bike, so we joined other neighbors in making her a great Christmas. It was fun to shop for patterned jeans, pretty hoodies and sweaters and even a few sparkly bracelets. And someone had a bike to give her.  We added a Target gift card and dropped it all off with the neighbor-angel who was collecting everything for the family. The dad told our neighbor he would take photos of his daughter on Christmas morning and share them, but even if he doesn’t, we loved being part of this neighborly activity. There are so many angels around and some are just waiting for inspiration.

No time for rest, either. Our first weekend back, the new season of the Magic Theatre kicked off and since we have season tickets, well, off we went…. the perfect reason for a great pre-holiday lunch overlooking the water with some fun friends, followed by some very good theatre.   And not just one theatre outing: a girlfriend and I have season tickets to the San Francisco Playhouse, and the second play of its season came up the following week, so back to the city I went. That one was not-so-good theatre. But great company! Good creative conversation. And San Francisco was tres amusing:

Little did I know, it was SantaCon. The train was packed with drunken Santas and elves.

Yeah, I don’t know WHERE those elves got their outfits.

A few drunken Santas agreed to pose while we all waited for cabs.  The city was a complete madhouse that Saturday.

I’m reading, reading, reading about India. Every day. I decided to re-read The Autobiography of a Yogi, which I first read at least 40 years ago. It’s even more wonderful this time.  I took a break halfway through (it’s damn long!)  to read a book by William Dalyrmple about New Delhi called City of Djinns. It’s a slim volume but chock full of history so I read slowly over an entire week. I usually devour a book like the gluttonous reader I am, but this was a book to be savored and pondered.

And high school BFF got here from Rochester for some pre-holiday festivities.  The trusty Subaru took us to the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco, where we got to see the much lauded Hockney exhibition.

Paint Trolley, 1985, Hockney

Since she’s an artist (and retired art teacher) it was only fitting.

I’ve enjoyed my time in India, both while there and revisiting it with you. You’ll see a bit more on India in the future, but not too soon. You’re probably sick of it by now. I’m back to wandering around life and sharing.

And then I saw this intriguing title, pondered it, and realized that I, too, have heard my praises sung in screams.

But maybe not in exactly the same way.