I started reading the “agony aunts”—Ann Landers and Dear Abby—in fourth or fifth grade.  Dear Abby appeared in the Bisbee Daily Review.  Ann Landers was in the Douglas Dispatch.  At the time, I had no idea that the two of them were actually sisters with a somewhat prickly relationship.  Maybe they both should have written to some other advice columnist to get some suggestions about possible solutions to that rift.

Sometime last summer I quit reading both of them cold turkey with absolutely zero negative withdrawal issues.  On the positive side, I gained back a few minutes of time every day.  One of the things that bothered me was that many of the same issues came up over and over again, year after year.  One of those that really bugged me was when, in families where there were divorce issues or even complicated in-law issues, the kids always complained about having to do a footrace from house to house and choke down multiple plates of turkey and dressing before they finally made it to the end of Thanksgiving.  And then there were the parental units complaining that the kids always went to the “other” parents for holiday celebrations. Whenever I’d read about one of those issues, I’d find myself grinding my teeth and muttering, “Get a grip, people!”

I’ve written about this before, but some things bear repeating. Sixty-some odd years ago, my mother, Evie Busk, peered into her crystal ball and saw a future in which our family was going to be faced with a similar issue when she learned that my then boyfriend and eventual first husband had to be at home with his mother every Christmas NO EXCEPTIONS!

Always resourceful, my mother engineered an effective solution by reimagining the old Swedish custom of Lil Jul Aften, aka Little Christmas Eve.  In the old country, Lil Jul Aften occurs the Sunday before Christmas.  By the way, that J in Jul is pronounced like a Y, as in yule. As my mother explained it to me at the time, there’s a festive dinner—ham usually along with appropriate side dishes—and all attendees are allowed to open a single gift.

That first Evie-proclaimed Lil Jul Aften occurred in 1963, and it’s been going strong ever since.  It worked great during the time I was dating my first husband and while we were married. After we divorced. Lil Jul Aften became an incredible blessing because I could have my Christmas with the kids before they went to Vegas to visit their father and grandmother.  And it continues to be a blessing now that Bill and I are married and our family has expanded to kids, grandkids, and great grandkids who have grown up to live independent and more far-flung lives.

One of the advantages of celebrating a holiday on a different day is that it isn’t a holiday for anyone else.   If you need a last-minute batch of whipping cream from the grocery store or an emergency gift for an unexpected guest, it’s no problem.  The stores are all wide open.

It’s also a moveable feast.  One year when there was an unusual pre-Christmas snowstorm here in Seattle, we celebrated Lil Jul Aften the Sunday AFTER Christmas once the weather had cleared up.  Last year due to a death in the family, moving the celebration to the next Sunday was also a necessity, one that turned out to work surprisingly well.  Having the party the weekend before Christmas sometimes made it difficult for people attending college or teaching school because sometimes scheduled winter breaks posed a conflict.  So this week we’re again having our big family gathering the weekend following Christmas Day.

This year, that’s especially beneficial since, on December 21, 2025, Bill and I will be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. Thanks to Evie Busk’s wisdom, there won’t be any timing conflicts because Lil Jul Aften is an entirely moveable feast.  If it happens to be more convenient for everyone in your family to show up in the middle of the summer rather than at Christmastime, you could hold your own celebration then.  If need, you could also declare an alternative date for celebrating Thanksgiving!

This year, on the afternoon of December 28th, I’ll raise a glass and propose a toast to my mother. In 1963 she was smart enough to peer into the future, glimpse an on-going problem, and come up with a permanent solution that has benefited several generations—kids, grandkids, great grandkids, and now even great greats.

Way to go, Evie Busk!  You may have only had a seventh-grade education, but when it came to common sense, you were at the head of the class!