Twelve Days of Co-op Christmas

Last Saturday, we had a Haymarket House Christmas party, complete with secret Santa gifts and carol-singing around the tree. One of our housemates suggested that we compose our own "Twelve Days of Christmas." There were twelve of us, so we went around, composing verses as we sang. What we came up with sheds some light on co-op living:

Day 1: A blender that doesn't break down 

Since there are thirteen of us living in this house, and most of us like smoothies, blenders get heavy use, and break fairly often. Our current blender has a five-year warranty, and looks pretty industrial. We're hoping it lasts a year.

Day 2: Two legal egresses

Our house was recently (right before Heather and I moved in) renovated to comply with city code, much of which has to do with fire safety and escape routes.

Day 3: Three empty cook days

 Again, there are thirteen of us. Since we each cook twice per month, this means that some days, there is no one scheduled to cook dinner.

Day 4: Four elemental bathrooms

There are four bathrooms in the house, each one named for an Aristotelian element (there is also a mysterious fifth "Heart Bathroom")

Day 5: Five-week-old seitan

Seitan is a wheat-based meat substitute. It is easiest to make in large batches, when it can then be used for meals. This bulk process means that sometimes the seitan gets real old.

Day 6: Six make-up chores

When a co-op member doesn't get their chore done on time, they have to do a make-up chore in addition to the chore that they neglected. No one ever racks up six at once, as far as I know.

Day 7: Seven awkward silences

With so many people around the dinner table, conversations inevitably split apart and recombine in interesting patterns, sometimes resulting in everyone in silence at the same time.

Day 8: Eight alarms alarming

With the renovations, a state-of-the-art fire alarm system was installed. What that means is that, if one alarm is triggered, the whole floor, then the whole building is triggered with blaring alarms. Sometimes, even when the situation is under control, the system continues to sound. Eight is not a stretch.

Day 9: Nine bakers baking

Lots of people in the house like to bake. All stereotypes of co-ops to the contrary, "bake" is not a euphemism for marijuana use in this lyric. It actually refers to cookies, cakes, etc.

Day 10: Ten kinds of beans

Pinto, Garbanzo, Black, Red, White, Green, Kidney, Navy, Coffee, and the dog named Bean who used to live here. Beans are important when you aren't eating meat.

Day 11: Eleven socialists protesting

We live in a house named for one of the most famous workers'-rights happenings in U.S. history. And one of our housemates is a community organizer.

Day 12: Twelves rooms named for spices

Each bedroom is, in fact, named for a different cooking spice. Heather and I live in Crushed Red Pepper.