Gilding the Lily

I LOVE my new house! OK, my old/new house. As we decorated the Christmas tree yesterday, I thought again how dressing up the house is such a joy, because it is so effortless. The walls are clean, the floors unmarked, the staircase unscuffed (and as of two weeks ago, safely carpetted). A flick of the duster here, a whisk of the broom there, and everything is shining again. I do get help too, so all in all the house manages to stay clean most of the week except weekends when we totally mess it up, the kids, K. and me.

I've always loved new houses or newly-restored ones. You won't find me sentimentally lingering over "charming" old houses. Please note that this is not a paean to McMansions. It's not the size that matters, just the clean new feeling. Having grown up in a variety of creaky, crumbly old houses in India (and some new, ugly, modern flats with dismal yellow interiors - still creaky and crumbly because of the bad materials used), I have always appreciated the joys of plumbing that works, roofs that don't leak, doors that don't stick, toilets that don't make you queasy to look at them, and above all, I loved houses where the grime hadn't settled into a thick coating of black grease making cleaning a constantly unsuccessful war.

Note again, I haven't said a word about furniture. Furniture or its arrangement is relatively unimportant to me. As long as there are no bugs lurking within mattresses and cushions, I don't care whether people seat me in Louis XV grandeur or on humble floor cushions. For that matter, we don't have too much furniture in our new place either. Maybe that's part of the reason for loving the house. Because it's relatively uncluttered still (except for the kids' clutter) and therefore easy to keep clean.

Hindu Shopping for a Christian holiday

This year the holidays have been rather sad. A close member of my extended family (my brother D.'s mother-in-law) passed away the day before Thanksgiving. It's been a rough year for D. and his wife. Still, at least we got to see D. and my niece I. as they were in Connecticut before leaving for Kolkatta. Luckily, the kids are too little to be affected by the sadness. They just played and squabbled like kids do.

Other than that, I have been busy shopping. As I made my rounds of malls and stores, I reflected on why it is that I - the Hindu from India - got stuck with the burden of buying Christmas presents for my American husband's family. Is it just a gendered thing? Do wives generally bear the brunt of maintaining holiday traditions, even holidays they never grew up with? Oh we had Christmas in India but for us Hindus, it was just an excuse for another party at the club, not the occasion to buy presents or cook large meals. That was Durga Puja and Diwali. K. is grateful for my efforts as he hates shopping and is not religious at all (so there is no sentimentality about the holiday either).


But speaking to friends, I realized that perhaps I'm just the dupe in this arrangement! Many of my friends leave it up to their husbands to shop for their own families. I think the reason I got involved was because of the fear of embarrassment. K. hates shopping so much that Christmas presents from him would be last-minute purchases of gift cards to Carvel or something. And I thought that I, with my taste and thoughtfulness, would find better things that his family would appreciate. I suspect they do like my choices but every November/December I am kicking myself while my husband stretches luxuriously in front of the TV. How do I get out of this situation of my own making? Without his mother receiving gift cards from Dunkin' Donuts?