Well, it’s Christmas Eve and I’m all set for a traditional Lithuanian Christmas Eve dinner tonight with my family.

It’s traditional to not eat meat on this day, so I have to hold off on the tandoori chicken that I know will be calling to me today.

Kucios (Christmas Eve – or if you are pagan, Solstice) usually has 12 meatless dishes (fish isn’t a “meat” so there are a lot of fish dishes) – hot, cold, sweat, savory. There is the breaking of the bread, which under the auspices of Catholicism has turned into the breaking of some weird wafer called a “Plotkele” – which is made from the same substance as the Eucharist. Yup you guessed it, Lithuanian Roman Catholic Priests are the ones who distribute this lovely wafer to each family to be used for Kucios.

My brother and I have agreed to not purchase each other gifts, which is okay by me, since he is difficult to shop for. I’ve been tempted to get my father a digital camera, and I think I may get him one. He is 74 years old, so if I do get him one it would have to be something really simple with no fiddling of the flash or anything. I’m thinking of an HP or Kodak…probably no more than 3.2-4MP. My mother is another story – she’s a religious nut so if I was a masochist I’d just get her some religious movie like the “Ten Commandments” – but I would then have to live with the guilt of my father being subjected to this.

Parents are funny that way – my mom is a religious nut, going to church everyday, saying her rosary and going off to pilgrimages. My father, on the other hand, shifts from being an atheist to an agnostic, depending on his mood and time of day. When my mom starts talking about Jesus, he’s an atheist.

Last year during Kucios my father intimated that he was proud of the fact that I shook off my mother’s teachings and have turned my back on Catholicism. It was the best moment of the Christmas Holiday Season for me last year. 🙂

The cat is doing well – I think. He’s got a bit of a little cold, and he’s weezing. But luckily he doesn’t mind the meds I’ve been giving him. He looks at me angrily when I try to shove the pill down his little gullet, but he doesn’t spit it out when it does go down. He’s currently on top of my duvet, looking like an angry little sphinx, that I had dared to give him a pill.